FORAS Cup comes round again
Nineteen teams, some boys, some men
What can make it great this year?
Who would add that sleek veneer?
Who could bring that extra bite?
This worthy tournament ignite?
There’s only one group it could be
The infamous F.O.C.C.
Karl and Collie with Paulo Bhoy
The McCarthy brothers set to destroy
Dave the Save and Heaga too
We still were short a name or two
A narrow defeat at the very beginning
We led the next to the verge of winning
A late concession, hit like a bus
Young Kevins nose the only plus
We only now had two games left
To exit would leave all bereft
What could the gaffer conjure now?
A brief call made, just saying “Ciao”
Now at least, we knew the requirement
The team it needed some urgent acquirement
That chink of light came from the medallions
Enter Claudios, our Italian battalion
The call from the players came in real audio
What’ll we call them, they’re both Claudio?
The gaffer stepped in, he knew just what to do
“Call ‘em Claudio One and Claudio Two”
Flood gates opened, dam was broke
What’s the Italian for master stroke?
Before our escape to the quarters was done
The randomers hatcheted Claudio One
Ankle swollen, quarters now beckoning
Another dilemma on this day of reckoning
Only one course of action would surely suffice
In to the bar for a bucket of ice
5 minutes rest was hardly sufficient
Even with a manager vastly omniscient
Weakened and tired we bowed out with style
FOCC made it all so worthwhile