One of my strongest memories of winter afternoons when growing up is of mum listening to the footy on the radio. Now any one who knows mum will see her as a gentle cake making soul who wouldn’t say boo to a mouse. Obviously they never saw her listening to her Saints play. Her pained cries of “don’t handball it, kick it!!!!!!!” would have been heard 250 kilometres away where the game was being played. I also have no idea how the arm chair managed to survive the thumping it got as her boys lost another game.
Now, 30 odd years later I’m sitting here listening to my wife yelling “kick it Minson!!!!” as she thumps the arm of her chair.
It’s all a bit scary and disturbing if you think about it too deeply.