AFL Withdrawal
May 9th 2008 04:07
Alarm. Snooze. Alarm. Snooze. Alarm. Yawn. Stretch. Minimum clothing to go outside. Tip-toes. Newspaper. Nod to neighbours. Skip inside. Pour cereal. Check date on milk. All clear. Struggle with newspaper plastic. Briefly skim headlines. Skip to sports.
It's Friday, the uni student's day off (unless you chose Science or Med. Fools!), and the ritual is so drilled in me I could do it asleep. The teams are out today, as well as all the predictions, which is something that interests me again now that the Hawks are doing well. Briefly noting the main political or environmental happenings, I extract the sport section for more important issues. I quickly turn to the middle page.
Shock. Confusion! Breaths quicken. Hairs on neck stand to attention. Pulse accelerating. Pupils widen. Eyebrows raise. Eyes dart. Muscles shake. Thoughts race.
What's this? No teams?? Is this some sort of evil trick? Who will take Franklin? Who will I tip? How will I know who to drop from my dream team?! And then it dawns on me that, of course, this is the week off. That dreaded weekend with nothing in place to give me my sporting fix or stop me studying. Will I survive until next weekend?
Lips clench. Eyebrows narrow. Sigh. Contemplate. Weigh up pros and cons. Rub chin.
I will be going to the tribute match, and we will be watching the theoretical match of the milennium. And we might even get to see Scarlett on Franklin, something we thought we'd have to wait for months to see. But... only one game all weekend? No premiership points?
Acceptance.
It's Friday, the uni student's day off (unless you chose Science or Med. Fools!), and the ritual is so drilled in me I could do it asleep. The teams are out today, as well as all the predictions, which is something that interests me again now that the Hawks are doing well. Briefly noting the main political or environmental happenings, I extract the sport section for more important issues. I quickly turn to the middle page.
Shock. Confusion! Breaths quicken. Hairs on neck stand to attention. Pulse accelerating. Pupils widen. Eyebrows raise. Eyes dart. Muscles shake. Thoughts race.
What's this? No teams?? Is this some sort of evil trick? Who will take Franklin? Who will I tip? How will I know who to drop from my dream team?! And then it dawns on me that, of course, this is the week off. That dreaded weekend with nothing in place to give me my sporting fix or stop me studying. Will I survive until next weekend?
Lips clench. Eyebrows narrow. Sigh. Contemplate. Weigh up pros and cons. Rub chin.
I will be going to the tribute match, and we will be watching the theoretical match of the milennium. And we might even get to see Scarlett on Franklin, something we thought we'd have to wait for months to see. But... only one game all weekend? No premiership points?
Acceptance.
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