cjwalkley
Premiership Player
- Joined
- Jan 25, 2002
- Posts
- 3,168
- Reaction score
- 211
- Location
- East Melbourne
- AFL Club
- Brisbane Lions
- Other Teams
- Cincinnati Bengals
I thought I needed to confess something to all my fellow Lions fans.....
I didn't get to the Lions game on Saturday night. I wasn't there to see Lynchy's 300th. I wasn't there to watch the Pies get absolutely smashed again. I wasn't there to watch one of the best quarters of football this year.
I was at a wedding. Not even a close relative, but my girlfriend's cousin whom I see once a year.
But that is not my confession.
As soon as I sat down in the church, I saw him. He had aged a little, but I could never forget that smarmy grin. I would remember that moustache anywhere. (It is true, never trust a man with a moustache!) It is a face I hate with a passion.
Yes, Ross Oakley was at the wedding.
As the night progressed and the free beer started to kick in, I knew it was my responsibility for all to at least make this person pay for the trauma he had caused. Not even the transistor I had glued to my ear, conveying the sweet sounds of the Lions victory, could sway me.
I saw my opportunity, he placed his overcoat and blue and white polka dot scarf on the coat rack. I knew now was the time to make my move. So while the DJ started pumping out yet another terrible song and the club murdering individual headed to the dance floor, I seized my opportunity. I grabbed the first thing I saw on the table, a tub full of garlic butter. I made way across to the coat rack and proceeded to empty the tub into all of the pockets in the coat. It was slimy and half melted. It reeked of garlic. It began very quickly to drip through the fabric. I felt no remorse, I felt satisfaction. Although I am happy with how things have worked out for the Lions, I can never forgive Oakley for what he did. I needed to strike my own little blow for all those Fitzroy fans that have never been able to.
I didn't get to the Lions game on Saturday night. I wasn't there to see Lynchy's 300th. I wasn't there to watch the Pies get absolutely smashed again. I wasn't there to watch one of the best quarters of football this year.
I was at a wedding. Not even a close relative, but my girlfriend's cousin whom I see once a year.
But that is not my confession.
As soon as I sat down in the church, I saw him. He had aged a little, but I could never forget that smarmy grin. I would remember that moustache anywhere. (It is true, never trust a man with a moustache!) It is a face I hate with a passion.
Yes, Ross Oakley was at the wedding.
As the night progressed and the free beer started to kick in, I knew it was my responsibility for all to at least make this person pay for the trauma he had caused. Not even the transistor I had glued to my ear, conveying the sweet sounds of the Lions victory, could sway me.
I saw my opportunity, he placed his overcoat and blue and white polka dot scarf on the coat rack. I knew now was the time to make my move. So while the DJ started pumping out yet another terrible song and the club murdering individual headed to the dance floor, I seized my opportunity. I grabbed the first thing I saw on the table, a tub full of garlic butter. I made way across to the coat rack and proceeded to empty the tub into all of the pockets in the coat. It was slimy and half melted. It reeked of garlic. It began very quickly to drip through the fabric. I felt no remorse, I felt satisfaction. Although I am happy with how things have worked out for the Lions, I can never forgive Oakley for what he did. I needed to strike my own little blow for all those Fitzroy fans that have never been able to.
