When something you bother to believe in ends in disillusion AND NOT FOR THE FIRST FUCKING TIME OH NO THIS IS NOT THE FIRST TIME WE’VE SADDLED UP THIS HORSE NAMED HOPE it resonates in a painful and very personal fashion.
But, oh well. Show me something that doesn’t. Aside from this guy of course, who seemed to grasp which way the wind was blowing in terms of our need for comic relief and acted accordingly and at some personal expense:
Here is a quick education in the rude realities of recent Origin history. Multiply this picture by 8. I am not in the mood for subtleties.
Cameron Smith - who according to popular sporting opinion is said to be as charming and welcoming in his dealings with referees as a pie cooling on a windowsill – talks pretty to them and they practically drop drawers and bend over on the spot for him. Jesus Christ. It leaves me feeling unclean just talking about it.
It also further proves the theory that popular sporting opinion does not always refer to what I consider reality. This, incidentally, or so the psychiatrist who I avoid making eye contact for once a fortnight suggests, may have something to do with why Matt Shirvington and his big swinging balls present pre-game panel shows on Foxtel while I post on a grossly underappreciated blog?