( If Rudyard Kipling's son had been a rugby referee... ) by Max Boyce If you can keep your head when all about you Are losing theirs and blaming it on you If you can trust yourself when all the crowd doubt you And wonder why you blew. If you can wait and not be tired Of waiting for tempers to subside Or being hated - don't give way to hating or favour either side. If you, can play advantage And bear the crowds derision And the offer of new glasses as they question each decision. If you can make one heap of all your expenses And risk it on the bandit And lose by holdinq 'cherries' and Admit you didn't understand it. If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew To serve your turn when you know your legs have gone And keep up with play and hope and pray Some second row will knock on. If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue Or walk with our committee and not lose the common touch Neither foes or toilet rolls can hurt you All our boys are with you - but none too much. If you can control that unforgiving minute with tempers running high, With a calmness born of knowing why you disallowed that try. If you can watch the moment all again; When they show the game that night And watch the replay all slowed down And admit the crowd were right. THEN... if you 'Ref' that side again And you're remembered as 'the one' I'd get escorted from the ground If I were you - my son.
The end