Loudly the guns and artillery sounded,
upon our defences the Russian shells pounded,
but fears of a massacre proved quite unfounded,
for though we were quite overrun,
the Russians could only stare at us, dumbfounded
by the exploits of one Richard Dunne.
He rallied the troops with a rearguard action,
cautioned the line to avoid all distraction
and while the foe railed against every infraction,
he just glared in the September sun.
Arshavin and co derived no satisfaction
from the man-mountain called Richard Dunne.
Cannon in front of him volleyed and thundered
but he stepped in the breach when a comrade had blundered.
Was this a single man? Was it a hundred
that stopped all their missiles for fun?
The men from the east drank their vodka and wondered
at the demi-god called Richard Dunne.
Forward, still forward, the Russian ranks flooded
but he was unbowed though battered and bloodied,
his face bathed in sweat and engagingly bloodied
as the web of a legend was spun.
Many years on, the videotape will be studied
of the colossal, impassive,
undefeatably massive,
Herculean Richard Dunne.
(I thought Paul McGrath's performance against Italy in the Giants Stadium in 1994 would never be surpassed but oh my God, Richard Dunne was incredible against the Russians)
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