Untitled

The Shooters

The day was full of promise, with dreams of cross and crown,

Pat Cardinell and I faced off, all bets were firmly down.

Through the first three stages, each had a perfect score,

But then disaster happened, it almost caused a war.

We finished off the relay, assumed we qualified,

But when we travelled forward, it was then I almost died.

Twenty four had hit the target, but twenty four were gone,

But the little missing bullets, would not be gone for long.

Just from the cries of wonderment, issuing from Pat,

Told me, the whole sad story, where each of them was at.

Patrick's perfect target, bore an extra few,

Total holes recorded were, seventy plus two.

I shot the wrong damn target, Pat's face was angry red,

I'm glad his gun was empty, or I surely might be dead.

How could I shoot the wrong one?, was the question on my mind,

I just got stronger glasses, maybe I've gone blind.

Even that is not the answer, the next two I shot fine,

Although my partner Patrick, moved four spots down the line.

You would think he doesn't trust me, old deadeye with a gun,

And probably he didn't, when all was said and done.

There is a happy ending, to my little tale of woe,

We both are newly qualified, the record books now show.

But forever will this day live, to go down in infamy,

The day that Patrick Cardinell, debated shooting ME!!!

PC 664 T.J. Gowdyk 87-10-27 (46)