FRIDAY - Footy Park for Aus vs Ireland. Pre-match entertainment was an unfortunately dull Gaelic band, but fireworks appeased the crowd. Sat next to a group of stereotypical Irish - dark skinned men with piercing grey/green eyes set in craggy stubbled faces and wearing thick tan jackets, and beautiful dark haired and dark eyed women. I'm sure they enjoyed our accents as much as we did theirs.
Exciting first half with a seesawing lead and Australia 1 point clear at half time. Sadly our boys executed a perfect repeat of the week before, losing the plot after half time and in their frustration indulging in unnecessary and sometimes embarrassing roughness. The entire crowd (including shadowy figures in the corporate boxes!) put on a wild and noisy mexican wave that
lapped the oval 5 or 6 times. The all-in melee right in front of us was spectacular, with benches streaming onto the field. Fortunately no real damage was done, being mostly wrestling and bravado.
In fact I was more impressed with the sporting nature of the
Australian crowd than that of the Australian players. I saw many people congratulating fellow fans decked in orange and green, and even swapped a handshake and a "good game, mate" with a few myself. Flew my Aussie flag proudly on the way out and wondering if the 2004 game in Ireland will fit in with my future travel plans.
SATURDAY - Drove 1.5 hours to Murray Bridge for a 21st. Whacked about 5kg of meat on a steaming, sizzling, spitting BBQ and then realised that none of us had a clue what we were doing.
Naturally the role of meat tamer fell to yours truly. Drawing upon experience in the corporate sector I recruited myself an executive assistant and together with a hefty dollop of luck we managed to turn out a decent meal for the masses.
Drawn to the bottle-o like flies to dung, we filled up a backpack with chinking, clinking bottles - cruisers for the ladies, and vodka and canadian club for the boys. At first the party looked pretty boring but soon the lights were out, the music was cranking and we were making regular trips to our booze stash.
I vaguely remember dirty dancing with a tall willowy redhead, followed by a long tender moment on the local football oval under a wide starry sky, with regular interruptions from my friends and hers, all similarly sozzled. Somewhere around 2am the lady felt a trifle ill (she barfed at my feet), and her friends whisked her off home, leaving me to wonder aloud "Hey, what was her name?"
Many rounds of drunken hugs and affectionate endearments later (I think I kissed the birthday girl goodbye about six times) the four of us stumbled off arm in arm, waving happily at the patrolling
cop car, for our kilometre long walk back to bed.
SUNDAY - We went out for brunch at Maccas. Behind the counter was the last thing I expected to see - my paramour of the previous night. I didn't recognise her at first in uniform. I don't know if she recognised me, but its a fair bet since I was wearing the same top, and she had done a good job of leaving a few of her branding marks on my neck the night before.
by the time my befuddled senses had scanned her name tag, she had gone into the back of the restaurant and I never saw her again. *cue poignant Casablanca music as our hero stumbles from Maccas into the glaring light of day, looking back in hopes of a last glimpse of his mysterious midnight lover*
