World Cup 2010 - Day 1

South Africa 1 Mexico 1 (Group A)

The fans were blowing hard on odd-shaped cornets
As the competition started without hitch.
It sounded like a swarm of angry hornets
Was buzzing round the Soccer City pitch.

Like wasps descending on a picnic table,
The Mexicans were out to spoil the show,
Tormenting the Bafana, though unable
To land upon the hosts a fatal blow.

But in the second half, Soweto local
Tschabalala crashed one o’er the line.
He sounded like a Chiffons’ backing vocal
And everyone agreed he was so fine.

But then, in front of Pontius Pilate Blatter,
They went a little bit too far as hosts.
They served a goal up on a silver platter,
Bidding Marquez shoot between the posts.

The World Cup’s start, as usual, impresses,
Kicking off with quite a tasty trailer,
Though I’m unsure, as the tournament progresses,
How long I’m going to stick that vuvuzela.
Uruguay 0 Those Who Can’t Be Named 0 (Group A)

We had a plan in work to watch the football,
A fairly foolproof notion, it was claimed.
We would apply the science
To watch the Uruguyans
Playing versus Those Who Can’t Be Named.

We couldn’t get the match to play online, though,
And no-one knew too much about IT.
There was jeering, there was hooting
As we roundly cursed computing,
But not a shot in anger did we see.

Of course, as I was nominally most senior,
I was their prime target to be blamed.
Yes they threw me to the lions
When the unseen Uruguyans
Played the formless Those Who Can’t Be Named.

There’s only one thing saved me from a lynching
When gremlins in my pc came a-calling –
Though the fates were squarely stacked
I was rescued by the fact
That the match, it seems, was utterly appalling.