Ode to the Statistician (The Savant's Prayer)
Though I've seen so many play,
To the stats I must refer,
I shalt not trust my eye one bit,
The numbers crunch, to Excel aver.
Whilst you may simply love the game,
I prefer dissection.
Crunching numbers big and small,
Gives me a [slight] erection.
I love to use selective stats,
And talk down old Test players.
I love to skew my pointless graphs,
And talk up new One Dayers.
There will be those who say they've seen,
Great players old and new,
But I know what makes players great;
A difference of ".2"
I might have watched these players play,
Both with bat and ball,
And though I loved that every day;
What counts are numbers, small.
There will come a time, I guess,
When I may appreciate
The beauty of a cover drive,
Of someone bowled right through "the gate".
The only thing of which I fear,
Is missing all the action.
'Cos I'm too busy working out,
The bloke's average to a fraction.
I know which words from me will fly,
When beauty meets my eye -
"I did but see one cover drive,
Yet I'll analyse until I die"