The Gopher

Written by Peter Rowlett

The menagerie of Mollo is an act that’s hard to follow,

Unique and irreplaceable, his crew –

There’s the Hog and there’s the Rabbit, who’s a very useful habit

Of finding coups unknown to me and you.

Yet my own private hunch is this anthropomorphic bunch is

Incomplete, and lacking, so to speak;

There’s an unknown Griffin creature, one who really ought to feature:

I know it’s true: I play with him each week.

As defender or declarer you’ll find no-one who is squarer –

His card play never gives one cause for blame.

But bidding! Optimistic? Well, he’s far from realistic:

With twenty points he’ll always Gopher game.

His crazy calling antics would disgrace the Late Romantics –

He doesn’t know what moderation means.

As I sit, just quietly ‘damning', he is up there, blithely slamming

On hands that just ain’t worth a hill o’ beans.

As my poor brow is furrowing, the Gopher goes on burrowing:

"I thought I ought to Gopher it," he’ll smile.

"But for three unlucky guesses and those four offside finesses,

It would have been a top by half a mile!"

His charm is quite disarming, but our bridge results? Alarming!

I’ll never make Club Master (once my goal);

As sadly I unravel a most disappointing traveller

I know I’m with the Gopher, in a hole.