The much hackneyed phrase "A picture tells a thousand words" surely applies here.
But hey, these are the kind of scenes that are expected to happen when Melbourne suddenly aren't the powerhouse they once were...right? Wait a minute...
Even the kid from modern family in the bottom left corner seems embarrassed by the inept performance he's just witnessed, and he has to listen to Sofia Vergara shout/mangle the english language most days.
In addition to that, while we're still here, don't even dare look at the guy behind the family from the TAC ad, he will steal your soul.
Judging by this, I would not at all be surprised if Melbourne's main sponsor next year is one of those funeral insurance places I keep seeing ads for on tv.
Read on after the break.
And if you cannot endure looking exclusively at Steve Patrick Morrissey's smug face, scroll down, listen and read to what I have to say.
This song is to be treated as somewhat of a aural douche (Yes I'm being serious) for several closely-knit notions that I'll no doubt shortly struggle to get across.
Amongst these are, why I've decided to do this again with an odd unforeseen tinge of optimism. As well as hopefully some unique sprinklings of unusual thought regarding the state of play for what you may or may not also be here to read about.
Football. AFL. Aussie Rules. Yes, I'll get to it. Hopefully all within 3 minutes 14 seconds. Okay, if not, next time.
So to introduce (read: re-introduce) myself and justify my own supposed authority to be writing on this kind of subject matter. Here's some background. (Has the chorus kicked in yet?)(If not, wait a second)
So, what difference does it make ? Oh, what difference does it make ?
Oh, it makes none But now you have gone
And you must be looking very old tonight
I'm a Carlton supporter, I have been my entire life.
And when I type "My entire life" I very much mean it.
My grandmother on my father's side, a life member of Carlton,
gave my father, he played for Carlton's reserves, the unabashed gift of a navy blue and white football boot shaped piece of porcelain with "blues" on it as I exited my mother.
I also suspect around that time she was anticipating a handball recieve.
Here it is today, my birth video looking much worse for wear or wares, whichever you'd like to use.
Also here pictured on my kitchen bench with Gumby shoeing you to create a sense of scale.
So I dare say we've established I support Carlton and that there was no choice in the matter.
(Another chorus should be about now)
So, what difference does it make ? Oh, what difference does it make ?
Oh, it makes none But now you have gone And your prejudice won't keep you warm tonight
Being a supporter of a club, yet on the other hand being a "fan" can seemingly be two completely opposed concepts.
The other option is, as some in Melbourne do, regard the AFL as an absolute exercise in futility ten to eleven months of the calendar year. Just ask Sam Newman.
Which of course it can be. Much like Sam Newman's career.
That's essentially the point of this blog. No, not Sam Newman.
Some of questionable things an organization, in this case Carlton may decide to do which may or may not fly completely in the face of what seems like progress or even at times sanity.
This is also how my life has been known to work/not work. Which I'm sure I'll get to also.
In summary. It's Mabo, it's the vibe.
But no more apologies No more, no more apologies Oh, I'm too tired I'm so sick and tired And I'm feeling very sick and ill today But I'm still fond of you, oh-ho-oh
Also just to end for now on this note. If you've read this and thought so far that I have made my points above seemingly clumsily/chaotically, I'm sorry to say dear reader this is about as succinct and concise as I get.
I haven't written one of these since 2010, so there may be rust and the world and myself I admit has changed a lot since, most of which I won't even attempt to go through yet. Yet. But remain prepared and vigilant as I prepare to open my mind and tip it out onto this screen of which you read.
