At the Chooks we had a player who played full forward and more often than not, would kick the majority of our goals each week. The problem would occur after the game when our “spearhead” would walk around the change rooms totally nude. It’s great that he felt comfortable among mates to not have any inhibitions but we as a group felt we didn’t need to have his Wang in our personal space. I took it upon myself to represent the team and let our free spirited snake handler know that he needed to pull his head in so to speak. Unfortunately he didn’t take my suggestion well and showed about as much tolerance as Mary Court towards anyone who can’t recite the book of Revelations. In the end it took a “Sam Mitchell Shepherd” to the groin the next time he was parading within Toby Green spitting distance of me for him to cover himself.


Great news for Essendon and James Hird this week as the Bombers coach was cleared of serious injuries when he fell from his bike while riding home from training. Medical reports have said Hird suffered severe concussion and has some short to mid-term amnesia, club officials say Hird has no memory of the last few years and will meet with assistant coaches and medical staff about an exciting and boundary pushing supplement program that could give Essendon an edge.


The best part about playing footy is kicking goals and for those few moments after, feeling far more superior to your teammates. Sure you trot out the clichés on presentation night when receiving the goal kicking award, “these goals wouldn’t have come without the boys help”, “I’d swap this award for a flag any day” and “This award needs to be shared with everyone who has helped me on my journey.” When really your thoughts should be; “Away from me peasants, bask in my glory,”, “Hope the netballers saw that”, and “If I had the ball delivered properly I would have kicked 150.


I share a lot in common with Boomer Harvey, cat like reflexes, volatile, hungry for a goal and have rigged a club raffle so I win the major prize(although mine was Nutribullet not a car). We champions of the game are idolised by thousands of people whose lives are inadequate in every way compared to ours.

It’s a massive effort racking up 400 games and solidifies his place in AFL folklore as a great of the game, all the praise and accolades that comes Boomers way is well deserved. I wish I had been shown the same respect when I played my 300th reserve grade game for the Chooks, there was no nickname on the Guernsey, no photo opportunity with other greats, not even a video montage of my greatest moments with Greenday’s “Time Of Our Lives” playing in the background. No, all I got was pathetic Crepe paper banner to run through, they couldn’t even get my name right, since when did I become “Welcome Back Ellie, Women’s Wheelchair Basketball Finalist”.


More than once I heard throughout the game the phrase “Barometer”. This buzz word is mainly used by lazy broadcasters who fixate on a term or word that is popular at the time and flog it like an unsupervised teenage boy. It saddens me that these “professionals” see the need for a catch phrase or gimmick, you will never catch me doing that. Now for this weeks “Sliding Doors” segment…


A mate last week kept harassing me to watch Carlton play Hawthorn on Friday night, it made me feel like when you have that person in your group who is always trying to show you disturbing YouTube clips that involve either people putting things inside them or taking things out.

 Carlton coach Jon Barker stated earlier in the week that Hawthorn were beatable, when asked how the Blues planned to do that? Barker replied, “Oh no, not by us, but someone will eventually knock them off.”


Last weekend AFL legend Wayne Carey suggested that Sam Mitchell would struggle to get a game with any of the other 17 teams. I’m pretty sure Wayne knew he had said something fairly dubious when his usual cheerleaders Ling, Cometti, Richardson and McAvaney all distanced themselves from him quicker than kids dodging dad when he rocks the joggers/jeans/tucked in shirt combo. It must have killed Bruce to not to be able to gush over “The Duck”, and I longed to hear him say things like. “You just get the feeling you may have really cocked up there Duck.” Or “What are the chances your Twitter account being bombarded with vitriol and ridicule eh?”

To The Kings credit he backtracked on his initial opinion and even called Mitchell later to clear the air. It takes a big man to admit when he is in the wrong and over the years Carey has proved he is massive, whether it be sexually harassing an innocent passerby, knocking off your best mates wife, glassing your then girlfriend or pretending to like Damien Barrett. But like any elite athlete, they have the unique ability to put one scandal behind them and move on to the next.


Dustin Martin conceded a fifty metre penalty when he squirted water from his drink bottle on an opponent, I think the umpires over officiated on this occasion and what is needed is a feel for the game. I once was given the benefit of the doubt by a wise old ump when my rival was lying motionlessly at my feet while the footy was up the other end of the ground, the easy decision would be to assume that I had caused his unconsciousness, but an umpire who understands the game would realise that a man in his late 50’s who hasn’t played in more than twenty years probably collapsed from a heart attack. Whether me punching him in the back caused that heart attack was never proven, but it caused the question to be asked at a league level why a senior citizen was playing a reserves match due to lack of player numbers in country football. I don’t want to toot my own horn but it was my irrational volcanic anger that started the conversation.