My medical results came the other day,
They were a sorry sight to behold.
The Doctor looked at me and sighed,
“Son you might not live to be old.
Your cholesterol is high,
Your blood pressure is low,
Your heartbeat erratic,
And your pulse quite slow.
You need to start taking exercise
Perhaps try a sport as a hobby?”
“Doctor,” I said ,”that’s not possible.
Sports really not my cup of tea.
Just look closely at those results doc
Tell me why I can’t follow your advice?”
The doctor rescanned the paperwork,
And his eyebrows began to rise.
“It can’t be, it’s impossible,” he spluttered.
“But your sport gene has withered and died.
I really must confirm these results,
Tell me what sports you have tried?”
“Well doc I didn’t get a kick out of football,
And why people play cricket I’m stumped.
Golf’s really just not for me,
I even get tired playing top trumps.
I’ve certainly never tried rugby,
And darts just seems pointless,
Swimming made my heart sink,
Why even walking gives me stress!”
“My dear boy you must try something,
You can’t just sit and mope.
There must be some sport you do like?
Something with even which you can cope?”
“Well I enjoy a short walk to the pub doc,
Where I might jump the queue at the bar.
Then I’ll give my pint arm a workout,
But I don’t like to take things to far!”
I think this upset the good doctor,
He said,” your future isn’t bright.”
So I left his surgery quite sharpish,
And popped into my local for a pint.