Bon Scott’s lyrical prowess never ceases to amaze me. On Wednesday night, seeking inspiration, I was assaulted by power chords through the headphones. The opening riff of AC/DC’s Sin City sliced through me.
It remains one of the most underrated, foreboding sounds in rock history. Quickly supported by a heavy bass and slamming drums, I waited for Bon.
Diamonds and dust. Poor man last, rich man first
Lamborghinis, caviar, dry martinis, Shangrila
I was rockin. I found my inspiration…
Bon’s mythical Sin City doesn’t migrate far from the imagination. The lyrics are filled with clichés. Bon’s existence in Sin City wasn’t one of desperation or poverty.
On Friday I fly to Melbourne to watch North Melbourne play Carlton at Docklands. The result will be diamonds or dust. I’ll feel rich or poor when the game is over. Listening to Bon, I was overcome by football lust.
I got a burnin feeling, deep inside of me
It’s a yearnin but I’m gonna set it free
I’m goin in to Sin City
I’m gonna win in Sin City
Melbourne isn’t known as Sin City, but no one needs to look hard to find the sins. I don’t want to find any sins at Docklands on Friday night. North should win, but it is the type of game we’re prone to losing. Thankfully we play well at Docklands…
Where the lights are bright, do the town tonight
I’m gonna win, in Sin City
Let me roll ya baby
It’s been more than 20-years since I left Melbourne for Brisbane. I try to see two games in Melbourne each year, the preliminary final and grand final. The 2011 grand final was the last game I saw in Melbourne. Unemployment (thanks Campbell Newman) and knee surgery ruled me out of grand final contention in 2012 and 2013.
Now I’ve got a job. I’m running free now. I want Carlton to roll over.
On Wednesday night, I chatted to Stevo, a Blues fan. He wanted to talk margins, how much Carlton would win by. I didn’t engage him. When I hung up, I thought about the ladder, how North should be 11-5. I cursed Russ for that damned curse he brought to Brisbane.
Ladders and snakes, ladders give, snakes take
Rich man poor man, beggar man thief
You ain’t got a hope in hell, that’s my belief
I should’ve told Stevo the Blues don’t have a hope in hell. On form they don’t, but anything can happen in a game of football.
I hope I’m a rich man at three quarter time. I don’t want to be begging for goals in the last quarter. And the ladder will give its love if North wins. If we don’t, the snake oil salesman and his minions will take.
Fingers Freddy, Diamond Jim, they’re getting ready
Look out I’m coming in
So spin that wheel, cut that pack
And roll those loaded dice
Bring on the dancin girls and put the champagne on ice
I’m goin in to Sin City
Fingers Freddy is Brad Scott. Diamond Jim is Mick Malthouse. It doesn’t matter Fingers is ready. It’s up to his players. North need to break the packs, spin the football and roll with their luck.
Diamond Jim, I’m coming in. Spin whatever you want in the post game interview.
If North defeats Carlton, I won’t celebrate with champagne. It’ll be a few beers. I’m coming in, a rare mid-season visit and Docklands better not become an arena of North Melbourne sins.
I’m gonna win in Sin City
Where the lights are bright, do the town tonight
I’m goin in to Sin City
Five years ago, on an extended visit to Melbourne, I drove through Oak Park, cruising slowly past the house I grew up in and checking it out. I drove down to J.P Falkner Reserve where I played junior football and cricket for Oak Park. I umpired a few games on that ground.
I got out and walked onto the oval, remembering games where I actually got a kick. I stood on the dirt covered pitch, thinking about the day when I was 12 and I won the game with a thick edge for four through the slips. I probably scored five runs that year.
Sin City, huh… Where the lights are bright.
It’s been a long time. I’m coming in…
