(The continuing adventures of Albert as an old man) by Andrew Vasey They'd got t'Olympic Games, you know, And t'Paralympics, too, And that's not all that there was planned For two thousand and one-two. They decided that the time was ripe To give old folks centre stage, And so it was arranged to have The Olympics of t'Third Age. Albert Ramsbottom was there, No, don't say it's a farce; He'd entered for the pole vault In the over eighties class. He stood there waiting for his turn, Quite nervous, poor old soul, The track official said to him, 'What's that on your pole?' 'My lucky mascot,' Albert quoth, 'Shaped like an 'orse's 'ead.' 'That's not allowed,' the chap replied, 'Use a normal pole instead.' Now Albert had been practising For weeks in his back yard; To try to use a diff'rent pole Would really be too hard. Just picture it - the poor old man, With pole not used before, When suddenly behind him He heard a mighty roar. 'Wallace!' shouted Albert, And set off at a rate; He reached the bar and cleared it At the height of two foot eight. 'I thought you'd like that, Grandad,' Said Albert's grandson, Joe, 'I played that there recording To psyche you up, you know.' 'Psyche me up!' said Albert, 'Eh, lad, you 'ave some thoughts - It nearly meant I had to go And 'ave a change of shorts!' None of the other athletes Could manage two foot eight, So Albert found he'd won the gold - For now, at any rate. The team's physician called him in, He said, 'It isn't good, It seems you've tested positive With Viagra in your blood.' Albert stood up for himself: 'There's something that you've missed - When talking of banned substances, Viagra isn't on the list.' The doctor sadly shook his head And said, 'Upon my soul - But in small print it says, Except For vaulting with a pole.' Albert thought it over: When all is said and done, I must confess two poles must be Better than just one. 'Ah, well', he said, 'the lesson's learned, And, though it's one that galls, Man can strive for glory, But, with Viagra, falls.'
The end