This one goes out to all our tiger brothers and sisters banged up in Melbourne.
this is a work of non-fiction. any resemblance to characters real or imagined is not a coincidence. no vegans were harmed in the writing of this match report
I rang my bookie in the afternoon. I was feeling exceedingly confident, but when I checked the price on the tigers for the flag, the small print said
no refunds, regardless of season length.
so I rang her up and asked what happens? will I do my dough, on top of everything else going on?
and she goes just a sec, this is a strange one.
no *smile*.
she puts me on hold, and comes back on and says simply
logic will prevail.
really? I said. Will it really prevail? Can I tattoo that on my neck? because that's the most reassuring thing I've heard this year.
I thanked her profusely for swinging my mood. all my anxieties, all my pent up anger, all my cynicism of the world just fell away
logic - will - prevail
and so, noticing myself whistling for the first time in months, me and my boy went to the footy.
and we saw Marlion Pickett prevail. Logically.
If you select a sublimely skilled, flint hard Noongar man whose been tempered in casuarina for a few years, who has feet like Michael Jackson and an engine like Steve Monagetti, and who feels safe and loved on a footy field,
then logic says, he will take your breath away repeatedly; with acts of brutality inflicted on the opposition, selflessly buying time and space for his champion patron; with inspiring late game run to steal time and space from the opposition; by diving into packs in the manner of his injured Captain.
That is logic prevailing.
and if you task a gifted athletic 6ft6 Croat with a nasty streak with the slow torture of a lanky Tasmanian vegan,
then, Logic says the Croat prevails.
and if you have a bloke like $hai Bolton, for whom no adequate terms have yet really been coined to describe how he plays football, languishing on a flank,
and your entire engine room falters, and you say to him
'$hai, your going in the guts for a few weeks, if not forever'
well then the prevailing logic is, he demolishes games. he bewitches his opposition and the crowd, with nonchalance.
and, if your side has been strategically strangled all year by weight of numbers in your attacking zone,
and you relax into it,
logic prevails.
tell Higlet, George and Performing to run the *smile* the other way, and leave all their *smile* wondering what the *smile* they are doing there. work the angles from 70 out, cause there's shitload of you little cunning *smile* there, and go in deeeeppppppp.
The only part of the game where logic did not prevail,
was, despite all this, Eggs being the best man on the ground.
so all our tiger brothers and sisters who may be feeling a little hemmed in by the world. cynical, angry, scared. remember this.
my bookie is a lying cheat, and the only place logic really prevails,
is on a footy field.
and we were born barracking for Richmond.
this is a work of non-fiction. any resemblance to characters real or imagined is not a coincidence. no vegans were harmed in the writing of this match report
I rang my bookie in the afternoon. I was feeling exceedingly confident, but when I checked the price on the tigers for the flag, the small print said
no refunds, regardless of season length.
so I rang her up and asked what happens? will I do my dough, on top of everything else going on?
and she goes just a sec, this is a strange one.
no *smile*.
she puts me on hold, and comes back on and says simply
logic will prevail.
really? I said. Will it really prevail? Can I tattoo that on my neck? because that's the most reassuring thing I've heard this year.
I thanked her profusely for swinging my mood. all my anxieties, all my pent up anger, all my cynicism of the world just fell away
logic - will - prevail
and so, noticing myself whistling for the first time in months, me and my boy went to the footy.
and we saw Marlion Pickett prevail. Logically.
If you select a sublimely skilled, flint hard Noongar man whose been tempered in casuarina for a few years, who has feet like Michael Jackson and an engine like Steve Monagetti, and who feels safe and loved on a footy field,
then logic says, he will take your breath away repeatedly; with acts of brutality inflicted on the opposition, selflessly buying time and space for his champion patron; with inspiring late game run to steal time and space from the opposition; by diving into packs in the manner of his injured Captain.
That is logic prevailing.
and if you task a gifted athletic 6ft6 Croat with a nasty streak with the slow torture of a lanky Tasmanian vegan,
then, Logic says the Croat prevails.
and if you have a bloke like $hai Bolton, for whom no adequate terms have yet really been coined to describe how he plays football, languishing on a flank,
and your entire engine room falters, and you say to him
'$hai, your going in the guts for a few weeks, if not forever'
well then the prevailing logic is, he demolishes games. he bewitches his opposition and the crowd, with nonchalance.
and, if your side has been strategically strangled all year by weight of numbers in your attacking zone,
and you relax into it,
logic prevails.
tell Higlet, George and Performing to run the *smile* the other way, and leave all their *smile* wondering what the *smile* they are doing there. work the angles from 70 out, cause there's shitload of you little cunning *smile* there, and go in deeeeppppppp.
The only part of the game where logic did not prevail,
was, despite all this, Eggs being the best man on the ground.
so all our tiger brothers and sisters who may be feeling a little hemmed in by the world. cynical, angry, scared. remember this.
my bookie is a lying cheat, and the only place logic really prevails,
is on a footy field.
and we were born barracking for Richmond.
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