Heaps of well intended advice since Saturday's disaster.
Reservoir Mum tried to turn me to the positives - Geelong's winning record over the past two years, and of course, the Premiership last year I never thought I'd see the Cats deliver.
My old man talked about the future - the fact that we will have a pretty good side for several seasons to come and may even get another tilt at a flag.
Two of my best mates suggested that I just - get - over - it.
Well, there is a chance that I'll get over it one day but it's not going to be anytime soon. Anyway, I wasn't after these kinds of logical grown-up words.
So when I got home yesterday I put all the well intended advice behind me and sought some solace with a person whose emotional development was more fitting to my mood. The young Archie.
We sat in front of a newspaper together and opened to the team photos of that horrid grand final. The glorius blue and white hoops and the much uglier brown and yellow stripes.
"Now, Archie," I said. "Which colors look like they belong to to the inside of a toilet?"
He tilted his head to the side and then looked at me with a blank expression.
I gave it a moment's thought and then put it a different way. "Which jumper looks like poo and wee?"
Archie laughed and pointed to Hawthorn.
"Good boy," I said, as I gave him a big daggy Daddy hug.
Archie laughed some more and I smiled as much as I was able.
"They look like poo and wee," he said again.
"Yes they do mate," I said closing the paper and saying goodbye to another season. "They look exactly like poo and wee."
Reservoir Mum tried to turn me to the positives - Geelong's winning record over the past two years, and of course, the Premiership last year I never thought I'd see the Cats deliver.
My old man talked about the future - the fact that we will have a pretty good side for several seasons to come and may even get another tilt at a flag.
Two of my best mates suggested that I just - get - over - it.
Well, there is a chance that I'll get over it one day but it's not going to be anytime soon. Anyway, I wasn't after these kinds of logical grown-up words.
So when I got home yesterday I put all the well intended advice behind me and sought some solace with a person whose emotional development was more fitting to my mood. The young Archie.
We sat in front of a newspaper together and opened to the team photos of that horrid grand final. The glorius blue and white hoops and the much uglier brown and yellow stripes.
"Now, Archie," I said. "Which colors look like they belong to to the inside of a toilet?"
He tilted his head to the side and then looked at me with a blank expression.
I gave it a moment's thought and then put it a different way. "Which jumper looks like poo and wee?"
Archie laughed and pointed to Hawthorn.
"Good boy," I said, as I gave him a big daggy Daddy hug.
Archie laughed some more and I smiled as much as I was able.
"They look like poo and wee," he said again.
"Yes they do mate," I said closing the paper and saying goodbye to another season. "They look exactly like poo and wee."
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1 comment:
Yeah...well...If they'd kicked straight they might have won! How much did they have wagered as team on Hawthorn to win???Salt...wound...rub!! Take it easy big guy.
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