"SHORTY THE PRO"

Gun Flash, Issue XXIII, 5 June 1943, Page 2

"SHORTY THE PRO"

The whistle blows, the centre kicks, And down the field they stream, Weaving, passing, heading, The English Navy team.

Until half time the navy team, Cut our team to shreds, With weaving spoils and nimble feet, Those chequered white and reds.

A change took place the second half, A bright new star began to soar, A runty little wing arose, And he hailed from 204.

His brawny big opponent, Was a six foot two Jack Tar, But Shorty ran between his legs, As if he was not thar.

The Navy team were off again, And they flicked this back a pass, But ho did not see our Shorty there, Hid neath a blade of grass.

The ball came flying T’ wards him, The cry was "use your head”, But as his legs wore just as high He used his boot instead.

He hoofed it at the goal mouth, The goalie, fumbling, fell,. And Short’-, quick to follow up, Had a shot that rang the bell.

Then 204 streamed o’er the field, And shouldered their hero high, And all the assembled multitude, Paid homage with their cry.

And again a' chance he had, To Shorty yelled the host, And shorty’s perfect play, Placed it clean between- the posts.

And when the game was over, i /praise, And our .hero they’d showered with Ho said "We • could 'have licked ’em-, s If the game went on for days.”

Now oft when day is o’er, And evening shadows full, You’ll see. the ghost of Shorty, Rushing downfield with the ball. With sure foot he’ll trap it, As near the line it rolls, And deftly will he toe it, ; While a ghostly crowd roars n Goal! n