PICTURE this typical scene that springs up across the country at this time of year...
I hate cigarettes. I don?t just dislike them ? I loathe them. You know how much you used to hate Manly? You now how much you personally hate Phil Gould and how much you despise his Roosters at this very minute? Well? that?s how much I loathe cigarettes. Yet amidst these cancerous, cantankerous life sucking cretins called ciggies, I do, somewhere down in the recesses of my heart, have a soft spot for the humble fag. And the reason can be summed up in two words - Rothmans and Winfield.
I love getting Hayfever. I love taking a stroll in the morning and being unable to smell the freshly bloomed flowers because my nose is too blocked to do anything. I love the fact that the same nose will soon become red and runny after I blow my way through an entire box of Kleenex tissues in a single day. I love the way my eyes fill up with water any time I walk past a recently mown patch of grass. And I love getting that itchy feeling at the back of my throat which makes me pull all sorts of weird and wonderful faces in between my endless bouts of sneezing.
IN early March of this year I was reasonably clear in understanding what I wanted from football in Season 2003. That was for the Parramatta Eels to win the Premiership. Come the second last week of September it is patently clear that the Parramatta Eels are not going to win the Premiership. I think I truly realised this when I looked in the Big League magazine this week and notices that they hadn?t included a playing list for the Parramatta Eels. Put simply, no matter how hard I try to deny it, they aren?t taking any further part in the competition.