I mean it. @#$%&! the 17th! @#$%&! it, burn it and bury it somewhere dank and dark, a psyche swap so lost dinosaurs still roam. Bury it, melt the spade. give away the slag and move on.
This is the way to enjoy football, watching a team week by week play as hard as it can, each part as important as the next part, each part sacrificing for the good of the whole. This is what we have missed, what as a club we forgot, as a supporter base what we have yearned for with the unfurled hearts of spring's bubbling hope. It's not about the flag, it's never been about the flags...that's what we forgot, that's the lie flower at the club sold us so they could strut their ashen stages pretending an importance they never had.
It is about barracking for a side that turns up week after week and gives it's all, a hard side, a side with stars and talent for sure because in the end in clutch moments, or to set the scene, talent is always necessary but not the be all end all, talent wedded to teamwork, a team with the desire to win burning like lava in their veins.
What a joy this has been and I expect it now., I expect it each week, that we come out and give it our all, not for some shimmering mirage of glory, but for this week, this game, this contest., this kick, handball, smother, bump, tackle, soccer off the ground, block, gut run and so on. Do this do only this and disregard the Siren call of 17, block the ears, focus on the moment and let moments become minutes and minutes become quarters.
This is Carlton. Not a braggart sucking a cigar filled with the ask of "of look at me look at me", but a team, playing a team sport with intensity, with desire, a team locked in the moment, because only the moment matters, only the moment brings bliss when the siren sounds.
So @#$%&! the 17th! @#$%&! all the dreams and calls and flags waving like little voices calling out in the dark, @#$%&! them all.
I just want to enjoy this team in each moment, enjoy their endeavor, their will to win, their support of each other.
The past 7 weeks have been great not because of what may be but because of what is.
Go Blues!
_________________ This type of slight is alien in the more cultured part of the world - Walsh. Its up there with mad dogs, Englishmen and the midday sun!
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