ABANDONED BADGER AT TOWNSEND MEADOW...

 Losing The Bodging…

Cold, stark block,

Backed by bush invasion

Revealed a twisted row of damaged, plastic seats,

Ripped asunder, rent to an angle

In the dampness

And the darkness:

Broken to a tangle.

Single seat behind,

Hacked by cruel derision,

Proved a suitable place for The Bodging’s image;

Positioned beneath, propped on the frame

In the bleakness

And the blackness,

Stricken, to my shame…

The Bodging remained, I was perhaps distracted:

Abandoned, he was forgotten there.

I skirted the pitch in persistent drizzle

And watched the game, blissfully unaware…

He is usually sat upon the passenger seat

When I drive home after a match

But upon my windscreen that night I noticed

A ball-shaped, muddied round patch…

I wiped away the offending mire,

Oblivious, I was soon on the road in the rain

Then suddenly remembered The Bodging, apparently safe in my bag

And thus thrust in a hand, but in vain…

He was missing! I panicked, where was my badger?

Companion, mascot, hand-puppet but now GONE…

He’d even been to the Nou Camp in Barcelona

And on the physio’s bench laid upon…

Egypt, Dubai, Venice, Athens and Rome,

His passport is tattered and torn;

Now cruelly he’d been dumped on a chair in Warwick

And I bet he wished he’d never been born…

I was driving the M40, whatever could I do?

I was shocked and truly deflated

But then recalled where Coventry United’s dugout

That night had been ideally situated…

It had been in front of The Bodging’s stranded chair

And instantly to Edwin Greaves I turned;

I rang him, explained and he set off on a search,

Then awaited his call-back, as my belly churned… 

FOUND! RESCUED! Not nicked or thrown away…

Edwin photographed the waif for my reassurance;

And thus The Bodging spent a few days in Coventry

At Greaves Manor, the manager’s residence…

Another image was received on the following day,

The Bodging was obviously safe and warm;

He was terribly missed but certainly looked after,

Though mentally, I had weathered a storm…

At Sphinx Drive The Bodging arrived on the Saturday

In Edwin’s Driving School limousine;

He sat on the passenger seat, like the instructor

And I uttered simply: “WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN..?”

Pete Ray

This happened at Racing Club Warwick’s ground on Shrove Tuesday, 2016. I cannot explain how I managed to leave The Bodging on a broken chair… Age, I guess.

The puppet is a feature of my match-days and has been to more places than even my parents did throughout their whole lives. 

Lost, then found… Edwin Greaves was a star…

Thanks, mate.

This will never be forgotten…