4-7 v Real Madredful – 6pm Wesley
CB, DC(3,mom), GF(1), CG, RH, TW – supporters OTG, PTG, SB

All the talk was of Preston this week. From my perspective it was all to do with an ill fated house purchasing scenario just south of Bell St, what a freakin’ nightmare. From the Captain’s perspective it was all about Hoddle Street/Punt Road and how we might avoid the weekly monoxide nightmare it has come to represent. Apparently they have spare places in a Preston comp on a Thursday … we’ll see. I for one am up for it but I do harbour grave fears for the structural integrity of the Nannas™ if we were to attempt a move. Morale is low, commitment is lower, the thursday night impromptu has not been see in the wild for a very, very  long time. A move at this point could prove disastrous.  On the other hand it could be just what the brown brothers need to kick start that old  joie de vivre that is so sorely missing… perhaps we should put it to the voter®… or a forum poll perhaps.

The 6 o’clock game is fucker, or if you are the coach, a fister. It played absolute havoc with our transportation ( more grist for the preston mill). I met Giller and the Captain oustide Clifton hill station ( is that a first ? a pickup from PT ?) after a frisk and wriggle with the met police.  We made better than expected time on boulevard of evil and arived… wait for it… 32 mins… that’s right…32 mins early, which was odd. Visitor© and Brown© arrived a little closer to kickoff but no sign of teh Nannas whose names stat with “Ta” so it was a Tight 5 for the first half until Bestlooking© managed to fight his way through the traffic, making us 6 for the second half. Cheezles opened the scoring with a deftly placed shot which was followed quickly by one from the author (a rather novel event) putting the brown and gold 2 ahead after about 5 mins. By half time it was 2 all and 4-7 at the final whistle. We played pretty well for the most part with some good passing, nice running and a great goal at the end (if I do say so myself) but they were killing us on the counter and had a couple of footskills too many. ah well.

The standard post 6 o’clock game full impromptu failed to materialise due to total nanna nannalyness leaving giller and the author to go to Huxtaburger for a mandate ( and full props to huxtaburger fro remembering the forgotten burger), followed by a brief tour of smith street’s artistic output, we were even planning to have a look at Alice’s opening… dirty… but then the tram arrived, so the author didn’t get to… but giller did.

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Preston #1, the one that got away…

Preston #2, the harsh graphic reality…