The Ballad of Quinn and Hierro
¶ 1
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Fernando Hierro had but one small wish,
A little reward for his labours.
He yearned for his very own satellite dish,
Despite the strong views of his neighbours.
¶ 2
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But there was a bye-law that people respected,
And which he’d been warned not to flout –
No problem with aerials being erected,
But satellite dishes were out.
¶ 3
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Fernando, however, was keen on his sport,
And community-wise, kept aloof,
And so he dismissed what his neighbours all thought,
And fixed up a dish to his roof.
¶ 4
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Niall Quinn, as it happened, was honorary chairman,
Of the local residential committee,
And he called on Hierro and said, “It’s not fair, man,
Yon satellite dish isn’t pretty.”
¶ 5
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Hierro’s response was dismissive and fleeting,
And he sent the tall striker a-packing.
So Niall, enraged, called an emergency meeting,
To look for the residents’ backing.
¶ 6
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Well, they gave him their blessing to do what he could
To get the tough Spaniard’s compliance.
Provided ‘twas legal, they well understood
The need to face down his defiance.
¶ 7
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Now, Niall had some chickens [an old boyhood dream],
For he fancied himself as a farmer,
And cunningly now he did work out a scheme
Where they became part of his armour.
¶ 8
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Hierro’s back garden adjoined that of Niall,
And the floral display was impressive,
Orchids and dahlias and sweet camomile,
So much it was almost excessive.
¶ 9
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So Niall hung on till the Spaniard went out,
And then he ran down to his coop,
And he summonsed his chickens with one cheery shout,
And they gathered around in a group.
¶ 10
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He quickly dispensed several urgent instructions,
And thanked them for co-operating.
He knew that their actions might cause nasty ructions,
And possibly trouble lay waiting.
¶ 11
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And when he had finished, he lifted them gently,
And placed them all over the fence,
Ran up to his bedroom and peered out intently,
His face ever-watchful and tense.
¶ 12
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The chickens, though, followed their master’s request,
And made for the colourful beds,
And, clucking away with encouraging zest,
They pecked all the flowers to shreds.
¶ 13
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Well, Fernando returned in the late afternoon,
And his blood pressure instantly doubled.
All over his garden, bright flowers were strewn,
While chickens walked o’er them untroubled.
¶ 14
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He let forth a yell, and he ran back outside,
And he banged on the Mighty Quinn’s door.
As Niall came down, he, with innocence, cried,
“What on earth is that hammering for?”
¶ 15
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As he threw the door open, Hierro let loose,
And Quinn’s bright expression did vanish.
In turn, he enquired, why the florid abuse?
He’d never been taught rustic Spanish.
¶ 16
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Hierro then dragged him around to the back,
Where Quinner feigned innocent wonder.
The Spaniard was bulling, his temper was black
And he wore an expression like thunder.
¶ 17
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Niall announced that he wasn’t surprised
At the chickens’ despicable actions.
Perhaps poor Hierro had not realised
They hated these novel distractions.
¶ 18
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These chickens he tended, though docile and few,
Could suddenly turn pretty vicious,
The reason for which, as all poultry men knew,
Was the presence of satellite dishes.
¶ 19
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Perhaps ‘twas the colour, perhaps ‘twas the shape,
That caused certain fowl aggravation,
But the salient fact that he couldn’t escape,
Was – they flipped o’er a dish installation.
¶ 20
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Well, Hierro looked sideways at Quinn for a while,
Sceptically mulling and thinking,
And then his bronzed face creased into a great smile,
And one of his eyes started winking.
¶ 21
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“You’re very inventive, you know, Senor Quinn.
I admire the way you’ve contested.
You played most unfairly, but I’ll let you win,
I’ll take down the dish as requested.
¶ 22
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I’ll purchase an aerial, throw in the towel,
And thank God you don’t own any cattle!”
And thus, though Hierro quite loudly cried, “Fowl!”
‘Twas Quinn won the aerial battle.
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