26 Jun

More Gospel According to St. Clive
by Paul Waite
26 Jun 2005

And lo! The Lord said unto St. Clive, “I told ye so”.

But St. Clive said “Lord, my plan was sound even as my team selection. But we had a spot of bother with the lineouts and that cost us dear, even unto losing the test and the weather was a bastard too”.

And the Lord replied “Did I not say to thee that thy selections would be shown up as bloody daft ones, and that the mighty All Blacks would smite thy ill-chosen warriors, even as Samson did smite his foes with the jawbone of an ass? Go, and loose the sackcloth from off thy loins, bare thy soul and thy small parts to yon cohorts and humbly beg their forgiveness lest ye never again command them with righteousness”.

And St. Clive gave back no answer but went from the Lord’s sight, and admitted he not to his sins of biassed test team selection, nor of his gameplan which was verily as empty as a gourd which has stood for a day in the desert sun.

But St. Clive instead chose to go down into the very bowels of Lions HQ and there did connive and formulate a great multitude of press releases with the aid of Ali Stare the Head Rabbi of Spindom. And these messages were of a single tone in telling of how St. Clive had been right all along but had only been undone by miraculous bad fortune.

But St. Clive was again caught in the act of praying by our Lord on the night after the first test (it seems St. Clive still hadn’t realised that the praying lines are all tapped by God), and the conversation was once again, by incredible fluke, recorded by PDA duck-taped to the underside of St. Clive’s lav seat by an Irish player who knew he always sits down to pee, and the gist of it went thus:

St. Clive: “Please Lord may I have a victory over these heathen kiwis in the second test and please grant me a 2-1 series win.”

The Lord: “And what hast thee learned from the dog’s breakfast that was the first test?”

St. Clive: “Umm… that I should have brought more venerable English players with me, including Big Marto?”

The Lord: “NO thou dolt! Spank me randy, and call me Dandy! Now listen closely, I’ll say this only once – and before you open your mouth, any ‘Allo ‘Allo jokes will make me press the SMITE button on the Holy Multimedia Keyboard.”.

St. Clive: “Yes Lord.”

The Lord: “Here’s your next test team.” (stone tablet materialises in thin air and drops to the carpet with dull thud).

St. Clive: “Hmm… Jenkins, Thompson…. (reads more) … Peele, Jones, Henson… (finishes reading team)”

The Lord: “Well? Is it good or is it good?”.

St. Clive (pauses): “Er.. there are an awful lot of foreigners in it, aren’t there?”

The Lord: “Verily. All with the hearts of Lions, and picked on form.”

St. Clive: “What about the gameplan Lord? Unfortunately I only have three-score and one support staff and advisors with me including The Larder, Rabbi of Defence, and somehow I neglected to bring a Rabbi of Attack along.”

The Lord: “Practice makes perfect – now get to it.”

St. Clive: (panicky) “But Lord, I’ve only got SIX DAYS!”

The Lord: “Just get stuck in you bloody namby-pamby pom and stop whinging! I know ALL about doing stuff in six days so trust Me that’s more than enough time to create a mere winning test team. You can rest on the seventh, like I did.”

St. Clive: (opening his door and yelling): “Phil! Get me my Attacking Rugby For Dummies – you’ll find it in its original shrink-wrap in the suitcase labelled ‘Tropical Clothes’”.

Paul Waite

Paul Waite

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