An Ode to Ashes Humiliation

They came down under
with confidence brimming;
But on our home ground we felt
their egos we'd soon be trimming.

The start went well
in old Brisbane town;
except Mitch's bowling
caused more than one frown.

Then all turned bad
thanks to eye makeup man;
we had to settle for evens
and Mitchy got the can.

The city of churches
was ours for the taking;
but their batsmen again
left us in our boots quaking.

We forgot to use the bat
we forgot how to bowl;
We laid ourselves right down
so that over us they could roll.

Then to Sid's home town
and the turf of Mr Cricket;
and finally the local Aussies felt
they hadn't wasted their cash on a ticket.

Mitchy returned with a mighty bang
and the Muss was truly a king;
every other batter was pretty damn poor
but this was now a regular thing.

If boxing day test history
was any way to tell;
We should easily take the fourth test
and send the poms back to hell.

But relying on history
is not always the best thing;
occasionally we also need to play
if we want to pull a win.

Sadly, it was not to be,
for my christ but did we fall apart;
twas truly a sorry, sorry sight
and broke many an Aussie fan's heart.

Ponting took a break
after briefly viewing the little urn;
he pretended his finger was sore
so that on Pup the media could turn.

A win at Sydney might just help,
it would even things up at least;
but we batted as bad as usual
and only Mitch was a bowling beast.

And so it was over,
the humiliating defeat was done;
and Strauss joined the few captains
who came to Oz and left with the Ashes won.

So now what do we do?
We've surely hit rock bottom;
If only we could lose old Hilditch,
but those plagues of denial - he's got 'em.

My days go on in this,
the land of little urn theft;
and when it comes to writing
I feel, of inspiration, quite bereft.

So bear with me, people
as I prepare for the shorter over game;
for good god I truly hope
that our batting won't stay the same.

And please, please bring back My Lord.