Christmas Eve at a Welsh Rugby Football Clubhouse

‘Twas the night before Christmas and all through the Club
The boys were all saying – “Let’s go to the pub”.
And I as the ‘Club Sec’ said “Wait up; hold on there!

What’s wrong with our own bar? Let’s not leave it bare”

So I battened the doors to keep them all in
And bribed the outside halves with whisky and gin.
Then from the back room came a piercing scream
As in through its window crashed a neighboring team.

“Right now,” said their captain, “let’s ‘ave a scrum”

 As he slipped on spilled beer and went down on his bum.

Our hooker lunged forward, ready to grapple
But stopped short as their flanker threw at him – an Apple.

It spiraled seven yards - like an overlap pass

Missing out Dai as he fell on his ar$e

But ‘twas not from the fruit bowl that the thrown object came

I yelled, “No! That’s my laptop!” – whilst admiring his aim!

“Let’s see who is the better” screamed their big burly right flanker -

On the pitch, a tough bugger; but off, Dai says he’s a ‘wanker’! 

“Dammo, mun” said my fly-half - as he leapt onto the table
“I’ve only ‘ad 5 pints, but by God I am able”. 

The challenge was tossed; the match on – though no ball

On we hacked (as in a ruck) then bound tight for a maul.

We wheeled round the room turning tables into fractions,

With n’ere ref nor touch judges to penalize our actions.

And so it went on, hammering this way and that

Until out of the closet came a man in a hat

‘Twas Rupert (of Newport), though some call him ‘Santa’

Saying “Chwarae teg; have a beer and end all this banter!”

I surveyed the hall, which with holly was once decked;
And saw our RFC clubhouse was near totally wrecked.
“Next year, at our club”, said their skipper with a grunt,
As they boarded their bus - with its red light in front.

And I heard them cry out, as I peered out the door,

“MERRY CHRISTMAS to all; oh, just what WAS the score?”