A long way from nowhere the Rose Bowl
Trying so hard to find a soul
Bunting and tenting and banners
Cash to spend and generous manners
Give it time and the moment will come
Some brave deeds and a bottle of rum
Hampshire need heroes to fill their new ground
Oh, I wish Greenidge was still around
Soul defines cricket fields,
More than run yields
Elite men too; imagine Bristol without Grace
Or Hammond to set the pace
My own favourite is a shocker
You can say I'm off my rocker
Grace Road on its day
Once Illy taught 'em to play
It's a rough sort of ground
Not lovely but sound
Mundane and routine red brick
Just like Illy, not missing a trick
He assembled a team to suit the place
Hard nuts, bravehearts, never an ace
Scrappers and scrapers, triers galore
You could hear the purists call it "Illy's bore"
His tried and trusted dozen
Soon got buzzin'
Won a title or three
Not artists but busy as a bee
Each time I go, I see those work-d-day pros
Many a thistle, few like a rose
Sweatin' 'n' cussin' and scratchin' their arse
Well, that's how it was; hard cricket no farce
No, you don't need artistry as you win
Lots of skill and a little sin,
By the end of the season, you've carried coal
Won yourself a title and got a soul
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