vs
4-2 win to Nannas
CB 2, DC 1, JH, TW, TK, RH, AW, CG, TH(coach)
Well, well, well.
On the Serengeti plains of western Africa there are heaps of wildebeasts. The meat is everywhere and the lion pride can take their pick. But then the grass disappears (Jim) and so does the meat (Jim). It’s called the great migration and it requires some pretty nifty motion graphics to really get a handle on it’s massive scope. But the poor old lionesses and lion cubs are territorial and they would rather starve than wear out their soft pussy paws on a big old march north on the tails of the Wilding ones. So they just wander around looking for meat, getting real hungry until hunks of their fur starts falling out and they turn into weak-ass niggas with no muscle.
The Nannas love to go four goals up. There’s nothing better. Kondo slots an early goal deep into the netting. Cocky slips a shanghai shuffler into the goal that drips in like we are watching that shit at 500 frames per second. And then he got a goal. Then the deeply bronzed thigh spasm worked some shadow subfloor toe-poke action that poltergeisted the ball into the netting like you need some magnetic resonance imaging to capture that detail. And the trappist monk style beer chaser to follow that single malt action was the finest of fine angled edge o’ the double bevel eye of the needle accurate to seventeen hundred decimal places thunder strike (you guessed it) deep into the netting. And then these nameless bitches who we can’t name get a couple of dodgy goals and it looks like we could just crumple into nothing and end up like those mangey lions in the Serengeti.
But we do not. Well, we don’t do no more killing. And we do look vulnerable a few times. But we survive that long hungry stretch towards the end of the 36 minutes and we can leave the building heads held high. And being humans we just head off to The Station Hotel in Footscray (thank you Tao) and Cocky eats half a kilo of beest and we drink some beer and all is right with the world.
Good. Solomon turned 4 today.
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