Under 8’s
When I was barely eight years old
My mother did despair,
‘Cause even though I was a girl
I thought this was unfair.
For boys always had much more fun
Than girls could ever know.
They got to choose what they would do;
Girls kept the status-quo.
So, I’d pretend I was a boy
And dress with that in mind,
In hand-me-downs my brothers gave
While dresses I declined.
My poor mother was mortified
Her little girl would not
Conform and be more lady-like -
A tomboy’s what she got.
So, there I was one Sat’dy ‘morn
All dressed in footy gear,
When fate stepped in and brought to bare
My mother’s greatest fear.
A rugby coach came up and said
“I don’t know what’s his name –
But would your son be keen to play?
Our team’s short for this game.”
“My son’s a girl” my mum replied,
Much to the man’s dismay.
But undeterred, I argued for
The right for me to play.
I don’t know how, I can’t recall
Somehow, I won the day
Convinced them all I’d be alright -
Ran on to join the fray.
Now they tell me that I wasn’t shy,
Smashed straight into the ruck.
I mauled and passed and kicked the ball,
Could not believe my luck.
As weeks went by I made some friends -
(Told them my name was Pete).
And lived for weekend footy games,
My joy was now complete.
But would you know, I’m sure you guessed
That something would go wrong.
Another club, they did protest
That girls could not belong.
And that is how it all began
That I was on TV.
Much more than let me play the game –
Fight for equality!
Opinions were divided then,
(It was a different time).
For segregation was the norm
In Nineteen Sixty-Nine.
They let me play the year out though,
Gave me some time to shine,
But that was how my short career
Ended ‘fore I was nine.
I look at how the world’s progressed
Now girls play every sport,
Enjoy their opportunity,
Good fortune and support.
I’d like to think that way back then
At least I paved the way,
For girls like me who strapped on boots
To wait for their game day.
Of course, I grew and had some kids
My girls were much like me.
They didn’t want to do ballet,
That much I could foresee.
I drove them ‘round from field to field,
Delighted they had choice,
And fantasised I played a part
By using my small voice.
My story doesn’t end quite there
My career it was revived!
Yes, I made my soccer debut
When I was forty-five!
So, don’t give up on all your dreams
For some of them come true.
Just fight the fight and live the dream,
There’s much that you can do.
Penny O’Shea
24 September 2018
When I was barely eight years old
My mother did despair,
‘Cause even though I was a girl
I thought this was unfair.
For boys always had much more fun
Than girls could ever know.
They got to choose what they would do;
Girls kept the status-quo.
So, I’d pretend I was a boy
And dress with that in mind,
In hand-me-downs my brothers gave
While dresses I declined.
My poor mother was mortified
Her little girl would not
Conform and be more lady-like -
A tomboy’s what she got.
So, there I was one Sat’dy ‘morn
All dressed in footy gear,
When fate stepped in and brought to bare
My mother’s greatest fear.
A rugby coach came up and said
“I don’t know what’s his name –
But would your son be keen to play?
Our team’s short for this game.”
“My son’s a girl” my mum replied,
Much to the man’s dismay.
But undeterred, I argued for
The right for me to play.
I don’t know how, I can’t recall
Somehow, I won the day
Convinced them all I’d be alright -
Ran on to join the fray.
Now they tell me that I wasn’t shy,
Smashed straight into the ruck.
I mauled and passed and kicked the ball,
Could not believe my luck.
As weeks went by I made some friends -
(Told them my name was Pete).
And lived for weekend footy games,
My joy was now complete.
But would you know, I’m sure you guessed
That something would go wrong.
Another club, they did protest
That girls could not belong.
And that is how it all began
That I was on TV.
Much more than let me play the game –
Fight for equality!
Opinions were divided then,
(It was a different time).
For segregation was the norm
In Nineteen Sixty-Nine.
They let me play the year out though,
Gave me some time to shine,
But that was how my short career
Ended ‘fore I was nine.
I look at how the world’s progressed
Now girls play every sport,
Enjoy their opportunity,
Good fortune and support.
I’d like to think that way back then
At least I paved the way,
For girls like me who strapped on boots
To wait for their game day.
Of course, I grew and had some kids
My girls were much like me.
They didn’t want to do ballet,
That much I could foresee.
I drove them ‘round from field to field,
Delighted they had choice,
And fantasised I played a part
By using my small voice.
My story doesn’t end quite there
My career it was revived!
Yes, I made my soccer debut
When I was forty-five!
So, don’t give up on all your dreams
For some of them come true.
Just fight the fight and live the dream,
There’s much that you can do.
Penny O’Shea
24 September 2018
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