by Andrew Morrison

A is for Athey, Boycottish Bill,
who came down from Yorkshire and gave us a thrill
by playing for England, which hadn't befallen
one Gloucestershire player since who? - David Allen.

B is for Barnett, the Ciren fishmonger:
old Charlie could batter like Jessop the Younger,
give a flying fish start to the top of the order.
And B's for an Australian colt called A. Border.

C is for Curran, who hails from Rusape,
Rhodesia (Zimbabwe): he never was happy,
so he took his white shirts, white socks and white pants
and wears them instead for old Lamb's Northants.

D is for Dennett, who bowled slow left arm
and did those Northanters some serious harm.
Their shame (out for 12) is undying, as big as
the fame of old Dennett for his fancy figures.

E is for Emmett. The first class careers
of Emmett and Barnett, though they missed the war years,
spanned 25 years, 25,000 runs,
and between them they added some 85 tons.

F is for foreigners: quite a tradition
from Midwinter down to this summer's edition:
Walshy and Procter, Sadiq and Zed,
Alderman, Srinath and Dacre (who's dead).

G is for Graces and Graveneys galore -
two families who each contributed more
to the Glory of Gloucester than any before
or certainly since: their names we adore!

H is for Hammond. I remember my Dad man-
y years ago called him our answer to Bradman.
Not quite the Don, but I'll grant this to Dad:
he may be the best batsman England has had!

I is for India, home of the Brave,
of Javagal Srinath and Sikhs who don't shave.
The scene of some pics by a keeper from Stroud
and the only 5 Tests David Smith was allowed.

J is for Jessop, the ultimate hitter.
Though batsmen today may be bigger or fitter,
not one scores as fast as the Croucher would do.
Oh that ton off the Aussies in 1902!

K is for Knight, for Roger whose roster
was Cambridge and Surrey and Sussex (and Gloucester).
Today he is still at the centre, the hub,
as the secretary of that old Marylebone club.

L is for Lawrence. Our Sid was the pride
and the passion and heart of a good Gloucester side,
till he shattered his knee on a New Zealand tour
and shattered the hearts of a million more.

M is for Milton, Arthur, all-rounder,
close catcher and batter. The Artful Nudger
played football and cricket for England, and he'd
even open the bowling if there was a need.

N is for Nicholls, the elegant Ron.
It's hard to believe he's actually gone!
He toiled with Arthur and Young for years
and they drove Oxford back to their books in tears.

O is for Off spin. What pair of off-spinners
tops Allen and Mortimore, wonderful winners?
Well, I believe that not even God'd
be able to beat Anyone (me?) plus Tom Goddard.

P is for Procter. O Great Proctershire!
We won two one-dayers lit by Procter's fire.
The finest all-rounder in history was he,
except in the county of WG.

Q is for Quickies. Not really a strength.
Our seamers were swingers or just line and length
until Procter became our most famous import: he,
Courtney and Sid made fasties our forte.

R is for Russell, a bat hard to budge, a
batsman you might call the Artier Nudger.
A student of courage and painting, our Jack
is a Keeper, the man when your under attack.

S is for Slow left arm, a spin style
which from Grace and Dennett to Graveney and Childs
we've excelled in. Tetbury's Cook was delicious,
but old Charlie Parker was utterly vicious.

T is for Townsend - like P is for Patricks!
We're supposed to believe in the weirdest of hat-tricks:
three stumpings by Brain in three balls? Well, I never!
A brain's good for something besides being clever!

U is for Umpires. You can't play without them
and mustn't play with them and can't ever doubt them.
The best by a mile, or at least by a step
and a hop, is that rotund Devonian Shep.

V is for Vaughan. Unlucky for Glos,
New Zealand's gain was Gloucester's loss.
An all-rounder of promise, a promising doctor,
though not quite a Grace, or even a Procter.

W-G, W-G,
two letters for ever connected for me.
It also suggests a Walsh or a Wright,
a Wilson, a Windows or two and a White.

X ain't an opener: it's a middle order letter.
If X was an opener, this verse would be better.
But it ain't, as I said. What? You don't like ain't?
A poet's a know-all but seldom a saint.

Y is for Young. Now HE was an opener.
He opened with Nicholls and Milton. I hope no
scholar from Oxford cries foul or a lie, since
the tears (under N) are just poetic license.

Z is for Zed - that's Zaheer Abbas
for people whose news source is Pravda or Tass.
Two tons in a match was a niche very nifty,
plus a hundred hundreds and an average of fifty.

From Jessop to Symmonds, from Grace to St. Jack,
our cricket is glorious. Ah, but we lack
a championship, fellers. It's been quite a while.
Let's send the century off in style!

P.S.

These are not all the stars in our heaven.
Jocular Jack was a star out of Devon.
There's a whole constellation named after Dipper,
and if I tried denyin' the role of the skipper,
you know I'd be Lyon. You need more than Brains
to succeed in this game. Just dross Romaines?
That's Crapp. To suggest it is surely a sin -
field a team without Reg? Or David? They're Green
up in Lancs at our snaring that positive player,
a real crowd-Pullar. Now Barrie, he Meyer
may not be a star in the ordinary way,
but he came out and kept for us day after day.
I Neale before all of them, Eager to applaud
them for staying and playing, not going a-Broad.

All is forgiven - we're not even cross.
For all that they've given, we're glad to be Glos!