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    Thursday, 3 July 2008

    Being (Ironically) Awesome is Awesome

    NRL. Football. The Game of Champions. Gladiatorial Warfare. Where men are men and women are spectators. Nothing excites me more than NRL and football season is truly a time of wonder and joy in my life. The fights, the tights, the kicks and chips and above all, thirty really big, sweaty men hugging and humping each other in an effort to touch each other's balls (sorry, too obvious I know, but I just couldn't resist!).

    Oh wait, no I don't. Do I? Let me give it some more thought. Nope...... definitely not, as it turns out. I realise that stocks in my masculinity are going to plummet after saying this, but I really get nothing out of watching an NRL game. I won't say I've NEVER found one exciting but as a general rule, I tend to find the games a bit repetitive and dull.

    So why, then, am I doin' the blog thang and talking about NRL? Well, it's like this: The majority of (male) teachers at my school love a bit of footy and set up a Footy tipping competition for this season. I was asked to join and thought that I'd better, being the uber masculine, Rambo-esque, gun-totin', car-lovin', boobs man that I am.

    When the MEN come to school on Monday and engage me in post-game match analysis, I stare blankly at them and nod, laugh and mutter generic words of agreement and platitude (as required). I just don't have the heart to tell them that I have no idea what they're talking about. I hardly know what the positions are, let alone how many tries Diesel Tightpants scored in the second half. Oh, that's a great name. File that away for later!

    The reason I don't have the heart to break this news to my fellow tipsters is because I am, as it turns out, ironically awesome at football tipping. Against all reason and probability, I am currently sitting in 2nd place in the tipping competition, one off the lead. Word on the street is that I may just take it home. They ask me how I pick my winners. I change the subject. Should I tell them that I use divination? That I read the entrails of small birds, soothsayer style? Witchcraft? The power of prophecy? Dumb luck?

    I'm not sure that any of those responses would make the boys particularly happy. So it will have to be our little secret for the time being.

    The real irony is that if I actually cared about NRL or winning the competition at all, I probably wouldn't be doing half as well as I am. It's awesome to be (ironically) awesome at footy tipping.

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