REFORM OF FOOTBALL
This 'ere cuttin' down the exes is a swindle, don't yon know.
To give us 'arf a quid a week's a playin' it too low.
Why ! The cigarettes and long 'uns comes to that near ev'ry day;
To say nothink of yer donah, when you to take her to the play !
If they hadn't got the boodle, there might be some excuse;
But we know there's plenty in the game for everybody's use.
There's others had their cut, you know, just like the players did,
And that's why we don't cotton to acceptin' arf a quid.
When fifteen hundred pound or more comes rollin' in each year,
D'yer think the players, cop the lot--no jolly, bloomin' fear!
Them balance sheets shows lemons, togs, and eucalyptus, too,
But I never see no "palm oil" in the items there do you?
Bear in mind, I ain't complainin', but I think it's pretty, strong,
That us blokes as takes the stouchin'--and have done so all along--
Have got to go and look for work--it makes a chap feel small--
And knowin,' too, this 'ere "reform" ain't nuthink but a "stall."
Wot about them toffy cricketers yer see upon the Block !
Gets "twenty-five" and exes ev'ry time they "have "a knock"
In a test game, which is child's play to a football match, and yet
A paltry 'arf a quid is all they say we are to get.
That billiard marker's yarn that Billy Elder gives each year,
At smoke nights, seems to put the case jist sensible an' clear--
"All faith in human nature and religion it destroys,
When the swells 'ave got the meanness to come robbin' of the boys !"
Notes
From the Melbourne Newspaper The Leader 28 Jan 1911 p. 16.
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