The Gopher -is this your partner?
THE GOPHER
The menagerie of Mollo is an act that’s hard to follow,
Unique and irreplaceable, his crew –
There’s the Hog and there’s the Rabbit, who’s a very useful habit
Of finding coups unknown to me and you.
Yet my own private hunch is this anthropomorphic bunch is
Incomplete, and lacking, so to speak;
There’s an unknown Griffin creature, one who really ought to feature:
I know it’s true: I play with him each week.
As defender or declarer you’ll find no-one who is squarer –
His card play never gives one cause for blame.
But bidding! Optimistic? Well, he’s far from realistic:
With twenty points he’ll always Gopher game.
His crazy calling antics would disgrace the Late Romantics –
He doesn’t know what moderation means.
As I sit, just quietly ‘damning', he is up there, blithely slamming
On hands that just ain’t worth a hill o’ beans.
As my poor brow is furrowing, the Gopher goes on burrowing:
"I thought I ought to Gopher it," he’ll smile.
"But for three unlucky guesses and those four offside finesses,
It would have been a top by half a mile!"
His charm is quite disarming, but our bridge results? Alarming!
I’ll never make Club Master (once my goal);
As sadly I unravel a most disappointing traveller
I know I’m with the Gopher, in a hole.
The menagerie of Mollo is an act that’s hard to follow,
Unique and irreplaceable, his crew –
There’s the Hog and there’s the Rabbit, who’s a very useful habit
Of finding coups unknown to me and you.
Yet my own private hunch is this anthropomorphic bunch is
Incomplete, and lacking, so to speak;
There’s an unknown Griffin creature, one who really ought to feature:
I know it’s true: I play with him each week.
As defender or declarer you’ll find no-one who is squarer –
His card play never gives one cause for blame.
But bidding! Optimistic? Well, he’s far from realistic:
With twenty points he’ll always Gopher game.
His crazy calling antics would disgrace the Late Romantics –
He doesn’t know what moderation means.
As I sit, just quietly ‘damning', he is up there, blithely slamming
On hands that just ain’t worth a hill o’ beans.
As my poor brow is furrowing, the Gopher goes on burrowing:
"I thought I ought to Gopher it," he’ll smile.
"But for three unlucky guesses and those four offside finesses,
It would have been a top by half a mile!"
His charm is quite disarming, but our bridge results? Alarming!
I’ll never make Club Master (once my goal);
As sadly I unravel a most disappointing traveller
I know I’m with the Gopher, in a hole.
By our resident poet: Peter Rowlett
posted by Joe Ridyard at 2:34 am
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