Materazzi, Millane, Pedro And Me

I love Marco Materazzi. He has Darren Millane's skill and balls, Craig Kelly's niggle and my very own good looks. Actually he does remind me a lot of myself on the football field.

Opposition crowds loved me. They would make interesting observations about my long hair while I would answer by taking out their lairish players, not for a pleasant night of pasta and an Italian short film, but by a late bump or a tad stronger than needed tackle.

My first "hit" was served in the final round of the under 12's Sydney football season. We, Forest Lions, were up against glamour and money club, St Ives. Can't quite remember his name but I think he was of South American origin (We'll call him Pedro), was cutting us up through the centre. At half time the coach took me aside.

"Glenny, I need you to sort this Pedro guy out. He's being too much of a lair. I want you to niggle him just like you did to that St George kid last week. Give him the sh1ts. Tackle him hard."

I did exactly that. Seven minutes intot he quarter I tackled Pedro so hard to the ground, I broke the poor kid's right arm. Legally, of course.

A proud moment.

We got beaten by the same team in the preliminary final by two points.

The next week, word had spread around the competition about my tackle. We were up against Pittwater and I tackled one of their stars. This wasn't premeditated. It wasn't even a hard tackle but, in front of the opposition crowd, he pinned me to the ground and started punching. Somehow I managed to flip and defend.

The umpire pulled us apart and announced mine was a fair tackle and sent the Pittwater player off. I announced the Pittwater player was a c*nt and I was sent off. The opposition fans and I then exchanged pleasantries.

Dad didn't see too much of it because he was goal umpiring up the other end. Mum missed it completely because as the club's Social Secretary, she was busy running a cake stall when it happened.

I'd love to sample Marco Materazzi's mum's cakes. I've heard her tiramisu is to die for.

Old People Are Ace!

Sitting in the rain watching the Pies being killed reminded me of the olden days at VFL Park.

Glorious.

It's comforting to wallow in the muck knowing Terry Wallace's dirty Tigers will only win one or two more games for the rest of the year. Such things never change. And surely Collingwood won't put on another effort like that in my lifetime.

Why am I so relaxed about yesterday's poo?

Two beautiful acts.

Act 1. Tom Hafey's 774 radio interview before the game. Tom loves reunions. He was talking up how he puts on an annual barbeque for all the 131 players he's ever coached. Tom lives for reunions. A couple of months ago he was invited to Denis Banks' house for dinner. Reckons it was one of the proudest nights in his life because Denis has grown to become such a marvellous person. Tom lives for this stuff. Then he tells us how he calls Peter Daicos fortnightly and that Daics is one of the most fantastic people you can meet. Agreed, Tom. He also loves it when players invite him to their weddings. What a nice bloke.

You're invited to my wedding, Tommy. First I gotta meet some girly up for it but when I do you're first on my list.

My next invite will go to the lady who made Act 2 so special. Half time in the Buntyn Dining Room, me and my usual bunch of irregulars are sitting at a table, gobsmacked at the Pies' rubbish first half. Not much going on until an ancient lady from the table next to us, wearing Swans and Pies colours OFFERS US HER TABLE'S BIG PLATE OF PARTY PIES AND SAUSAGE ROLLS! Her family weren't up for them and she didn't want them to go wasted.

Shocked and charmed, we couldn't refuse.

A few minutes later after the pies were demolished (the Pies we'd come to see were demolished a quarter and a half earlier), the Sydney/Collingwood supporting (yes, who cares) ancient lady GAVE US HER SCONES, JAM AND CREAM!

What a delightful lady!