It makes me think of the classic song "All I want for Christmas is a Dukla Prague Away Kit" by Half Man Half Biscuit.
There was one of a gang
Who had Scalextric,
and because of that;
He thought he was better than you,
Every day after school,
You'd go around there to play him,
Hoping to compete in some kind championship,
but it always took about 15 billion hours to set the track up.
And even when you did, the thing never seemed to work.
It was a dodgy transformer, again and again.
It was a dodgy transformer, again and again.
It was a dodgy blue mass, again and again.
It was a dodgy transformer, cost 3 pounds 10.
So he sent his doting mother
Up the stairs with the stepladder,
To get the subutteo
Out of the loft.
It had all the accessories
Required for that big-match atmosphere.
The crowd and the dugout,
And the floodlights, too.
but you'd always get palmed off
With a headless center-forward,
And a goal-keeper with no arms,
And a face like his.
And he'd managed to get hold of
A Dukla-Prague Away Kit,
cause his uncle owned a sport shop
And he'd kept it to one side.
And after only five minutes
You'd be down to ten men,
cause he'd sent off your right back
for taking the base from under his left-winger
Come to half-time, you were losing, four-nil.
Each and every goal, a hotly disputed penalty.
So you smash up the floodlights
And the match was abandoned,
And the dog would bark
And you'd be banned from his house.
And your travelling army
Of synthetic supporters
Would be taken away from you
And thrown in the bin.
And now he's working
In a job with a future.
He hands me my Gyro (as in gyroscope, not "hero")
Every two weeks.
And me, I'm on the lookout
For a proper transformer.