BILAMBIL WINS THE COMP
When Bilambil won the comp…
Oh the scene was set that Sunday, it was crowded on the hill…you could hear the chant around the field…
…B I L A M B I L…
The sun was beamin’ on down, as the players ran onto the field, this was the final, the one to win and take the group 18 shield…
It was Old boys from Mur-bah, white and blue, and Bilambil red white and green, the whistle blown the game underway, the best I’ve ever seen…
A field goal crossed for Bilambil, there was one point on the board, then Old boys put on a move, and a try out wide they scored, well they missed the shot for conversion, but were looking good with the ball, then Bilambil got some possession, and the Jets were standing tall…
The half time hooter heard through the roar, Bilambil ahead but they needed more, with the wind in there face in the second half, and four in front, it didn’t seen enough…
As the players run on there’s a jet in the sky, the crowd an encouraging roar, two tries each up on the board and the mob was hot for some more…
Then Garret split’em clean through the middle, put the hooker in under the posts, the crowd gave such a mighty roar, they heard it way up the coast…
Someone in the stand got exited, and chucked a stubbie through the air, it bounced off Magoolie’s head, knocked him arse-over out of his chair, then Damro the coach, a bustling run, he’s made it, he’s over, he’s scored…
And a kick to come you beauty, two more points to put on the board, then Old boys started to run it, out from their quarter line, they took it up scored and converted, they were closer but still behind…
From a scrum Garret broke through the line, and crossed for a beautiful try, the Bilambil fans were shouting, the Jets were flying high…
The full time siren sounded, just as fourty four years before
Bilambil had won the comp, twenty-three, eleven the score.
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