Ode to the press

Oh the glorious press,
How it gets in a mess,
So I have to confess,
What on earth is the press? 

It goes left, it goes right,
such a confused sight,
Try as hard as we might, 
It is ever right?

We go ‘full’, we go ‘half’,
Are you having a laugh?!
All looks the same, 
It’s such a shame 

Someone shouts ‘CUT’
Chaos. 
Next verse please. 

It’s Tuesday again
Time for training, the rain
I need a bigger brain 
Or someone to explain 

So try as he might,
Sam is losing the fight, 
To explain again and again,
the press for the game. 

So what can be done, 
Do we all just run,
Or perhaps play for fun,
In the cold winter sun. 

Well how about today?
With swagger and sway
He blew them away 
Jack Humby- the man of the day 

Lemon is an easy award,
He was asleep, how he snored
Can his pride be restored?
It’s Connor, for the record

The press. Oh my friend
Will our chat ever end?
Such fun time to spend
Again, next weekend