It looked extremely rocky for the Burnside four that day,
The score stood seventeen to fourteen with but one end to play.
The Burnside rink had faltered and dropped the last two ends
So pallor wreathed the features of skipper Casey's friends.

A straggling few got up to go and headed for the bar
While others cursed the greens and how stupid players are.
Then hope arose and hinted that their mood might switch,
The Oak Bay lead was heavy, his bowl was in the ditch.

Then Flynn, their lead, bowled backhand, right next to the jack.
And cheers arose and laughter, as joy came flooding back
Until the next bowl, forehand, moved the jack it brushed
And gloom again descended, all expectations crushed.

Excited by the tension, bettors began to play.
Although this was illegal, the Umpire turned away.
If he had tried to stop it, he knew he'd come to harm.
An Oak Bay bet his pension, a Burnside lost his farm.

Burnside's third was heavy, his bowls were in the back
Then Oak Bay's bowls were useless, wing bowls beside the jack.
And now a fresh excitement swept through Burnside's stands;
With hearts again a-pounding; beer cans crushed in their hands.

For as a driver Casey was a skip of great renown,
The thunders of his runners cracked all the glass in town.
With bowls behind and second shot, a clear run run before
Would let him run the shot bowl and give him a winning four.

Oak Bay's skip then played a guard, which almost did the trick,
But the excitement did him in, his grassline was too thick.
And now the Burnside punters gave vent to pent up glee.
They knew the coming screamer, the winning bowl would be.

He took his place upon the mat, but what the others saw
Was not his blazing runner, for Casey tried to draw!
He'd show these yokels how to bowl, and roll up to the jack.
The yokels saw instead a miss that settled in the back!

Oak Bay tried another guard, but now was just too thin.
As it rolled slowly to a stop, Casey began to grin.
The other skip stood helpless as his last hope rolled aside.
He took one look at Casey's face, and crept away to hide.

Casey eyed the trembling jack and drew a careful bead,
His arm swung back and then came down with truly slashing speed.
The air was simply shattered with the force of Casey's throw.
The watchers stared in silence as they saw the spheroid go.

Somewhere the sun is shining; somewhere hearts are gay.
Somewhere bowls are rolling; somewhere others play.
Somewhere dogs are barking; somewhere children shout.
But there ain't no joy in Burnside; Casey's LITTLE disc was OUT.

Bob Akins
akins@islandnet.com
Oak Bay LBC, Victoria B.C.

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