What a massive week in sport it has been for yours truly. It all started last week when a mate called me and said "Adz, I've got a spare ticket to State of Origin. Do you want to come?"
Is the Pope a catholic?...of course I was going to go.
From then on I was pumped. I told anyone who was willing to listen. Jealous workmates were seething...it was great. My first Origin at the cauldron. I couldn't wait.
When it comes to sport; it usually takes a major disaster or a death in the family for me to miss out on something. Cue Tuesday night, B grade, social basketball.
It was a game like any other, I had the ball on a string and my team-mates were playing a steady support role (or something like that), then it happened! While pulling down an authoritative rebound I landed heavily on an opponents shoe and due to the fact I was wearing $70 runners and not a pair of Nike "Air" Jordan's, equipped with ankle support, I went down like a sack of manure.
It was bad, real bad. I was writhing around like an escaped goldfish on the floor. After carrying on like a pork chop and being carried off, I knew origin was in doubt.
The next day my ankle could have secured a place on the Biggest Loser. It was ugly and hurt. I called my mate to tell him the bad news. He insisted that: I get some crutches, we'll catch a taxi, we won't have to walk very far, once I get in my seat I'd be right, we won't drink much beer and finally...I toughen up.
Stupidly I decided to go. We caught the train, which was pleasant enough, but once we hit Brissy the pain began. Getting a taxi was hopeless, so on the dodgiest set of crutches ever made, we started the 1.5km trek to Suncorp. Wearing my 1993 Qld jersey, I'd bought on holidays as a boy I was getting pats on the back by drunken cane toad fans as I hobbled down Caxton St.
"That's Queensland guts mate, coming to origin with a broken leg" was a common cry from the manic fans. I'd be lying if I didn't say it lifted me. We stopped for beer and a kebab (origin grub), then pressed on. Finally reaching the bronze statue of King Wally Lewis, I nearly cried in relief...until we realised our seats were down the opposite end of the stadium. Bugger.
To cut a long story short, we got to our seat (after hopping up 100 stairs), got to see James Blunt sing "You're Beautiful" before kick-off (I'm serious), Qld won and we made it home safely. Admittedly, I did have to stand on the train almost all the way home. A young girl offered me a seat, but I was waiting for some other young turds to do the same...I'm still waiting!
I must say, that both NSW fans and QLDers alike were extremely friendly and helpful. It warmed my heart to be honest, although one bloke went a little overboard, offering to hold my "old fella" while taking a leak - "thanks champ I'll manage".
I backed up and went through the same ordeal last night, as the Gold Coast Suns took on my team Geelong. Thanks to better planning, things were much easier. A shiny new set of crutches made it a cruise. The stadium was great, the Suns did well, it was a top night.
So I got to go to State of Origin and it lived up to some very high expectations. I saw my team tear through the hapless Suns at the shiny new Metricon Stadium. The only thing left to do, is maybe get this ankle x-rayed. It looks like I've borrowed the leg of a Sumo...What a week in sport!....Tragic!
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