Another Christmas Tale

(to the tune of “Once in royal David’s city)

.

Roy was worshipped down at City,
All the girls would call him “Stud.”
Strong and brave, he showed no pity,
He was really very good.
Saintly in his will to win,
Anger was his only sin.

His manager was tough as leather,
Lee was decades in the game.
Never shy to shout out whether
Certain people were to blame.
Black and white and old and young,
All would fear Lee’s lethal tongue.

After one quite horrid disaster,
Roy came in for some abuse.
Never were words spat out faster,
Lee’s old face became bright puce.
Roy remained serene and calm,
Then drove to his manager’s farm.

He took a tractor from a stable
And drove to a cattle shed.
First the side wall, then the gable,
Tumbled down around his head.
Fearsome bedlam did abound,
As the shed crashed to the ground.

Well, the press were in the clover,
This was really front page news.
Was Roy’s stay at City over?
Journalists all gave their views.
What will all the upshot be?
Can the club placate mad Lee?

Talks began between the parties,
Snow fell down on many lands.
Rumours scattered round like Smarties
Flung from short bad-tempered hands.
City thought The Stud must leave,
His one sin held no reprieve.

Then as Christmas turkeys roasted,
Came a breakthrough at the death.
Notices were quickly posted,
Phone calls made with panting breath.
“Compromise!” shrieked out the news,
Headline writers sought their muse –

“One-sin Roy’ll stay with City –
Stud’ll owe Lee cattle shed.”