Washed up on the shores of Sydney Harbour. No marmite, no music and no mercy from the locals.
The whispers in the dark of night, the cries of drunken joy in the early hours of the morning and the slow burning madness of a mixed up, shook up, muddled up, upside down world.
Thursday, September 11, 2008
Pre-match nerves (1)
The Grand Final has been put back a week because of the torrential rain, it has given me an extra 6 days to let my calf recover and has opened a can of selection worms for the coach. On the one hand I'll be gutted to be on the bench, on the other it means I might be able to survive until the final whistle.