David Mensch
17 Jan 2002, 11:49
Hi Cat fans, Menschy here.
I want to tell you all about this bizarre dream i had the other night. It started off really bad. Geelong were in debt and had the worst player list in the league and we were favorites for the wooden spoon...oh...no... hang on a second...i'm getting confused here, scrap that. It started off with me in the bathroom at home, I was standing in front of the mirror in my Y-fronts and black socks, using the hairbrush as a michrophone and singing Jessie's Girl, by Rick Springfield, as i do every morning. Cameron Diaz was in the bedroom, lying in a state of complete sexual satisfaction. I hear a knock at the door, so i answer it and to my surprise Bert Newton is standing there. He informed me that he was the new coach of Geelong.
"But what happened to Bomber Thompson?", i asked.
"He has gone to Carlton, along with the rest of the team" he said. "They have finally managed to steal our entire organisation. The only player they didn't want was you."
"I find that very hard to believe" I said.
"Well, it's true so shut your ball washer!" Bert snapped. "Now put some clothes over that perfectly sculptured body of yours and get in the car. We have a game against the All Australian side in 10 minutes."
So i put on my gear, gave Cameron a kiss goodbye, and left the house amid her desperate pleas for me to stay with her. I went out to Bert's car, which for some reason had turned into a dog sled that had 'Slam Daddy' printed on the side. I hopped on anyway and off we went. On the way over Bert was voicing his concern about the game, paying particular attention to the 18 players against 1 factor.
"So i have to win the game on my own. Pfffft, what else is new?" I said.
"Are you having a go at me!?" said Bert, pushing out his chest.
I'd had enough. "You're dead Newton!" I yelled, and Bert and i got into a viscious shoving match. I was in the process of administering a Chinese burn when we pulled onto the members wing of the MCG. "We'll finish this later fat boy" i said. "Right now i've got a game to win"
The All Australian side took their positions on the field, whilst Chris Grant, Matty Lappin and Byron Pickett looked on from the stands in disgust. The main umpire, Bruce Samazan, bounced the ball and i casually took it out of the air with both hands, leaving Matthew Primus flabbergasted. Immediately i am tackled by seven players at once, but i shake them all off with ease and spiral a torp through the big sticks from 90 meters out.
Now here's where things start to get wierd. All of a sudden i found myself completely naked, and James Hird was desperate to tackle me, even though i was nowhere near the ball. Bert was madly yelling instructions to me from the sidelines; "Play a box zone Menschy, for GOD'S SAKE PLAY A BOX ZONE!!". I was confused, how the hell would i play a zone by myself? I turned around and there were 17 other versions of me around the ground, but they were all 1/5th of my size. I decided to call them "Mini Mensch's". We formed a huddle. The scoreboard said we were down by 5 points and there was 20 seconds left. We all agreed that it was time for some good old fashioned Mensch magic.
I wandered down to full forward, relying on the Mini Mensch's to get me the ball. One of them took the ball from the center. He was using all of my patented moves. He goosestepped past Brett Ratten, beat Nathan Buckley with the 'Shake 'n Bake', turned Ben Cousins inside out with the 'See You Later', flew past Jason Akermanis with the 'Turbo Boost', then he stumbled to the ground and was caught with the ball.
We lost the game and after i had cried for a while I decided to take the Mini Menschs out for some ice cream, but they had already left the ground in a limosine with Ricky Martin. So Bert Newton and i caught a hot air balloon to Crown casino, and met up with my Nanna at the roulette wheel. She was grumpy because she had just bet her pension check on number 31 and it landed on 18.
That's when i woke up. A fairly strange dream, i'm sure you'll agree. Some people attribute it to the bag of flour i ate before i went to bed, but i blame it on the crack pipe that i smoked earlier in the evening.
I want to tell you all about this bizarre dream i had the other night. It started off really bad. Geelong were in debt and had the worst player list in the league and we were favorites for the wooden spoon...oh...no... hang on a second...i'm getting confused here, scrap that. It started off with me in the bathroom at home, I was standing in front of the mirror in my Y-fronts and black socks, using the hairbrush as a michrophone and singing Jessie's Girl, by Rick Springfield, as i do every morning. Cameron Diaz was in the bedroom, lying in a state of complete sexual satisfaction. I hear a knock at the door, so i answer it and to my surprise Bert Newton is standing there. He informed me that he was the new coach of Geelong.
"But what happened to Bomber Thompson?", i asked.
"He has gone to Carlton, along with the rest of the team" he said. "They have finally managed to steal our entire organisation. The only player they didn't want was you."
"I find that very hard to believe" I said.
"Well, it's true so shut your ball washer!" Bert snapped. "Now put some clothes over that perfectly sculptured body of yours and get in the car. We have a game against the All Australian side in 10 minutes."
So i put on my gear, gave Cameron a kiss goodbye, and left the house amid her desperate pleas for me to stay with her. I went out to Bert's car, which for some reason had turned into a dog sled that had 'Slam Daddy' printed on the side. I hopped on anyway and off we went. On the way over Bert was voicing his concern about the game, paying particular attention to the 18 players against 1 factor.
"So i have to win the game on my own. Pfffft, what else is new?" I said.
"Are you having a go at me!?" said Bert, pushing out his chest.
I'd had enough. "You're dead Newton!" I yelled, and Bert and i got into a viscious shoving match. I was in the process of administering a Chinese burn when we pulled onto the members wing of the MCG. "We'll finish this later fat boy" i said. "Right now i've got a game to win"
The All Australian side took their positions on the field, whilst Chris Grant, Matty Lappin and Byron Pickett looked on from the stands in disgust. The main umpire, Bruce Samazan, bounced the ball and i casually took it out of the air with both hands, leaving Matthew Primus flabbergasted. Immediately i am tackled by seven players at once, but i shake them all off with ease and spiral a torp through the big sticks from 90 meters out.
Now here's where things start to get wierd. All of a sudden i found myself completely naked, and James Hird was desperate to tackle me, even though i was nowhere near the ball. Bert was madly yelling instructions to me from the sidelines; "Play a box zone Menschy, for GOD'S SAKE PLAY A BOX ZONE!!". I was confused, how the hell would i play a zone by myself? I turned around and there were 17 other versions of me around the ground, but they were all 1/5th of my size. I decided to call them "Mini Mensch's". We formed a huddle. The scoreboard said we were down by 5 points and there was 20 seconds left. We all agreed that it was time for some good old fashioned Mensch magic.
I wandered down to full forward, relying on the Mini Mensch's to get me the ball. One of them took the ball from the center. He was using all of my patented moves. He goosestepped past Brett Ratten, beat Nathan Buckley with the 'Shake 'n Bake', turned Ben Cousins inside out with the 'See You Later', flew past Jason Akermanis with the 'Turbo Boost', then he stumbled to the ground and was caught with the ball.
We lost the game and after i had cried for a while I decided to take the Mini Menschs out for some ice cream, but they had already left the ground in a limosine with Ricky Martin. So Bert Newton and i caught a hot air balloon to Crown casino, and met up with my Nanna at the roulette wheel. She was grumpy because she had just bet her pension check on number 31 and it landed on 18.
That's when i woke up. A fairly strange dream, i'm sure you'll agree. Some people attribute it to the bag of flour i ate before i went to bed, but i blame it on the crack pipe that i smoked earlier in the evening.