About 15 weeks ago I came back to Whites Hill to play div 2 touch. My teammates were a bunch of lads from the 90s. Born in the 90s that is. Yet this group of guys were the best fun to play with. There was not a selfish bone in their bodies. They worked hard. They listened to our supercoach, the best touch player in the world, nathan jones. So halfway through the year, we had had one draw and four or five wins. We were looking pretty good for finals and the boys laughlingly suggested that if we won the grand final I'd have to shave off my Kram from Spiderbait beard I had been cultivating.
Despite being quite attached to my bushy growth, I jumped on the idea. As each week went by and the wins piled up, they grew more cocky, they wanted more. They wanted my long flowing locks too! They tried to renegotiate the deal and we came to the agreement that if I got player of the final I'd shave my head as well. It was a pretty safe bet. If some of those boys keep developing and playing like they are now I am certain representative teams will follow.
I was right too, we won the final convincingly and I played ok and scored a few tries but our young guys tore the other team up. I ended up with nothing but a cold beer and a hitler mustache and the best feeling I've ever had after a full season of touch.
I trained harder this year than I have in ten or so years. I wanted to make sure I could keep up and be fit enough to show a bit of leadership. Our captain was in NZ for a funeral and I was stoked to get to skipper the side in the final. What a season.
Thanks boys. Thanks Nath.
Lantanaland from the iPhone