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.
Saturday, September 13, 2008
Pre-match nerves (3)
90 minutes before kick off, just getting ready to leave the house, like I have so many hundreds of times. Nurofen popped, Voltarin applied, boots polished and ready to go!