Every morning when I do the commando roll out of bed and fight to get my old carcus into an upright position I give thanks to every injury I incurred on the footy field in my long but not illustrious career.
My 'wounds and injury' list is long and lengthy.
ankles, knees, knees and kness, throw in 2 dislocated kneecaps, elbow, collarbone, nose, eyes, lost count of concussions and in my very last ever comp game I was lucky enough to score a perforated ear drum thanks to a swinging forearm from a large indigenous chappy. But don't worry I got him back and a bit more.
In between that I logged up C1 and C5 fracture to my neck.
Ive pulled the hammies twice and both times were playing f**king touch footy. One of those was in mixed touch. A blockheaded frontrower thinking he was a Peachey but he ran like a Farrer. But the highlight of my limited Touch footy was getting marched just cause I threw the ball into the face of the bloke marking me followed of course by a complimentary short sharp right cross.
That touch football crowd just doesn't understand the true meaning of rouge-bee league eh lad.
