Barry Cryer
(with apologies to Marriott Edgar and Stanley Holloway)

There once was a fellow called Albert
A cricketer dashing and bold
Or to be more correct I'll say 'batting and bowled'
For there hangs a tale to be told

Now Albert was courting a lady
A lass by the name Rose Ann Kate
And she never stopped praising her idol
The great B.J.T. Bosanquet.

Yes - him as invented the googly
The off-break that's bowled as leg-break
And Albert got fed up about it
And used to cry: 'For heaven's sake!

'I'll acknowledge the man is a marvel
Some would say he's a right pioneer
But there's bowlers down here in the village
I will claim without favour or fear

'Who can sling 'em down twisting and turning
And spinning and breaking and that'
Said Rose: 'Now then Albert, let's get one thing straight,
When you mention the master, doff hat

'B.J.T. Bosanquet is a wonder
A man who is equalled by none
And if he came down here to the village
Not one of you'd muster a run'

'You're on!' cried our Albert with passion
'Let him bowl at our lads - every one
And when he gives up, we'll all show him
Exactly how it should be done'

'You're a dreamer, our Albert, you're potty!'
The sterling Rose Ann Kate then cried
'You seem to think bowling, like life, lad,
Is nobbut a bit on the side'

So they posted a letter to London
Inviting the great man to tea
Then added: 'PS If you'd like to join in,
We're having a knock - kick-off three'

Well, imagine their trembling excitement
When an envelope dropped on the mat
Inside was a note from the great B. J.T.
Saying: 'Thank you -I'll have some of that'

The great day arrived - it were sunny
And the lads of the village stood round
And somewhere a curlew were singing
And the landlord's dog peed on the ground

Then up drove a car - it were splendid
And the lads all craned forward to see
'By gum!' cried the vicar, 'Have you seen t'licence plate?'
And there was inscribed 'B. J.T.'

The king of the seam then dismounted
To a spirited round of applause
And Rose cried: 'You're welcome sir- teach 'em to win!
They'll tell you that I can't stand draws!'

So the stumps were set up in the sunlight
And then the great contest began
B.J.T. from both ends - every over
And the village turned out to a man

It took him ten minutes to do it
On the Scoreboard it said: 'All out- Nowt'
And they carried him shoulder high after
And he said: 'Come on lads, it's my shout!'

And they laughed and they sang in The Packhorse
And they supped the ale all night in bulk
And only one man were nowhere to be seen
'Cos Albert had gone home to sulk

Now the ending of this stirring saga
Was that B.J.T. drove home to cheers
And the lads to this day talk about it
As they sup their Old English keg beers

'But what of our Albert?' you ask me
'Did he make young Rose Ann Kate his wife?'
No, she married the milkman, so he shot himself
I know it's right sad - but that's life.
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