THEY were three deep on the railway bank in the summer of '54,

old one's eyes peering across the ground trying to see the score,

Sion against the NICC in the Northern Union Cup,

The crowd was large and rather rude, but how they lapped it up.

Loudspeakers that were hired for the day,

were belting out the latest Johnny Ray,

Slim Whitman and Rose Marie and Don't Sit Under The Apple Tree.

Few in the crowd anticipated a loss,

Even though Sion had lost the toss,

With Paddy Duddy from the recreation end
and Joe McCrea from the other,

The optimists in the crowd all said it's Sion with no bother.

But the batsmen had other ideas and smiles changed to a frown,

As the bowlers were hit all around the ground.

Worse was to follow as with a loud groan,

a no ball was hit into the River Mourne.

That was the story of the day,

Batsmen scoring freely before falling away,

But at long last to a cry of glee,

The last man was run out just in time for tea.

While some to wet their whistle ran up the brae,

Others to the canteen for their tay.

The ladies there said in fun, it's fish paste sandwiches and a Paris bun.

But they served things up in a friendly manner,

For the princely sum of just one and a tanner.

Back we went to the fray but it wasn't to be Sion's day,

And though they put up a fight,

There would be no celebration on that Saturday night.

But the score I've long forgotten from that long day of yore,

It's the people and the characters that are with me for evermore,

Yes the people and the characters from the summer of '54.

Michael Timoney

Rose Cottage