Winning streak

by BLOODY IDIOT

It has taken ages for this footy season to unfold. It has been depressing and enlightening. It's been up and down. It's been a long time coming, but I finally won...

SOME BEER.

How silly was my mate Steve? He gave it to the Blues, he was sure, he was cocky, he was up for a bet and I was...

CONFIDENT.

I had waited. I had prayed. I had delved into the collective psych of my Tigers and I went for it. I said yes. I took the plunge. I'm not a betting man but I felt the rush and it was...

GOOD.

For 100 minutes of football I sat on the edge of my seat. A gambler's anticipation electrifying my thirst. The game was never a certainty, never in the bag, never a walkover a thrashing or thumping. I now knew what it meant to have a punt, a tipple a...

GO.

I felt like Kerry with a lonesome bookmaker in his sights. I looked around for recognition. Was I among other punters? Am I now a member of a new exclusive clique? Will I be invited into "The car park" at the Melbourne Cup? Can I eat chicken? Can I stomach champagne? Can I continue my winning...

STREAK?

Will Bloody Idiot's LUCK take him to the top of the mountain? Will LUCK take me to Bris-Vegas for the big game this Saturday? Will Bloody Idiot visit Nick Daffy so some of his LUCK can...

RUB OFF?

Who knows? My fingers are still crossed from round one and they will remain so. When you make a bet and it's for real there is always...

LUCK.

So Steve it's time to collect. It's time to drink. It's time to celebrate last weekend. Let's do it together. Let's down those beers. Let's make sure those beers are...

IMPORTED.

Rock on Footy Heads. Yours on the wing (just in front of the big punch-up)

Bloody Idiot.

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