Lawn Bowling Humour
In this section we provide some jokes, cartoons, poems, humorous stories, (true, false or apocryphal), and anything that will make you smile. We really need contributors for this so we will welcome any stories from members (or even about members) and guests Worldwide. Send them in! Apologies to visitors from countries who don't understand the Scottish vernacular.
Note: stories that are a wee bit risque are fine but remember that this is a family site.
I suppose the world should know of the happenings in Perth some years ago. I am assured by one of the people involved that this is not an urban myth! (I refrain from mentioning names to avoid giving offence.)
The story goes that Player A (the third) collapses on the green just as Player B (the skip) is about to let go of his bowl. The others call out to B to stop. B has a look and responds with "It's OK, I can draw around him!" The claim is that A heard this and this is the thing which gave him the will to survive his heart attack
Up and down, walking walking,
Often measuring, sometimes chalking;
Shifting mats - keeping score,
thirty ends, maybe more;
Aching back - tired of limb,
Cheers for others, none for him,
Night draws on, darker, darker,
No one cares for he's the marker!
The club secretary was visiting a fellow bowler in a brand new hospital, and asked about the place and things in general.
"The nurses are very good and so is the treatment" came the reply, "But the food gets a bit boring."
"What do you mean boring", asked the secretary ?
"Well we get "Haggis" for breakfast, "Haggis"for our lunch and then "Haggis"again for supper".
"Well what do you expect", says the secretary!
"THIS IS THE BURNS UNIT!"
I rang up my local bowling club, I said "Is that the local bowling club?"
He said "It depends where you're calling from."
The Wailing Wall (or the notice board at the Vale)
They beat their breasts and cried out loud,
As they faced the northern wall,
Where the selectors had placed the team selections
On the notice board was their call.
There were some that swore and some that cried,
And some who stood and muttered
Some were proud, some were coy,
And others merely stuttered.
There were voices raised in anger,
Shrill screams split the air,
There were those who didn't say a thing,
Because they really didn't care.
"I wont play with him", one said,
"He's a bloody hopeless skip."
And one who very quietly said,
"It's time I took my trip."
There were many self selections,
There were lots of "bloody hells!"
There weren't very many
who said the Selectors had done well.
The players knew who should be there,
They knew who to pick,
Just ask them when you hear them say,
"That selector is a $$##@!."
Each year the tears get deeper,
As on the floor they fall,
From those who stand in anguish
Before the wailing wall.
One of the old stories that is still funny today supposedly happened in the Vale a few Years ago. A well known skip was having a hard time from the other three in his team who had failed to contribute anything throughout the game.
At the last end the third walked down to the mat to play his first bowl and pausing, shouted back up the rink. "Where's oor nearest bool?".
"In yer ******* hand!", answered the skip.
If you can always roll the jack, right at your skipper's feet,
If you can always draw the shot, the one that must be beat.
When asked to play a 'yard on' do you judge it to perfection?
And when you're called to drive, can you always make correction?
If you can come up smiling when the other bloke,
Puts your good shot out of play and treats it as a joke.
If you're the one who saves the day, I'll say to you my son,
"You're a bloody hero, what's more the only one!"
" If your Skip wants an opinion, He'll give it to you".
Lead: "How much am I short?" Skip: "You ought to know, you're closer to it"
Definition of a Novice:
A new convert to bowls who confesses he knows nothing about the game and then becomes angry when you agree with him.
A Selectors Prayer
Blessed are they who can play sport
Blessed are they who can still be taught
Blessed are they who accept with grace
To play in any selected place
I'm a Member o' the Green
(A poem by the Bard o' the Vale, Duncan McLean)
It seems like only yesterday
a jint the bowling green .
But it's quite a guid few years now
since a came on the scene.
It's the company and the stories
and a' this great clubs glories
that makes me proud to tell ye
I'm a member o' the green.
It's on a Wednesday nicht
that a enjoy masel'.
For that's the nicht ye dae yer thing
and hae a drink as well.
Ye draw yer wee bit ticket
and see whit yer tae play.
And then go oot and dae yer best -
the best that ye can dae.
Noo it's time the game was started
and the introductions made
and tae hear the cries o', "Be well up!"
or, "Awfy nicely laid!"
If yer up against big Jimmy
or Tam or Pate or Jake
Ye can take it that ye'll no be lang
Until ye huv a break.
The breaks come fast and furious
if yer in a well placed team.
But believe me ye can meet the queeros
in some games in between.
But it disnae always happen -
maybe wance or twice ma freen.
It's great tae play on Wednesday nicht
on the bowling green .
There's lots and lots o' tournaments
and club competitions tae.
And again, it's up tae you
tae dae the best that ye can dae.
There's got to be some winners
and some runner uppers tae.
And of course there's losers
in competition play.
There's eftirnins fur playin'
fur the sweepstakes and the pennies.
Or trainin' fur the cups
Like that o' baker Rennie's.
There's the guys that like tae try
in wan that's called Carman.
And there's yins that work at wan
caud St.Michael an' McCann.
There's social nights for dancin'
And bingo sessions tae.
There's cabaret and concerts
and lots that ye can dae.
A tell't ye it's the company
an a' the great auld freens.
It's great tae tell yer neebors
yer a member o' the green.