WTC Final bowlers' ball

Have bowlers become spicier? Hitches in batting riches Cut sl**s shut in a rut Pitches become dicier? Chestnut witches strut Gluts of stitches And seams dreams Humdrum Timber Tantrum doldrums Back in the hut What we did see at the WTC Wood from the tree No pretence…don’t do defence Weary..slain in vain again Don’t be wary..leery of Scary lairy leather fairies Won’t refrain..don’t restrain Might as well go insane In that Baz Ball vein Won’t sit on the fence Face facts..cracks No axe to the max No one really scored Adored stroke smorgasbord horde Flawed fraud joke ignored Afraid slayed blade misery Very merry cherry glee Ripsnorter slaughter yippee Choker jokers..the sly Aussies..rib pokers.. Did sledge.. snide..tried to deride and get the edge Was a helluva a ride Will always remember the mystery Markram and Temba’s pride..stopped the slide Wouldn't be denied..victory and History finally for the Saffa side.. But most batters rumbled Humbled as records crumbled Even helmet on..the memory will linger Of slip don Smith’s finger Catches dropping short Fumbled..fraught..bumbled On day one and two…bowling onslaught held sway Each day..14 wickets tumbled So willow and leather parity Hilarity…have to be a cruel fool to rule Was the best test contest of bat against ball Clarity of batters depravity Squarely at the end of their tether Another not too clever feather Gravity…kowtowed even without cloud Loud proud African crowd came Shame the Aussies can’t Just blame the weather For losing the game