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August 01, 2006
Thanks For The Porn
I cringed as I set my alarm for 3:30am. Why would you want to wake up that early on a Sunday morning? As I drove back from Canberra that very night I knew why I didn’t, but 5 weeks without seeing a game of football can do strange things to you.
A spur of the moment phone call from my mate Elvis early in the week and a spontaneous answer had me lined up for a road trip to Canberra to watch Geelong keep their finals dream alive against the ‘Roos at Manuka on Sunday.
A pissweak excuse got me off work on Sunday and it was settled, Elvis, The Kolonel, Sammy D and Hector the bad news bear were to venture 8 hours to the nations capital to answer the question on the lips of many; could the Cats keep their 2006 dream alive?
It turned out I didn’t need my alarm. The body clock was working beautifully and I awoke at 3:28am, threw on some clothes, KKK Shirt included, and ventured into the dark to wait the arrival of Elvis.
Elvis rocked up about 3:50 in, quite appropriately, a black ford territory. Hopefully we weren’t to have the same problems as Gary Ablett Jnr did with his just a few weeks prior.
We then rolled over to the pad of one Sammy D in south Geelong, who staggered out and begrudgingly plonked himself in the backseat of the car. Maybe it was the time, maybe it was the fear of the Kolonel listening to Oasis for the majority of the 16 hour trip, I don’t know. Or maybe he was smarter than he looks and had an inkling about what lie ahead in Canberra.
On our way out of Geelong we drove past KFC in town, which at 4am in the morning is a hub of activity and vomit. It seemed tonight was no exception with the queue reaching out the door. It did cross our mind to pick up a few drunkens to spice the trip up and share the petrol costs, but we decided it was much safer if we kept the trip to the original quartet.
Predictably, the roads were very quiet which allowed us to veer and swerve as we pleased, reaching speeds in excess of 200km/h (only joking mum!). 3 of us were very excited about what lay ahead, who would Riccardi play for? Is McCarthy up to it? And possibly the question that loomed large most of they journey, would the Chant guy be there?
Having faith in the chant guy like I did, I knew he would be there, quite possibly already chanting behind a set of goals despite it being about 5:30am. He guy is a nut case. He would need every strand of shoulder hair to keep him warm this week, as the predicted forecast was about 13.
With a trunk full of fruit we crossed the border made our first stop in Albury at about 7:30am. We chatted with a few drunk guys at the Macca’s who said they were Geelong supporters. Mind you I think they would’ve barracked for whoever we were heading to Canberra to see. It was a bit scary to see them drive off as they didn’t have all their devices about them.
By now the sun was rising and the day was looking magnificent. Our next stop was to be at Holbrook, the home of Henry Playfair. Despite there not being a water tower with his name on it as we entered, there were certainly a lot of submarines, and being the one for famous landmarks, Hector got a nice snap with one, which gave me and Sammy D some time to have a quick kick of the footy.
Despite it being 8:30am, Holbrook resembled a Ghost Town. Apart from some old bum who shouted out ‘Go Kangas’ as he drove past, we didn’t see a single soul. I also raised the question why this town was so infatuated with Subs given it was at least a 4 hour drive to the nearest Ocean.
Given yesterday’s VFL performance, I was keen to talk up the prospect of our great leader Mr Kent Kinglsey returning to the fray next week, should McCarthy have a poor game that afternoon. None of us spoke to fondly of Macca and his stocks only continued to fall as the day went on.
VFL chat did take up a lot of the trip, with many ideas of what to do over the next few weeks to continue our finals surge. Sammy D liked the idea of Blake in the side rather than McCarthy, Elvis wanted Prismall in the line-up, like many other Geelong fans and Hector didn’t say a helluva lot.
He did however have a lovely snap of himself at ‘Dog on Tuckerbox’ a famous landmark that I have never heard of. They had the darkest toilets there, in which I literally could not see shit.
After stopping at Gundagai to pay respect to Dog on Tuckerbox, we headed through the arrogantly named ‘Coolac’, a cooler version of Colac. Their tennis courts resembled and overgrown vegetable patch so it was assumed by Elvis that ‘The Scud’ must’ve been their last tennis export and they had resultantly given up trying. A good idea.
We had now been driving for about 6 hours and anticipation was hitting fever pitch as we swapped asphalt roads for concrete, a sure sign we were in foreign, less intelligent territory.
One thing that was evident was the amount of dead Kangaroos on the side of the road as we moved closer to Canberra. No doubt the Chant Guy had been here only hours before with his rifle, doing his best to disturb the locals. He is obviously a good shot.
Elvis got a call from friends he was meeting, one who was named Howard. We all got excited as we hoped we might be sitting next to Johnny. But as the afternoon panned out, we were treated too much better entertainment than that.
After holding up traffic for a little while to get our tickets of Elvis’s sister, we headed to the car park, and wandered into Manuka Oval. Having not seen the ground before, we were suitably impressed with the facilities, although with only 40 minutes before the bounce, we were surprised at the small crowd that was in the ground.
We took out seats on the 50 towards the right of screen (for those of you playing at home). The Chant Guy, as predicted was there and already painting Canberra navy blue and white in his typical charismatic way. For Sammy d and I, this was our virgin interstate voyage, whilst Elvis had been three times, all without seeing a Geelong win.
The stage was set for the Cats to keep their finals dream alive and give us all reason for taking the effort to head to Canberra.
Mind you, 10 minutes into the game as we all felt sick with regret. The Cats were as horrible as the Coolac tennis courts and played as if they’d rather be back at Dog on tuckerbox. I will not go into many details, as Sammy D shall give a match report, and I can’t really be assed. The game took the shine off a rather enjoyable trip. At half time Sammy D and I ventured outside for a kick only to realise the Players change rooms were glass, and we could see them doing their warm downs, a great chance for some photos. We then decided what would a trip to Canberra be without a few snaps of the Chant guy? I know these will interest the ladies more than anyone, but Gents, have a gawk at those shoulders! That’s how to turn the ladies on.
When we returned from our papparazing, Elvis informed us we had spent the entire first half sitting next to Brad Ottens mum. It was just a good thing I hadn’t been drinking!! Mind you, Mrs Ottens had been doing more than enough for all of us, saying the only way she could get through a game was to get drunk!
Every time Brad kicked a goal, she would reach for her hipflask and top up her bottle of coke. Lucky for her Brad had an off day with his kicking. The second half continued much like the first, with too many chances being wasted to mount a serious charge at the Roos.
In the last quarter, a few Geelong supporters near the Chant Guy held up a sign that said ‘Thanks for the Porn’. If you are reading this blog, thankyou for making my day! That is the funniest sign I have seen at the footy.
The final siren was greeted warmly, as we got to head onto the oval and have a kick of the footy. Being a renowned set shot for goal, it didn’t take the Kolonel long to get the Johnny Barker swing happening against the breeze and begin dobbing them from all angles. My tally was 5 goals 2, with 4 kids injured and one drunk guy not even realising I had clobbered him in the side of the face.
On the way back to the car, we saw Mrs Ottens and her friend heading back to the car, and Mrs Ottens jump in the driver’s seat! We mused that this wasn’t a very good idea, but a quick stop off at the porno shop, and fireworks shop took our mind off this and we were back on the road to Geelong.
After being extra careful to keep away from the swerving hire car of Mrs Ottens, we said goodbye to concrete roads, 110 speed limits and John Howard to head back to the Garden State.
More road kill on the way back suggested the Chant Guy was well ahead of us, and eventually we rolled into Geelong after midnight, much to the delight of my assbone, which is suffering from a grade 2 bruise.
Overall, our worst fears were answered; we wasted 21 hours of a day off to witness one of the more capitulary efforts of the Geelong Football Club this season. But like I said to the lads, it wouldn’t have been a road trip for Geelong fans, had they not played like that.
Next time, I’m flying.
Posted by Sammy D at August 1, 2006 03:58 PM
Comments
trunk full of fruit... lol.
Posted by: ricketts at August 6, 2006 12:03 AM
Hey Sammy D, one of my mates told me he'd seen this on a website today at the St Kilda game. Well it was me who gave you a a whole lot of others a good laugh with my sign "Thanks for the Porn". Glad you enjoyed it. It was being made in the carpark when you as it seems were already inside the ground. Well to sum up the weekend, shit game, awesome time. Pity we may not get back there for a while. Pete
Posted by: Pete at August 13, 2006 09:24 PM
Fantastic stuff Pete! Hope it was worth all the effort, because it was an absolutely brilliant sign. Made our day!
Posted by: Sammy D at August 14, 2006 11:23 AM