It might be an idea to skip over this post if you're not into AFL or if you're an overly sensitive Dockers supporter.
But first, apologies for the absence - I didn't realise how long it had been until I looked at the date of my last post just then.
There's been lots keeping me busy on the house front, mainly painting, but we've also found a new garden-path bloke (a landscaper) who is smart and friendly and thorough, as in he's spent ages measuring things and chasing up tradesmen. He also bears more than a passing resemblance to this bloke.
Now, I don't know about you, but I'd be more than happy to mortgage the dog to have a smart and friendly Eric Close look-alike wandering around the place for a few days. Hopefully we won't have to - we'll find out when we get his quote today.
But back to footy. The pic at the top of this post is of the thoughful home-made trophy given to me by my nephew, a West Coast supporter, when Carlton first won the wooden spoon back in 2002.
It took him ages to colour it in with blue texta, which tells you all you need to know about West Coast supporters if you ask me.
Since then, despite another wooden spoon, the Blues have clawed their way back and
on Saturday night, for the first time in 8 years, will be playing finals footy.
A sad but true fact: I'm nearly wetting myself with excitement. It's one of the highlights of my year.
My friend, Dennis, on the other hand, is spewing. This is because Dennis is a Dockers supporter and, let's face it, has a lot to spew about.
Which brings me to another highlight of this year.
Considering I've been abused, ridiculed and generally dumped on for years for following Carlton, you'd think I'd empathise with the plight of Freo fans.
Unfortunately, life's not like that.
It all started innocently enough when the Dockers got a hiding at the hands of the Bombers back in Round 2. I thought it might be fun for Dennis to find in his mailbox an application for Bombers membership sent by Mr Matthew Lloyd himself.
The accompanying note read, "Mate, You know you want to do it, love from Mattie."
As it turned out, it was more than fun, it was addictive.
Every week since then, barring when he was overseas on holiday, Dennis has found a letter in his mailbox from people as diverse as Mr B. Fevola, Mr C. Cornes (who sent a lovely birthday card), Mr L.Jurrah, Mr S. Freud and Mr J.H. Christ ("Mate, Would you like me to ask Dad to smite Nick Riewoldt for you?").
The final letter, last weekend, was from Mr F. Sinatra on behalf of Mr M. Pavlich and the boys.
It went like this:
OUR WAY
And now, the end is here,
We stuffed it up, we blew the season.
My friend, I'll say it clear,
We came 14th, and with good reason.
We dropped so many kicks,
So many games, we played the Power way.
We're just a bunch of hicks,
Who did it our way.
Regrets, we've had a lot,
We wish we'd never started playing.
Each time we hit the road,
We knew we'd usually get a flaying.
We know we played like girls,
We'd like to say, not in a sour way,
We wish we'd never tried,
To do it our way.
Yes, there were times, I'm sure you knew,
When we bit off more than we could chew.
The Saints, the Magpies and the Crows,
The Dogs, the Cats, yes, heaven knows,
We lost them all, we hit the wall,
WE DID IT OUR WAY.
PS: Thanks for being such a good sport Dennis. Up the mighty Blues.
7 comments:
Lovely that you're back....I've missed your posts on life in your neck of the woods.
When you've finished with the garden path man send him to the northern hemisphere...we could do with something to cheer us up.
I'd better not mention the Ashes, I suppose...but it is so rare an occasion that I want to that I didn't resist the temptation.
Glad to hear you found a new garden path guy, hope the quote is not too expensive as I feel mortgaging the dog may not be the best option. I mean Ella is after all somewhat elderly and just imagine what the mandatory insurance cover costs would be??? Besides Ella is too cute!
As for footy I really hope its a great game and the outcome is to your liking.
Oh dear. I guess your crying round about now. You just have to keep repeating it's only a game, it's only a game, it's only a game.
Nice rhyme :P
Fly: thanks for the warm welcome back. I have the best intentions re blogging then before I know it, a couple of weeks have passed and I've done bugger all (although at least the laundry is finished, as in painted, tidied and re-arranged to within an inch of its life). I must pop over to your place and catch up...
Birgitta: The quote is three times the one we got from Mr Nasty but at least we know the job will get done and it will be done well and we'll never have to think about those damn paths again for as long as we live.
Judas: You betrayed the Blues for five bucks??!! Wise move, as it turned out. Eric Close plays a cop on TV's Without A Trace and looks even better in the flesh.
Davinia: I was gutted. I got four gloating text messages from Dennis the menace last night, which serves me right I suppose.
Bilby: Thanks. I do love composing the odd bit of doggerel.
Hey but it was a close game. I think a bottle of red could start to numb the feelings and to totally knock them dead finish off with some whisky.
Birgitta, I'm expecting the hangover to kick in about mid-afternoon. It was a game we should've won. We really died in the bum at the end.
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