To a Mouse

Scottish cricketers wha hae.  There's the chieftain o' the puddin race - haggis - on the tea table the nicht.

Robert Burns would have been 263 years old today, had he not died at the artistically fashionable age of 37.  As Fantasy Bob has reported previously, the cricketer has to search carefully in the Kilmarnock edition for works that relate to cricket.  Many authoritative scholars have concluded that there are none.  However FB is made of sterner stuff, and in the National Library he recently discovered a crumpled, claret-stained manuscript that has been authenticated as in the hand of the Bard.  In these never-seen-before verses, Burns seems strangely prescient for the fate of the Engish team locked in a tense Test struggle with Pakistan.  Here is this newly discovered masterpiece which shows his deep concern about what might happen in the next few days in Abu Dhabi.  Poets will hope his pessimism is unfounded.

To A Strauss

Wee, sleekit, cow'rin, tim'rous beastie,

Oh, whit a panic's in thy breastie!

The test at Dubai ends o’er hastie

Thou'rt in a sochter

Noo Abu Dhabi won’t be tasty

      It could be slaughter                                                     

For whiles thy bowlers a’ got passes

Thy fancy batters played like arses          

When one is oot, the rest collapses

They lookit wabbit

KP played like he had paral’sis

An' Bell’s a rabbit

We micht hae looked for some resilience

Frae those wha tak IPL’s millions

But what we got wis far frae brilliance

Exceptin' Prior

Micht Panesar mak unco diff’rence

To fecht fire wi' fire?

Thon Ajmal won’t be ony easier

Bowlin' his new fangled teesra

Bell could hae an unco seizure

Hoo can he pick it?

Watchin’ sic torture brings nae pleasure

Leg afore wicket

Ah Straussie thou art insecure

Ye’re staunin' deep in thick manure

The best laid schemes o’ Andy  Floo'er

Gang aft agley

When spinners bowl into the stoor
Ye’ve feet o' clay 

For those who canna read Scots:


sleekit - shiny, smooth
sochter - mess, confusion
wabbit - tired
thon - that
staunin - standing
agley - wrong, askew
stoor - dust