No ticket no worries
I lived in Melbourne for the first seventeen years of my life and never went to a grand final. I did attend the MCG on grand final day from 1978 to 1980, but that was to line the boundary with hundreds of other little league kids and let helium balloons fly.
After that duty, the kids were herded off the ground and into tents outside the MCG for a pie and a Big M.
Eagles do eat Roo meat
During the build up to the second preliminary final, a mate sent me a text questioning North Melbourne’s September victories. Roos super lucky. Tigers super soft. Swans super depleted. Eagles super spanking?
My response, perhaps affected by beer and the euphoria of victory over Sydney, was juvenile and incorrect. Sshh. Not super lucky. Good enough to win. Eagles don’t eat roo meat.
