Saturday 23 February 2008

Pre-Season Fever

Ever since I fell into this damned sporting escapade, after being blissfully ignorant of sports for the first seven years of my life, nothing has summed up what off-season feels like better than Apocalypse Now,


Saigon... shit; I'm still only in Saigon... Every time I think I'm gonna wake up back in the jungle. When I was home after my first tour, it was worse. I'd wake up and there'd be nothing. I hardly said a word to my wife, until I said "yes" to a divorce. When I was here, I wanted to be there; when I was there, all I could think of was getting back into the jungle. I'm here a week now... waiting for a mission... getting softer; every minute I stay in this room, I get weaker, and every minute Charlie squats in the bush, he gets stronger. Each time I looked around, the walls moved in a little tighter.

Sad isn't it? Even coming off the back of our own Vietnam-esque disaster of campaign last season, there was nothing that I wanted more - even ten minutes after the final siren of that Round 22 abortion against Carlton - than the bounce of Round 1, 2008.

The TSP Verdict
Best Case Scenario: 6th
Worst Case Scenario: 15th
Most Likely Scenario: 10th

Over to the good Colonel for some final words on the upcoming season,
The horror... the horror...

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