Me talking footy? I don't care to know about half back flanks and punt kicks, but I don't mind the goss.
With our Ben leading the charge to the bar, Richmond footy club is in trouble for riotous behaviour at a Sydney Hotel. Wouldn't happen to have been the Coogee Bay Hotel would it? Just a guess. It does have a reputation. The team has been so sick of waiting for a win (pokes out tongue at Tony) and the chance for a celebration, they decided to celebrate another loss instead.
When I was young, if I was questioned, I would say I barrack for Collingwood. Now I say St Kilda, since I am something of a local and have been for a long time. Changing footy teams is an unforgivable sin for those who take the game seriously. All my male relatives and Sister and the Bone Doctor take football so seriously. At some point when I was a kid, I realised that wrestling on tv was fake. Regardless, my late step father used to take it seriously. I think I am coming to the realisation that football is now fake. It is art performance by professional actors.
Among the cast of a good performance there must be a baddie and it seems Mick Malthouse, coach of team Collingwood, is the man.
The latest tale of his horridness is only a confirmation of what I have thought for a long time. A nastier piece of sneering and supercilious work you could not find.