(My own personal humiliation from schooldays. As it happens, green and gold were our school colours and a try was worth 3 points then.  A re-post with a nod to Pam Ayres)

 

I’d made the team – my dad he was so proud

He didn’t know the rules but cheered out loud

Though I was only 12 years old

I’d made the shirt of green and gold

But then the plan began to fold

84-0.

 

I remember this like it was yesterday

At Grantham Grammar on that fateful day

We were just 15 small boys

We knew what tactics they’d deploy

They looked like lorries in convoy

84-0.

 

We slugged it out with them with nothing in it

Until their opening score in the 3rd minute

And then began the one-way flood

We tried to stem them best we could

I heard my dad shout “Useless pud”

84-0.

 

Their danger man scored when he got the ball

You’d think he’d run right through the Berlin Wall

Holding on were four of us

He rumbled on without a fuss

Like a double decker bus

84-0.

 

We shipped no less than 27 tries

We shipped more tries than what we’d ordered pies

It wasn’t such a fun day

In Assembly on the Monday

When they read the score from Sunday

84-0.

 

The teachers stared distractedly in space

We shuffled with heads bowed in our disgrace

The school reviled us for our slough

The Head would giggle, joke and scoff

“They got some practice kicking off”

84-0.

 

We vowed atonement all the lads and me

Next match when we’d restore our dignity

We broke our duck – it was a sign

We scored 3 points and crossed their line

And let in only 69

69-3.