Ahh! All is right in the world, I thought to myself as I awoke to a normal Wednesday morning. I went about my usual morning ritual – showered, shat, shaved and then opened up the laptop to peruse the latest articles and absorb the musings of the somewhat dim-witted journalists that have made a living of dragging the Essendon brand through the mud over the course of the last 3 years.
One journalist in particular, whose name shall not be mentioned (yes he/she looks similar to Lord Voldemort) has vaulted me back to life, and has prompted me to share my thoughts on the hell beast sent straight from the depths of Satan’s fiery lair itself. Disclaimer: In the interest of avoiding a defamation suit, I am going to refer to this person as a he/she and leave all further interpretation up to the reader.
He/she has a lisp that sounds like punishment when they talk. They write factually incorrect articles that show they have the intellect of a heat bead, all this coupled with a head that resembles a smashed crab. What more needs to be said? This piece of writing has been 3 years in the making. It is years of frustration, spewing out of my fingertips and into words. It is the realisation that we must draw a line in the sand and move on with what is going to be a painful year. This opinion piece does not aim to do anything other than serve as a venting space for my thoughts.
I want the good old days back. The days where I woke up on a Saturday and waited in anticipation for the red n’ black to run through the banner and subsequently through a Hawthorn midfielder. Those were the days. The days where footy was covered as if it were a game – not as some kind of trashy soap opera. Quit writing stories about a story that is very much dead. Stop offering unwelcome opinions on a sport you clearly have never played, and will never understand. Go back to Satan’s lair hell beast!