ODE’ TO PETER DAICOS THE MACEDONIAN MARVEL

He would get up early, play all day
And finish in the dark,
How glad we are he chose black and white
And headed for Victoria Park.

He had all the skills and attributes
To make himself a star,
His goal sense was of all the best
This put him ahead by far.

From straight in front, up close, afar
Or on the boundary from the pocket,
He could thread the needle like none before
Some say better than that man Lockett.

On his day he could kick a bag full
Through the sticks,
His opponents would just stand there
And they’d marvel at his tricks.

Some say he was a fluke
That the last one was pure arse,
He did it all too often
This man was pure class.

When he got the ball in the forward half
The crowd would start to roar,
They knew that this was going to add
Six points to his team’s score.

In 1990 he helped his team win
The greatest prize of all,
A premiership medallion he did earn
which now hangs upon his wall.

He was one of the all time greats
To that all must agree,
A forward pocket specialist
A better one you’ll never see.

To end my ode’ to the great man
Who’s retirement was a loss,
The memory that will last forever
Of the silky skilled DAICOS.