Anthony Malloy

And for one brief week I stand on top of the leaderboard with fellow Tiger Catboy in my footy tipping competition.

I’ll savour this moment as it has never happened before and may never happen again.

Today’s game was magnificent. Matthew Richardson’s 200th game where we came from 28 points down 10 minutes in to the second quarter to run all over Port. Last year’s wooden spooners humbling last year’s Premiers. We roared, we sang, we clapped and floated on home.

I’ve also just finished watching episode 6 of the new Doctor Who – Dalek. It was stunning and the best thing was Phee watched it clutching on to her uncle and through her fingers.

Who could ask for more?

Phee was lying in her bed reading a book. It is such a lovely day outside I thought there must be something better to do so I wandered down to the back shed, grabbed a footy and called her out.

Will I never learn?

20 minutes of kick to kick had my heart thumping and foot aching. It was with a little relief that the ball disappeared over the shed calling a halt to proceedings. I swear, I kicked it there accidentally. Truly.

Now she’s doing her handballing against the upturned trampoline. I’d better get out there, five minutes more practice and she’ll be better than me.

We’ve pretty much given up watching anything on television. The footy is on at the moment, and that’s about all we watch save for the news on week nights. Any free time we have to sit back and relax is devoted to watching what we’ve downloaded. It’s fantastic, you are only hours behind the States or UK, instead of months, an hour of television only takes 40 odd minutes and you can pause without having to invest in a PDR.

Perhaps the highlight though is watching shows we would never otherwise get the chance to watch. We’ve already seen Carnivale season 2 and we’re now working our way through Deadwood – a show equal to any I have seen but contains themes, images and language that would cause most stations (free to air or cable) to pass here. We’re working our way through season 1 now, and up to episode 6. It’s so good we’re burning the episodes to DVD so we can watch them on our television. Fortunately Nero can’t keep up with our watching so I can get some work done. We’re also watching Veronica Mars, a show so good Channel 7 would buy it and play it at 11:00pm.

I picked up my ‘Tigers and me’ photo from Tigerland yesterday.

I was so happy after having a look at it that, as I walked back through Yarra Park, a complete stranger passing by said “my, you look very happy with yourself”.

It’s off to be framed today so here’s one of the spare pictures they included as a bonus.

Click to embiggen.

(Thanks to Rae for the scan)

I don’t think so.

There’s an iPod shaped hole in my heart.

I love my iPod, it’s perhaps, after my first ever computer (the mighty Acorn Electron) the most exciting piece of technology I have ever owned. Every piece of music I have ever owned, from the CD age onwards, stored in a tiny portable device that has enough space left on it for another life time. It’s close to perfect.

Except for one thing, the battery life. I was so impressed when Cath got hers – she could listen to it all day at work and then have power to spare to take it when she walked the dog. Mine, it barely lasted past lunch and now six months later I can get only four or so hours. I know company battery times (this one is advertised as up to 12 hours) should be taken with a grain of salt but this was ridiculous.

Today I took it down to Post (don’t get me started on how ridiculous that name is) and the kindly John bundled it up in some bubble wrap and sped it on its way to iPod hospital. I should hear within a week and hopefully my baby will home within two. I wonder if I could justify to Rae buying an iPod shuffle to tide me over?

It’s taken me a couple of days to come to terms with it, but now I feel I can mention it here without bursting in to tears. There was a great loss that occurred on the weekend.

I can’t find my favourite pen.

Oh, you thought I may mention the Tiger’s humiliation at the hands of St Kilda on Sunday evening? The one where my mum came down to the game so Rob and I were forced to stay to the bitter end? No. I’m not going to be ready to talk about that one for a very long time to come.

It’s footy day today, Tigers v Saints. Mum has come down for the weekend to go to the game and already we’ve decided it’s probably best if we don’t sit next to each other, Rob will have to be the no man’s land between us today if we’re both to make it home alive. Mum is a passionate Saints supporter and won’t hear a word said against her boys so one comment about their thuggish nature on the ground and my allowance of little cakes is cut to nil. She’s tough at the footy is my mum.

I’m not feeling confident today (what’s new, I hear those who’ve gone to the footy with me cry). But I have good reason. The Doggies won last night and it’s a very very rare weekend that both Rae and I are happy about the result.

What idiot thinks throwing a lit cigarette butt our his window is an okay sort of thing to do?

This idiot.

He should be expecting a letter from out friends at the EPA any day now.