Dean runs onto the field much earlier than usual.
Dill.
I hate the Manly bus department. Theyre always poaching our best and brightest bus drivers. Drivers that were nurtured and given their chance at the transport big time by good, hard working bus companies in Western Sydney Depots, only for the likes of north shore companies to throw massive amounts of money at them. And what are we left with? Maybe a few experienced drivers here and there, but for the most part, drivers who are still on their heavy vehicle L-plates.
Sadly we cant do much about it. Manly have all the money and of course, the life style. They have the sun, the surf and the pleasure of driving down the street without a weapon pointing in their direction. People think that the great Buddy Coles walked away from Penrith simply because of money. I have it on good authority that the Mount Druitt night rider was the main reason he jumped ship, or rather bus.
Its about time the state government helped us out in the finance department. Drivers need more incentive to stay on dangerous routes. Or maybe, just maybe, we need some kind of cap, a salary cap if you will, a cap that will level the playing field and put an end to the rich bus departments throwing massive amounts of money in the air. Maybe then, all the working class depots will be able to keep the up and comers like Tyson stick shift McLennan and Derrick double decker Harrower.
The problem with a salary cap of course, is the preppy city rail executives. If we cant pay drivers an amount which reflects their particular talents, you can
bet your life savings that the railcorp vultures will swoop. Theyve been waiting for a moment of weakness in the bus department ranks since Daily Route Messenger defected in 1908. And if this isnt bad enough, rumour has it that the French transport ministry are set to throw even more money at our fellas. They dont even know what a contract is over there. The frogs work under a stay as long as you want system. Its crazy, how can we compete with that.
Pretty soon, Ill have to start driving myself to work, because our beloved bus service will be dead or relocated to the Central Coast where theyre crying out for a decent transport system.
<Time and Space Folds>
Okay, now that Ive completed the trans-dimensional jump from parallel universe number 64325162, and stopped asking for Ted the bus drivers autograph, I can settle down to my regular prime dimensional routine of going to the footy, cheering for the Parramatta Eels, and writing sub par articles about the game I love.
So where was I before my inter-dimensional slip? Oh yeah, Sonny Bill.
Is the salary cap a restraint of trade? Is it wrong for us to criticise a rugby league superstar simply because he wants a better job and a better pay packet? Probably, but I dont care. I really dont care and the majority of rugby league supporters dont care either.
Whats that Sonny Bill? Why? Well for one, every single supporter of this great game has placed an emotional investment in the game. We feel like crying when our team loses a grand final, we feel like crying when our team wins a grand final. In fact we dont even say it like this. The correct phrase would be we feel like crying when WE lose a grand final, we feel like crying when WE win a grand final'. The game is more than a spectator sport to us, it is part of our daily routine which builds and builds until the eventual climax at the end of our week. And then we start again.
So please Sonny Bill, please dont try to justify your actions by comparing yourself to working class professionals who are looking for a quicker way to pay off their mortgages. We dont care if Ted the bus driver walks away from his daily route to work for a rival competitor, we dont sweat on his performance every week the way we do with you and the rest of your mates who get paid to do what is essentially a hobby.
What you should have said Sonny Bill is this: I did it for the money and I was sick of the Bulldogs. At least then you would have been greedy and disloyal, and not greedy, disloyal and full of
well, you know what.
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749 words.
