The ground is long, the boundaries wide,
Everywhere to run, nowhere to hide.
We play for kicks and cheap beer,
And give it the flick at end of third year.
New blood is precious, old blood rare,
Open-eyed innocence, intense stares,
Through generations of constant refrain,
We welcome you, but you have to train.
Are you serious, about having fun,
When the game's on, will you run, run, run?
Will you dive into packs, take up the slack,
Defend as a forward, attack from the back?
Will you push as hard as you can,
Or be just another also ran?
Will you dig deep when the pressure's on,
Or practice lyrics to the club song?
You don't get to sing it, unless you win,
And you won't sing it, unless you put in.
Spare a few thoughts for 'Trobers past,
Those who won and lost and laughed,
Because they are you, just the same,
And rooting for you every game,
Craig Nelson 2010
