3G or not 3G, that is the question.....

3G or not 3G, that is the question:

Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer

Abandonments by an outrageous referee,

Or to take pitchforks to a sea of a penalty box,

And by facing a points deduction to slip down the league

No more; and by a relegation, to say we end

The heart-ache, and the thousand unsold programmes

That cant be recycled? 'Tis a chairmans nightmare

Devoutly to be avoided. A relegation,

A relegation, perchance to play Hythe; aye, there's the rub,

For in that Derby of death, what nightmares may come,

When we have shuffled off this Isthmian League,

Must give us pause. There's the lost fixtures

That makes Calamity of so wet Winters:

For who would bear the Waterlogged pitches,

The 10am inspection's wrong, the proud man can't bounce a ball

The pangs of despised officials, misinterpreting the laws of the game

The insolence of the fixtures secretary, and the spurns

That patient merit of the fans' takes,

When he himself might a better pitch decision make

With a bare patch of grass? Who would bigger patches bear,

To grunt and sweat like a weary groundsman,

But that the dread of something after another postponement,

The undiscovered plastic pitch, from whose friction burns

No players leg hairs returns, puzzles the physio,

And makes us rather wince when the skin scrapes off,

But are there better artificial pitches that we know not of?

Thus making the 3G decision does make cowards of us all,

And thus the natural grass looking part of 3G

Is sicklied o'er, but can be washed by the magic sponge,

And clubs of great pitch and moment,

With this regard their postponements turn awry,

And lose no match revenue. a no-brainer you now,

The fair 3G choice? No selection is a sin

Of that a chairman will be remember'd.