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Feb 2015
When Rome fell down,
Don Newton with his flashing blade
Took over.

He marched the corridors of Table Tennis power
For more than fifty years.
And graced a multitude of committees with his
Presence.

As Mister NALGO, Don constructed
A glorious empire
Of countless teams
At many a venue:
Down Pasture Street,
In Weelsby, Yarra, Knoll,
Electric Club,
Saint James...
To name a few.

Amassing titles and cups
From every division
Of the Grimsby League:
A roll of honour too long to recall,
Now stretching to the horizon.

No fancy sponge, reversed rubber,
Or long-pimples for our Don.
Give him a plain old Barna bat,
Devoid of sponge, short-pimples out,
To give that ball a mighty clout.

The simple things in life
Were all he wished:
A pint of mild,
Or game of chess,
Would always go down well.

This table tennis granddad knows the score,
And takes his leisure now,
Contented as
The sun goes down.

Paul Butters
Dedicated to my old friend Don, who passed away in the early hours of 9\2\2015. Actually composed when he retired from serious involvement with table tennis in 2009. Have slightly amended it tonight, hopefully for the better.
Paul Butters
Written by
Paul Butters  UK
(UK)   
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