YUH ever see Lara bat?
See de ball like ah blur as it hits de boards?
See de flashing blade and exaggerated arc?
Prince of Town and Lord of Lords?
Remember de last day in Kensington?
When he buss dat 153?
He shoulda been charged with murder Because he dead kill dem Aussie And is how he did it that matter Like Atlas, he team on he shoulder And didn’t our souls soar and we hearts flutter Reminding we dat cricket makes life richer.
Yuh ever see Lara bat?
Boy, dis man could dance on water, See his head still for days, As limbs proceed wid buttery slaughter Ah always remember how dey wud blame de man For livin like ah West Indian, I say, drink yuh drink, fete yuh fete Jus yuh carry yuh bat to full effect.
True fans know yuh blood bleed burgundy, And yuh heart big as Blue Mountains, Like a doctor in bypass surgery, Yuh pierce de gaps, and leave bowlers wanting.
Yuh ever see Lara bat, boy?
Small man wit reflexes like ah cat, boy, Murali and Warne, men with wrists of pain, Are swept away with numbing disdain.
When de Prince walk tuh de crease How do we measure the fun?
Like a Vivi flick through midwicket Straight out the barrel of a gun, Like an Ambi Yorker, or Marshall bouncer Ah Greenidge cut through extra cover, A Logie or Harper fielding display, Or how Colis was King for a day, How do we really measure the fun I say all the above, rolled into one.
Yuh ever see Lara bat, son?
MRF turn magic wand, son, With ah commanding wave and defiant steer Abracadabra, look de ball disappear.
When Lara fails, there is a cloud of gloom The crowd goes silent, like if ah vacuum Had sucked de energy, and absorbed de will, And man get so vex, he ready tuh kill, When Lara fails, is like ah sin, Yuh mean we have to wait for the next inning? We like we in hell, but heaven soon come And lift our souls, Like 400 and Five-O-One.
Dave Anthony Ghatt