So why are you, dear reader, treated to
A versified account of twenty two
Brave men in green*, who took the winners’ spot?
The only truthful answer is 'why not?’
[* metaphorically - Irish played in white]

The day was sunny - blisteringly hot.
An unchanged Irish line-up we had brought.
First kick, first catch, first punch, first fight! Hooray!
A dust-up with the team in light green, magenta, chocolate, light blue, black and French grey.

Our full-back kicked the easy penalty,
But from the restart - pure insanity!
A crazy line-out - ball over the top
To Maps, who dropped it - agh! Scrum to the fops.

The play was miles away (it was The Stoop).
Why penalty to Quins? I ain’t a clue.
But anyway, Malone, he stuck the ball
Between the posts - the current score? 3-all.

The same atrocious line-out move AGAIN!
The over-throw, the knock-on, scrum, Quins pen.
A well-worked line, a mazy Strettle run,
Ruck, cross-field kick, and Monye cantered in.

A tricky kick Malone converted well,
The score 10-3, and by now you could tell
The fighting Irish weren’t the players who
Could topple those in light green, magenta, chocolate, French grey, black and light blue.

The score remained the same a while, OK,
Until the Irish failed to roll away.
Malone stepped up and called the kicking tee.
He hit the spot - the score was 13-3.

A pattern was emerging by this time -
The Quins’ defence a tough, unbroken line.
We really struggled, trying to break through
The solid wall of light green, magenta, chocolate, French grey, black and light blue.

The Quins, by contrast, had a lot of ball
Their forwards, fast and strong, stood wide and tall.
The backs inventive, fleet of foot, showed mettle,
You know what’s coming next - of course, it’s Strettle.

And then disaster struck - the coup de grace
(Or so it seemed), a Quins move full of class.
A gap appeared, and Tommy Guest was free
To jog straight through - the score now 20-3.

The Exiles really were in trouble now.
A massive score line, no real sign of how
The fighting Irish hoped to struggle back
Against the men in light blue, magenta, chocolate, French grey, light green and black.

A glimpse of hope appeared, but then was gone.
Some deft offloading, but the move broke down,
When Steffon, on the wing and in the clear
Received a forward pass - oh dear, oh dear.

A terrible drop goal attempt (Malone),
It turns out, would have seen the Quins team home,
But luckily, he missed, and traded kicks
Brought 'Play some rugby!' cries from Quins and Micks.

At last, an Irish try. A normal throw,
Thank goodness. Johnson catch, a ruck and go
To Lossie, Hewat’s fly-hack, DELON’S IN!
We might just match the men in light blue, magenta, chocolate, French grey, black and light green.

The second half began in stronger vein -
Some early pressure brought an Irish pen.
We changed our kicker (Hickey had a go).
Did that go over? Touch judges said 'no’.

We built some phases - this was better stuff,
But why so slow extracting ball from ruck?
This happened last week, too, the self-same scene.
This ain’t the way to beat the men in light blue, magenta, chocolate, French grey, black and light green.

And finally Big Bob ran on again,
And Elvis on for Eoghan (Hewat 10).
So Delon moved to full-back, Elvis centre,
To try to crack the men in light blue, chocolate, French grey, black, light green and magenta.

More airborne ping-pong, then a tricky kick,
But thankfully Malone, he missed the sticks.
The same was true of Hewat - easy one.
But no! He sent it wide! Last week again.

Now Hodgson, Tonga, Danie all come on.
Increased possession - could the game be won?
A penalty! It’s there! We’re nine points down -
There’s just a chance to beat the men in light blue, magenta, French grey, black, light green and chocolate brown.

The Irish really looking stronger now,
But probably too late (just) to allow
The fans to hope they’d witness daylight theft -
Because there’s only twenty minutes left!

But wait! What’s this? A second Irish try!
A cross-field move, and gaps appear out wide.
A Hewat pass to Delon, whereupon
HE SCORES! CONVERTED! YES! THE DREAM IS ON!

We’re two points down with precious little left,
A dodgy touch decision fools the ref.
A Quins throw, just five metres from our line -
We’ve stolen it! Big kick! In touch - that’s fine.

The line-out works again, and Quins attack.
The ball is whipped from back to classy back...
But now the moment no-one could forget -
From out of nowhere, HEWAT INTERCEPTS!

He’s in the clear - he must score! Move it, son!
There’s fifty metres! Forty! SHIFT! COME ON!
The chasing backs are closing, very near,
But he’s made it - plus the two: we’re five points clear!

The clock crawls down - there’s STILL ten minutes left??
An Irish penalty! Ah, bless you, ref!
PH steps up, but hits the post again -
Last week was then, but this is now - it’s in!

An eight-point gap, so all we have to do
Is tackle for six minutes the Quins, who
Are not that keen on losing - had, you see,
Till recently, a seventeen-point lead.

The Quins came back at us in wave on wave.
A scrum and then a Strettle breakthrough gave
A deep attacking platform - penalty.
A tap-and-go, a surge, the ref looks - try.

Two minutes left. Conversion. One-point game.
A messy move, Quins nervous - we’re the same.
The ball’s in touch - there’s no time, surely, now?
The ref says yes - one more move. Please, please, no!

The Quins come at us, ruthless, no mistakes,
The tackles crunch, the Irish line won’t break.
But in the end, their final hope is gone.
The whistle goes - a Harlequins knock-on!

The truth sinks in - we’ve done it! How on earth
Did those exhausted players in the shirt
Of London Irish pull it off? Fifteen
Who beat the men in light blue, magenta, chocolate, French grey, black and light green.