Fifty is a milestone celebrated in many ways: a fiftieth wedding anniversary; an innings of fifty runs; fifty first class wickets; fifty career goals; or even collecting your fiftieth Port Vale shirt. And reaching fifty years of age is a major milestone too. In this verse Barry draws on several parts of one ovf thread to help celebrate one poster’s fiftieth birthday.
Jonathon Scarth was true to form
When posting on this Friday morn
To say a regular onevalefan
Is a happy fiftieth birthday man,
But celebrating on this day
He would not tell, he would not say.
Sage revealed the mystery ‘Who’
Saying birthdays are so good for you,
Then added with a humorous dig
‘The more you have, the longer you live’,
But he did not have a secret pact
To conceal the name of Mister ‘Rapt
Then others joined the birthday queue
Like Burslem Babe, Rob Fielding too,
To give our lad of fifty years
A rapturous round of cyber cheers,
Plus a virtual cake with cream and jam
For a very special birthday man.
Now Paul T Vale with usual wit
Said special cushions he would fit
In his car that very same day
To ease Rapt’s journeys home and away,
A birthday present with a twist,
If you get his meaning, get his gist.
Love Rapt says he’s chuffed to know
The lengths that Paul T Vale would go
To help a mate from Aldershot
And make his life a better lot,
So he thanked Paul T for being kind
‘But forget the cushions, if you don’t mind’.
And what about our Trent Vale Chris
Who wants to give a birthday kiss,
But tells us it’s a crying shame
That he can’t be at tomorrows game,
Then again, it’s a great relief
He won’t be smooching Rapty’s cheek.
Next we have that other tease
We all know as Uncle Bede
Who wished Love Rapt a ‘Heppy’ day,
But what that means he cannot say,
Were his keyboard skills a little muddled?
Or is it him that’s really puddled?
Our Rapty shed a little tear
For ‘puddled’ is a word held dear,
It was often used by his mum
When speaking to her Potteries son,
But since he’s left and moved away
It’s a word forgotten until today.
It’s an adjective, says Johnny Aitch,
As clear as the nose on your face,
And though not one for pedantry
He makes the point for all to see,
‘I am, he is, she is puddled,
Or bloody stupid, but never muddled’.
From Burslem Babe another thought
Keeping birthday boy both trim and taut
Plus fleet of foot and sound of mind
With a generous heart and spirit kind,
Besides good ‘nosh’ and beers so strong
‘It’s all those wives who have kept him young’.
To the warm applause of onevalefan
He lifts his bat to the Fielding Clan
To receive our wishes of good luck
For reaching the magic fifty-up,
And with Lodge Gate we raise a glass
To salute an innings of first class.
February 21, 1953
Many happy returns LoveRapt
With many more to follow
From everyone at onevalefan
(ps Hugs and Kisses from Trent Vale Chris)
February 21, 2003