(Mods, please move this thread to the most appropriate place)
After watching the capitulation against PA on the weekend, I am at the end of my rope, and tired of the emotional strain of supporting the Blues these 20 years past. I got to thinking about Henry Lawsons poem about the desolation of a poor bushwomans life 120+ years ago. For those interested, here is a link to the original. https://allpoetry.com/Past-Carin'
So with reference to, thanks, honour and apologies to Henry -
The Past Carin' Blues
There’s no burial yet on Royal Parade,
But the reapers grim are gatherin’
And in the Rooms of Board I know,
Some forked tongues are a’blatherin’
The Troops have lost all Heart and Soul
Their lack of effort glarin’
But I have seen this all before
And I have gone past carin’
Past worrying or carin’
Past feeling aught or carin’
Cause the blood of my heart all my life beat Blue
But right now, I’m past carin’.
Through triumph and trouble, came and went.
Through elation and desolation
Through trading busts and champions sent,
And coves of different nations.
I have seen it all in days of yore;
The silverware won with darin’.
I’ve stuck fat over wooden years,
But I have gone past carin’
I’ve got to be past carin’
Past botherin’ or carin’
The Team I’ve followed all my life
Don’t play for me; past carin’.
They will look for some Messiah coach
‘Nother Barassi, Walls or Parkin,
But till the winnin’ culture comes,
‘tis all hot air they’re barkin’.
Will Clarko do? Maybe Lyon too?
With assistants of high bearin’.
But till the cattle buy fully in,
They’ve got ‘Buckley’s’ and I’m past carin’.
No game plan wins if the players sin,
Without effort required.
If they give up, then I give up.
I’m over it, I’m tired.
When marketing outranks game plan.
When tail is wagging dog.
When sale of white ‘300’ shirts is first
‘pon meeting’s log,
Prior to player development
Or ‘tegrity of team selection.
Then I must say, the only way
Is open, free, election.
No Gambling king, No cardboard Queen
Ne’er in the outer with the masses
If the Coach must go, then the Board must go.
Out on their rich old arses.
I just want MY old Carlton back.
When effort, esprit de corps,
And to look out for your team-mates
Was drilled into the core.
When it meant all in the wide world
to pull on the Navy Blue
Before the farce of M&M,
Or the white, or the wolf grey hue.
When our Navy clash with none
Why have a strip to wear ‘away’?
To sell one’s soul for the profit basket
means dignity gone. I’m past it.
I’m distressed for younger folk than me,
Who missed the years of plunder.
I want them to have experience
Of glory days and wonder.
When premierships were ‘de rigeur.’
When winnin’ was a habit.
But winnin’ ways take much rigor,
and I don’ think we have it.
I’m over 6 goals in a row,
or even worse 19.
Our much beloved, Bi-polar Blues
Done Carin’. I have had it.
When home-town umps give me the bumps;
When cheating is the norm.
I observe the League and am intrigued
by their optimising form.
GWS and Gold Coast, Sydney town
and other confected teams,
Have coat tail rides but none resides
For the Navy Blues, it seems.
The corruption of the betting Corp’s
has pervaded through and through.
For near 60 years a football fan,
but I’m done with it, ‘tis true.
I mourn for Blue boys glory days
Before the odds were given.
But now the ‘in game multi’
Seems for the game, the reason.
I may as well watch Rugby League,
Or Union, or Association.
Our home-grown game has gone awry,
I’m over it, Past Carin’
Lop sided draws, past carin’
Interpretive laws, past carin’
The grand old Blues have done their dash
And I’m feelin sad. Past carin’.
After watching the capitulation against PA on the weekend, I am at the end of my rope, and tired of the emotional strain of supporting the Blues these 20 years past. I got to thinking about Henry Lawsons poem about the desolation of a poor bushwomans life 120+ years ago. For those interested, here is a link to the original. https://allpoetry.com/Past-Carin'
So with reference to, thanks, honour and apologies to Henry -
The Past Carin' Blues
There’s no burial yet on Royal Parade,
But the reapers grim are gatherin’
And in the Rooms of Board I know,
Some forked tongues are a’blatherin’
The Troops have lost all Heart and Soul
Their lack of effort glarin’
But I have seen this all before
And I have gone past carin’
Past worrying or carin’
Past feeling aught or carin’
Cause the blood of my heart all my life beat Blue
But right now, I’m past carin’.
Through triumph and trouble, came and went.
Through elation and desolation
Through trading busts and champions sent,
And coves of different nations.
I have seen it all in days of yore;
The silverware won with darin’.
I’ve stuck fat over wooden years,
But I have gone past carin’
I’ve got to be past carin’
Past botherin’ or carin’
The Team I’ve followed all my life
Don’t play for me; past carin’.
They will look for some Messiah coach
‘Nother Barassi, Walls or Parkin,
But till the winnin’ culture comes,
‘tis all hot air they’re barkin’.
Will Clarko do? Maybe Lyon too?
With assistants of high bearin’.
But till the cattle buy fully in,
They’ve got ‘Buckley’s’ and I’m past carin’.
No game plan wins if the players sin,
Without effort required.
If they give up, then I give up.
I’m over it, I’m tired.
When marketing outranks game plan.
When tail is wagging dog.
When sale of white ‘300’ shirts is first
‘pon meeting’s log,
Prior to player development
Or ‘tegrity of team selection.
Then I must say, the only way
Is open, free, election.
No Gambling king, No cardboard Queen
Ne’er in the outer with the masses
If the Coach must go, then the Board must go.
Out on their rich old arses.
I just want MY old Carlton back.
When effort, esprit de corps,
And to look out for your team-mates
Was drilled into the core.
When it meant all in the wide world
to pull on the Navy Blue
Before the farce of M&M,
Or the white, or the wolf grey hue.
When our Navy clash with none
Why have a strip to wear ‘away’?
To sell one’s soul for the profit basket
means dignity gone. I’m past it.
I’m distressed for younger folk than me,
Who missed the years of plunder.
I want them to have experience
Of glory days and wonder.
When premierships were ‘de rigeur.’
When winnin’ was a habit.
But winnin’ ways take much rigor,
and I don’ think we have it.
I’m over 6 goals in a row,
or even worse 19.
Our much beloved, Bi-polar Blues
Done Carin’. I have had it.
When home-town umps give me the bumps;
When cheating is the norm.
I observe the League and am intrigued
by their optimising form.
GWS and Gold Coast, Sydney town
and other confected teams,
Have coat tail rides but none resides
For the Navy Blues, it seems.
The corruption of the betting Corp’s
has pervaded through and through.
For near 60 years a football fan,
but I’m done with it, ‘tis true.
I mourn for Blue boys glory days
Before the odds were given.
But now the ‘in game multi’
Seems for the game, the reason.
I may as well watch Rugby League,
Or Union, or Association.
Our home-grown game has gone awry,
I’m over it, Past Carin’
Lop sided draws, past carin’
Interpretive laws, past carin’
The grand old Blues have done their dash
And I’m feelin sad. Past carin’.
