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Sunday, 10 March 2013

Big, boofy blokes go awwwww sarge!

I honestly don't know why people bother. First it was the Melbourne Storm and the salary cap scandal in 2011. Then there's Lance Armstrong with his concoctions and his special doctor friend, trying to get his teammates to try this stuff. Then we have the international soccer league battling allegations of fixing of matches and some shady Singaporean businessmen handling the cash. And now in Australia again the Cronulla Sharks are said to be administering horse drugs to their players to help them compete. And then the online betting companies. How many are there now? Three? Four?

The average bloke just wants to tune out for a couple of hours on a Saturday, get away from the better half's questions and requests, focus on a tiny piece of green earth with bright, painted lines on it, and a couple of dozen big, boofy blokes. And a ball. That's all. Is that too much to ask? There are probably about nine million of them in Australia, and they're just like the guy next door who wrestles with his lawn mower on a Saturday morning. He takes his daughter to netball. He fixes the leaky tap on the washing  machine. On weekdays he's a systems analyst, but on the weekend he just wants to chill out and watch some rugby league. I honestly feel sorry for the poor guy.

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