Unaware of what the fate preordained-
on the playground of destiny he stood.
A harmless bouncer but devil engrained,
and leather turned lethal, pierced the hood.
Fatal blow prolongs not an injury.
And in pain he crumbled, in vain he sought.
So helpless the bowler in agony.
Funny no more the game- who would have thought?
No tears enough can express the grief
nor words pronounce the lament, and console.
Our hearts now filled with Phil -tho his stay brief,
the spirit with us would forever stroll.
Each game hence played would be in his regard.
We shall see him in the twenty two yards.
