Sport

The Last Weekend in September

Once again, it’s that time of year when this weekend just passed, Australians gathered to yell at their televisions or went to an oval to yell at the outcome of two leading teams pitted one against another. Once a year I try to do a sporty post for people that way inclined. Don’t know if anybody here is bothered? But Hellonwheels don’t do sport. Not really interested.

When I was young, I was dragged to Little Aths, short for Little Athletics in my hometown to run sprints and other sporty things. I was pretty good at running and even high jump. I had my own technique of running hell for leather at the matt and at the last second throwing myself headfirst over the bar landing on the back of my neck in a roll. Alas, at some point my interest or skill waned. Not sure which but being dragged to this torture ceased.

Meanwhile, I’ve stated before my interest in the AFL is rather low. The grand final was this Saturday just gone. My team who shall remain nameless has not won a grand final since the mid-90’s. Shame! Shame! Just disappointing.

Alas, my interest to sit through a game even on TV is zero and the end of the season I want my team to not be on the bottom. Collingwood not to be on the top and the cup to stay in Victoria. Because I’m old school and am loyal to a time when all the teams existed in Victoria from the days of it being called the VFL.

You can get some history here…….https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Victorian_Football_League

A few years ago, a new favourite carer started on my usual Friday shift. It was halfway through the day, we realised our teams were to face-off that night. Causing me to state “That’s it! We can’t be friends no more” and we have roasted each other about it ever since.

So, repeating.

1) Carlton cannot be on the bottom.

2) Collingwood cannot be on the top.

3) And the Cup stays in Victoria with the exception of rule Number 1.

And for the last two years the Cup has ended up out of state.

Since having a new Pies friend Pies is the team mascot for Collingwood. I’ve occasionally sent the text to previously mentioned carer now friend. “Go Pies!” And have been rewarded with a row of these “🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕” Followed by an equally succinct row of these.”😭😭😭😭😭😭”

You can do your own research. It’s a serious game the only safety gear being a mouthguard.

One of my carers reports there’s a bar on Chapel Street that won’t serve a particular drink on account of a certain football team that frequent that location and those boys don’t mix well fuelled by Long Island Iced Tea.

What? You get everything here at hellonwheels.

I also revisited a childhood favourite which I haven’t revisited for about 10 years as it was not as good as I remember and that was a lunch of what my older sister fondly called “Little Boy’s!” being the classic footy franks or saveloys. Very inappropriate nickname but amusing. Good in little bread rolls with sauce, I guess it’s the same as hotdogs.

What can I say? In Australia this is how we do it. You’re welcome.

Migraines and Sports

I’ve had migraines since I was young. I don’t remember when they began, I just remember how my Mum solved them. I remember she made a furtive call to whom I didn’t know. Then she would take me on a drive, across town, out on the old freeway, down the road opposite my first primary school, down a dirt road that was a driveway, and after parking next to a building, we entered from the back into a waiting room. it had plywood panels on the walls with long coloured ribbons hanging around most of the wall space.

Apparently, my osteo was also a bull breeder that had awards, not your average osteo. He had a rather Dutch name. Upon entering a buzzer alerted the Doctor his patient had arrived and he would come in before we even sat down.

I remember the last time I went to see him; my dad had offered to take me as he had come home from work and as my Mum had been busy making dinner he volunteered to take me. He didn’t know where it was so with my migraine I directed him. I have to say, he did not trust the location for this “hocus pocus” form of medicine. I remember going inside and how uncomfortable he was. The Doctor arrived and I had to remove my T-Shirt, never does a 12-year-old girl feel so uncomfortable. a towel draped over my non-existent boobies, adjustments, massage and stretching and a payment made then back home again for the magic to settle the pain.

Forty years later, I still see a chiropractor and yesterday I told her I’d had a weeklong Walking/Talking migraine which is my regular these days, it’s just enough to annoy me but not enough to cripple me so I can ignore adulting and responsibilities and just go to bed.

She asked what parts of my face was I feeling it? Because I can usually narrow it down. Left eye, right eye, the thing, the thing or the other thing, this time, while lying on my back I used my hand to wave over my face. “My face! my whole fucking face! like I’ve been hit in the face with a basketball!” I’m really glad people can find humour in my pain.

I do sometimes wonder what happened to that Osteo who breeds bulls and I did about 15 years ago see someone down in Geelong that turned out to be the nephew with the same surname. What a tiny world we live in. It does weirdly help.