The Barracker

Demonstrations by angry crowds against football umpires and individual players were made on three Melbourne grounds on Saturday.

LARGE mouth and little head,
Loud voice and idle brain,
Reason, judgment, caution shed.
“Pull ’im down! Yah! Crook again!”

A crook day Saturdee. Say, was you there?
I never seen a football match so tame.
The bloomin’ umpire acted strictly fair!
Why, strike a light! You don’t call that a game!
’E never done a thing to nark the crowd.
Them spoil-sports ’adn’t ought to be allowed.

’Ow can a decent bloke injoy a match
Unless there’s somethin’ ’e can ’oot about?
A dead crook game. There wasn’t one bright patch
Where we could tell ’im off or count ’im out.
’E done ’is best to please both sides. The coot!
We ’ad no chance of puttin’ in the boot.

One-eyed and partisan,
Folly loose and fairness fled —
A sorry semblance of a man.
“Crack ’im! Yah! Knock off ’is ’ead!”

Gimme the days when umpires makes mistakes —
Somethin’ to put some ginger in the game,
When reason’s chucked aside an’ passion wakes
An’ ’owls run round the benches like a flame,
When blokes gits reel worked up an’ yell fer blood
An’ even ladies takes to chuckin’ mud.

Give me the days with langwidge flowin’ free,
’At-pins an’ pickets an’ a all-in fight
An’ broken fences. That’s the stuff for me.
It’s better than the Stajim of a night.
A bloke’s reel natcher then gits dinkum play.
But ideel umpires? Wot? Aw, fade away!