It'll be my first year in a team without my son Joe for awhile. He's busy at university. I wonder if anyone will pass me the ball? Joe was always good for a defence-splitting pass, leaving me one-on-one with the goalkeeper, wondering what the hell to do next.
Occasionally , it worked a treat.
There were only nine teams in the league and yet the winners got a one hundred year old trophy that needed three people to lift it! Please note in the background, drab toilet block and trees without leaves. Lithgow, oh fair city.
Whereas today I experienced the delightful surrounds of Tempe, watching the planes swoop low during those boring moments of the game. A good trial hit-out. Yes, we won 12-1. Oh, okay, I got four goals, but that's enough of gloating.
What was a sheer joy was the whole ninety minutes was played without any referee - just twenty-two blokes huffing and puffing and calling fouls on themselves. Congrats to the players from Hurlstone Park Wanderers. And Lokomotiv.