Saturday Mornings

There was no school at weekends, but quite often round the farm
A bit of extra needed work would do us boys no harm;
Like vaccinating chooks or pushing capsules down their throats,
Or even help the bloke nearby to round up wayward goats.

But if there weren't those special jobs that now and then were done
We'd organise diversions with a bit of home made fun.
Sometimes go out on horses; or on bikes ride miles away.
And sometimes, with the local lads, was cricket for the day.

With Neil and Norm, and Max and Mick, the Peachey brothers too,
Then "Pig" and "Rat", the Condon boys, all helped make up the crew
And with young Bobby Griffiths, we had got ourselves a team.
To challenge Kenny Piker's mob, and beat them was our dream.

Now Kenny's mob lived down the hill, about a mile away,
Near Pascoe Vale station where they often used to play.
His father owned the milk bar there, we all thought they were rich;
'Cos Kenny had three proper stumps; looked good on any pitch.

We used a vacant paddock, which is now no longer there
Our pitch was on a walking track; where it was hard and bare.
And Kenny brought his proper stumps, all standing straight and thin,
But at the bowler's end we had an old four gallon tin.

But when we played at Kenny's ground, down on the station flats,
With his good proper set of stumps, and our old motley bats,
Well, all of us were hanging out for after close of play:
Refreshments at the milk bar was the order of the day.

And Kenny often served behind the counter in the shop;
So we would get our milkshakes overflowing at the top,
With double flavour, double malt, all at no extra cost,
It didn't matter on those days if we had won or lost.

© Tom Chapman 2007