Here am I supporting a footy team that never wins. It doesn’t stop me leering at the shorty shorts on lovely legs week in week out.
A sad moment finds me scanning the paper for the weekly line-up to see how my weekend perve will align with my social life. A living tragic.
Ah, at last, a change to empower the forward line. Last week, the scoring end was sensational. The 38 scoring shots were the best for weeks. Who was to know that as they left the boot, the combination of wind and rain would result in seven goals and 31 behinds? Not their finest hour.
Two of my NSW nephews have just lined up behind my Victorian ones to play the world’s finest football game, Aussie Rules.
I had my weekly fix this week, following my niece’s commiserations on Facebook about not being able to play due to injury, then listening to the northern nephews’ success stories which have so impressed their parents that Dad, at 40-something, has started playing.
“The pounds have just fallen off them all,” Nan said. (She means kilos, not having graduated to the metric system.) Making Gippsland Power’s development squad has made my southern nephew’s day, and keeps him off the street. His vocabulary now consists of his team’s name as well as ‘footy’. Teaching two new words to a teen is good, but the lad can even pronounce them properly, a feat of scholarly excellence.
It is the real fitness game. Few sports require two hours of variable paced continuous action, not to mention incredible ball skills, hand-eye and foot-eye coordination. Not many of us could run the distance without a weekend in between.
That is perhaps the major reason our once-gorgeous legs now look better in slimming jeans while our bottoms highlight the fact we sit a lot, quickly broadening to help us take full advantage of ‘tail winds’. It may be time you started on a lovely legs program. Join one of the many gay teams at QSAM.