Monbon

Not saying it was his attitude: he obviously misread my intentions. I thought he simply doesn't wanna be Jezza when he's buying his beer and tobacco, if you get my drift. I wasn't casting 'aspersions' or perversions, ok; more of a note about how I obviously came across...😂🤣😎I loved the guy, loved watching him play.

Bumped into him at Richmond Dan Murphy one day. He looked immaculate in his suit, and I said, You are the famous Ukrainian/Russian footballer and your name is Alex... He ignored me and walked away... Very unfriendly chap, I taut to meself....

That's the mighty Alex J, who I identify with because in some circles, his nationality is given as Austrian, as some looney tunes say about me. In other words, both of us were born to Dispossessed refugees who happened to be living in a refugee camp at the time. I said to one Priest who said, You're not German, you're Austrian. I replied, Hey, if my parents would have been refugees in Japan, would you call me Japanese? ( The White Supremacist priest in question understood what I was saying. He once told his class about the great, great benefits of living under British Colonial rule. He said, They left great infrastructure. I burst out laughing...) And, with regard to the PetCox drama, I was just curious as to the real reason why two decent blokes might blather away after a game like that.

I thought he was a human being and a bloody good cricketer: he took over the mantle of the greatest German Cricketer from me. Most human beings are 'flawed', and I'm not sure what 'Legend' means. A legend is someone invented by historical mythology.

During my taxi driving days when I was writing grate Litracha on the side - I still do - I picked up 4 ladies from Elizabeth Street entrance of Flinders St Station on a Saturday morning. They were off to Victoria Park, yep, the footy. Off we took, up Elizabeth street and I had to do a hook right hand turn at La Trobe. Traffic towards the Market was heavy, and just as the light changed to amber I set off to turn and a dude ran the light - he was hanging out for his Bratwurst at the food stall, no doubt - and subsequently blocked all traffic travelling east on La Trobe. I muttered Knuclbuckle, an f where the b now stands. We get to the Members Entrance at Victoria Park - memories floating through my brain, going to cricket practice there when I lived in Northcote, watching Collinwood gobble us alive at Victoria park, Weidemann sending Owen Zink into Alpha Centauri in his first game, in 1964, watching a Geelong v Colli Wobbler game later that year, a blind man being pushed by his friend to the front row, muttering Blind man, Blind Man, everybody standing aside to let them pass, then in the first quarter, play is on the members goal square and blind man gets up from his seat on the fence and points to the opposite goal where someone has dropped someone behind play... Anyway, the Ladies pay, and the last one to exit mumbled, Now, we aren't tipping you because you used such filthy language back in the city. I swear, my mumble began with the letter k instead of F, in other words, I did a spoonerism, and I replied: Excuse me lady, if you've got a problem with bad language I suggest you all get back in the cab because where you're going is the Colosseum of Filthy Language...

Well said. Actually, I thought his game was pretty good on Monday.

I was hoping the anti American stuff would be left out. In real life, in the world situation, nobody is a bigger critic of the USA than I am, but this has nothing to do with being American. I was simply curious about why it happened.

Isn't that called money laundering?

Does anyone have any idea what Cox was on about? Even his team mates were restraining him. Please, no comments about his origin, just maybe someone knows someone who has an inkling what it was about.

Sorrow recorded. Appreciate your insight and your reply. My mistake.

Thanks for your answer: I appreciate your honesty. And, for the record, it doesn't mean I don't value your opinion, it just helps me understand your perspective. I've followed the D's since a958 when I was 8, I am very familiar with how easy it is to form opinions about the value of players and it's only since age had mellowed me that I understand there was a lot more in the world than I could imagine: same with footy.

Geez, you guys have so many 'expectation'. I'm not trying to be an a/whole, and I ask respectfully, but have you played much footy? I emphasize, I'm just curious...

Not sure which game you were watching. He could have kicked 4 goals today, was involved in much 1st Quarter, and always a presence when the ball hit the ground. Collingwood are a first class backline team, he squeezed as much out of his opportunities as he could. It was also a game where Spargo and Chandler were simply bypassed or steamrolled by much bigger opponents. I rated Pickett's game today. He put in!!!

One of the more ridiculous posts in the history of Demonland.

6: Viney 5: Salem 4: Hunter 3: Gawn 2: Tomlinson 1: Fritsch.

I was, until Christmas 1970 when I totally bombed out in a Sub District Firsts match at Ivanhoe where John Salvado and Normie Dare's left handed speed of light brother made me look third rate, the greatest living German cricketer. I could go on about how I opened the bowling AND the batting...How I could return a ball over the stumps from the furtherest field, about how at 50, my arm turned into a noodle! And when we fielded later that day, I dropped three catches - blisters on both palms from a day's toil replacing grass with pebbles at my landlord's house - ouch ouch ouch. My brother who is 701 still plays - he was on the brink of selection for the Geriatric Ashes Tour currently taking place, 13th man or some such...

As they say, bin zick, luckily Mon is out, H, our daughter, has chucked her normal set of wobblies at me, and I've worked on my new story # 71, called The Funeral, nothing to do with 'Baked Meats' a la H.G. Wells and Mister Polly, to do with the construction of a Russian Orthodox church along Merrie Creek in the early 1990's, and have done the rounds of You Tube, settled for some Thomas Tallis - the 5 part Mass, or, Mess(e) as we call it in German, and have the mute button on watching last night's Mini match. What I have noticed about my reaction these days when I watch any footy is my sense of appreciation at the skill levels, so much so, that even when I'm watching Demons replays - I can't watch real game time any more, missed the 2021 Grand Final for this reason, due to the fact that between 1965 and 2010, I bore witness to way too many heartbreaks, yes, there were the wunderbahr moments BUT ... - when an opposition player does something remarkable, a mark, a brilliant handball etc, I find myself applauding skill. This is I believe the origin of my posting of Saints and Thugs. In other words, to watch the fearless magicians of our crazy game - which, by definition MUST be so hard to umpire - is a thing of joy and beauty. To be able to witness these wonderful achievements of skill is one of life's joys. I can relate to this as a proud father. Our daughter is and always was tall. She was inducted into Netball in year 5 or 6, had no idea about any aspect of the game, you know the scenario, friends take it up so you do and all she really had was fantastic eye to hand co-ordination - in other words, like her dad who played Sub District Firsts Cricket, Under 16 Footy where he kicked 2 goals in a Semi, his opponent Laurie Sandilands - and her coach soon realized she would never be a defender because when the ball was in her attacking half, her eyes would wonder to everything around her. They lost every game until at the 3rd break of a game in which they were behind but playing a side also in the Hades side of the ladder, her coach - a 14 year old girl - made H the goal shooter. She netted 3, they won their first game. She played Goal Shooter for the remaining part of her short lived netball career. It culminated in a Spring Fling grand Final against Melbourne Girls Grammar. In the Grand Final between the same teams during the main season, her coach had 'rested' her at 3 quarter time because they were in front. The opposition took advantage of H's absence and came from behind and won. Fast forward to the Grand Final of Spring Fling, same teams. In the first half, H played like a teenager obsessed. She was a 14 year old goal-shooter who played in higher grades in the afternoons. The game was over at half time. H destroyed them. She was ferocious, intensity and determination all over. And, I'll add lovely, gentle sportswomanship, if her opponent slipped or fell - she would help them get up. I couldn't help but gently weep at what I had seen. And, by the way, she hated it when I praised her. Who said being a dad is easy...

No, the old Have a Bex and a lie down - an aspirin, no longer made...check one of Daisycutter's later replies on this topic...

I can't buy Bex anywhere!

Yes, the commentators claimed Mark Jackson started it. If you watch the footage, Jackson just got sick of being punched in the head every time he few for a mark, Yep, he was a clown, but that's hardly relevant to what Matthews did...

No, Cranky, they didn't incorporate their violence into their sport. Example, Soccer, Fussball... Golf, Tennis, Two Up,

He's been replaced by Cam brown. Ayres, by the way, was no saint. Just watch how he and Langford punched Jackson in the head every time he went for a mark in the infamous Mathews/Bruhns match. I was standing on Camberwell railway station listening to it on my Tranni - it meant something else in them days - and they blamed Jackson for the whole shemozzle. However, if you watch the preceding ten minutes or so, you see Geelong attack, Jackson flies, Langford and Ayres behind him punching the back of his head every time. Jackson at first looked at the umpire pleading for justice, then took 'the law' into his own hands and struck back. As usual, the victim became the so-called aggressor. ( I actually have met Gary a few times - he took my job when I left Dorado Wines as a rep in 1984 courtesy of the invitation to leave by the owners. He subsequently bought a Fine Wine Outlet in Middle Park with his Bro and I tried to sell wine to him. A really nice, humble bloke...)

Nah - he was talking about the culture/nation which produced AFL footy.