Black Kitty stumbles out of the Blue Bags XB, a little green around the gills and close to asphyxiation, reminding herself to never cook the guys scrambled eggs for breakfast before a game again.
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To jinx or not to jinx?
The opening riff to Smoke on the Water starts resonating from my handbag in the otherwise
quiet doctor's surgery. I fish around trying to find my mobile phone while some old duck wearing a tea cosy on her head gives me filthy looks. My
brother's self portrait photo stares back at me from the caller id window.
"Whats up?" I whisper into the phone.
"What are you whispering for?"
"Im at the quacks. Whats up?"
He never rang through the day. Mainly because he never had mobile reception in the middle of
nowhere places he worked. But also because his boss had given into the constant whining of the boys wanting to work through lunch to be able to take off early everyday. Especially in summer when they had to work through the hot Narrabri summers.
"Well," he says, "the boys and I were just talking and we were wondering if youd mind going down to the TAB and putting on a bet?"
"But arent you going to the pub after work today anyway?"
They went everyday so it wasnt an overly outrageous assumption.
"Yeah, but we want
you to bet on the Kiwis
that way well have a chance at winning the game on the weekend."
I laughed (as quietly as possible). "If you were close enough Id kick you up the butt for that."
"
Come on Sis, itd guarantee they lose! You know youre the best jinx ever!"
"Thanks brat! Now get back to work!"
I laughed and hung up on him, the old tea cosy lady gave me an extra filthy look, pointedly looked at the sign telling patients to turn off their mobiles and then went back to her Womans Day.
He was right, its a huge joke among all our friends. It doesnt matter what sport or event is happening, if I go for a team then you can almost guarantee that team will
lose. Often with outstandingly dismal efficiency. Or if its a party or wedding or some such, and Im involved, dont expect a smooth day. Even, for example, if I said planes dont just drop out of the sky, one would probably land on your head, or mine.
One of the best examples ever of my jinx ability was in 2006. I maxed out my credit card to take a little trip to Sydney for the State of Origin game. Not being familiar with the Sydney area, and not really wanting to go on my own anyway, I bought a ticket for my little brother as well. I even went and
bought him a maroons jacket and beanie to wear, as much as it sickened me. Born and
bred in NSW, Im sure he goes for
Queensland just to get a rise out of me. It was going to be fantastic.
New South Wales had never lost at Telstra stadium. Id get to rub in our win the whole way home. I had, however, failed to remember my reputation for being the
world's biggest jinx. Something that by half time I was starting to remember. By full time it was being rubbed in so bad I had Chinese burns from his mantra of, Jinx. Jinx. Jinx.
I still wince at the memory, despite it being a wonderful weekend, it was still proof that I can jinx anything. So the question of the moment was, do I stay loyal to my Green and Gold and put my hard earned money on my boys? Or do I try and fool whoever or whatever it is that rules the world of the jinx and put my money on the New Zealand team?
The answer to that really depended on who I asked. New Zealand supporters were all for me backing Australia. My Aussie friends would probably hang me by my toenails if I didnt put my money on the
Kiwis. In the end, I didnt bet on either. I didnt even get to see the game. As fate would have it I ended up in hospital and the last thing on my mind was the game.
So, the question remains. Did I beat the jinx? Or was it because at the time I didnt care who won? I guess the only way to tell is to line up at the TAB on the 3rd of June for State of Origin and test the theory one way or the other. Im sure Ill be getting another phone call around then.
*** 750 words including title. According to the official word counter***