Saturday, 26 January 2013

Oh, smashing shot, Curruthers!

No interest in going to the MCG and being showered with unknown amber liquids from beer cans chucked in the air during a Mexican wave and then wondering who it was that went out while I was submersed in a sea of arms.

Much more fun to pack up a picnic and head to the local park and watch club cricket.  Doesn't matter who's playing.  I shout words of encouragement to the players of all sides, it doesn't matter, I don't know who they are and then, once the chicken and wine has run out, return home.

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