The Bandywallop Ball by Tony Hammill tells of a winning bush poet invited to recite at a country festival’s formal ball.
As the speeches run long and the hall grows restless, the recital takes an increasingly rowdy turn—with beer cans, flying chairs and a final piece of advice for performance poets.
The Bandywallop Ball
By Tony Hammill
I’d received an invitation to the Bandywallop Ball,
And the Festival Committee had endorsed the welcome call,
For I’d won their bush verse comp. and they had begged me to recite
At their formal bash and presentations on one summer night.
Now through courtesy (and yes, the chance to wallow in success!)
I replied that I’d be there to give my best shot (more or less!),
So your city bushman fooled with fate and stepped inside the hall
To find the party swinging at the Bandywallop Ball.
There was not a tie in sight and I was plainly overdressed;
A few were bravely dancing though the bar had claimed the rest.
There were sun-tanned faces everywhere and chaps you’d never cheek,
With fists like hams and broken noses, all as tough as teak!
So I mingled, making small talk there amidst the heat and noise,
And pondered how such pretty girls got saddled with those boys,
Till finally, as if to end the blank stares aimed at me,
The President began to spruik about the B.F.C.
Now any mug with half a brain would’ve kept it short and sweet,
For the bush set hadn’t come along to hear some gasbag bleat,
But he bragged about the exploits of his perishing Committee
Till the atmosphere around me grew unquestionably – nasty!
Next we copped a boring list of those who’d won the prizes,
While I swam in sweat, my ego now deflated several sizes!
Then came the royal summons, so I made the longest walk
Like Morant to execution: game, with not the slightest baulk.
Now my winning poem was lengthy, and it took the well-worn tack
Of the trials and tribulations of a drover on the track;
But Saltbush Bill or Clancy would’ve made a different plan,
Since before the first sweet verse was through the discontent began.
There were jeers and interjections, but what peeved me even more
Were the louts who chose to chatter on and treat me with ignore!
But the coup de grace soon followed from a rabbling, boozy bunch
Who commenced an aural barrage with a loud, infernal ‘crunch!’
For the boys were stomping beer cans at the bar with great delight,
Accompanied by peals of raucous laughter laced with spite!
But when a brave soul intervened and dared to shout “Fair go!”
He copped between the eyes a full green VB Bitter blow!
Then fists and chairs went flying like all hell had broken loose,
With the MC crying “Order!” but to mighty little use;
And what more could I do as I stood thunderstruck with fright,
But bolt and seek the warm and tender sanctuary of night?
Now I still awake with cold sweats, and at times blood-curdling screams
At a crunching can cacophony that echoes in my dreams;
It’s Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, so my doctor said,
And with therapy he’s sure that it will fade before I’m dead!
But I couldn’t die before imparting words of sound advice
To all performance poets lest they too should pay the price:
Your craft demands good timing, so if you receive the call,
Please CAN your invitation to the Bandywallop Ball!
Note: The above is based on the experience of a bush poet friend of mine, the late Ron Stevens.
This poem won a first, second, third and a highly commended in national competitions.
Keeping The Verse Alive
The Bandywallop Ball is shared with permission from Tony Hammill through Keeping The Verse Alive, Country Campfire’s bush poetry preservation project.
By preserving poems like this, we’re helping ensure the stories, humour and characters of country Australia continue to be enjoyed for generations to come.
Tony Hammill
Award-Winning Bush Poet • Australian History Writer • Researcher • Retired Teacher
Tony Hammill is an award-winning bush poet and Australian history writer whose research explores folklore, historical figures and the stories behind Australian legends.
Poems, recitals, photographs, stories and original works remain the property of their original creator and are shared by Country Campfire with permission.
