Yesterday evening in Regents Park
Midst gentle chatter, as it grew dark,
Balls rose and fell with merry thud
Onto gravel caked in mud

Twelve teams began, eyes lit up
With childhood dreams of raising the cup
But hopes stooped, crumpled and fell
While ours grew stronger, stately and well.

Until at last, in the fading light
Waghorn threw the shot of the night
By gum we’d won it! Triumphant cry:
“Maxus the champions!” Enscrawled on the sky

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