Some of you blokes may have read recently about my habit of writing things down in my notebook each day. Apparently it is the thing to do in lots of these books about How To Be A Highly Effective Somethingorother, but for me, the reasons are different. Truth is, I’ve been sconed in the head so many times lying on the pill I have trouble remembering who I am or what I’m doing most of the time, so I’ve gotta write things down. Flipping through the pages helps me remember who I am and what I’m s’posed to be doing at any given time. Anyway, some people have been pestering me about what’s inside it, so I figured I’d take a look meself.
Having people come up to me in the street and genuflecting and stuff and women saying things like “You can park your trophies under my crib anytime, big boy” helps also, but I still have to take me notebook with me. So, anyway, apparently this year has been a good year. Me and the Boys have won a coupla things along the way, although I think we lost to some blokes in white recently somewhere. I think it must have been some kind of international barbarians type thing ‘cos there were all sorts of accents and skin colours out there. One minute you’re taking an elbow from a Saffer, next some Islander’s got you by the nuts and there’s some guy sounds like a bro yelling in my ear he’s gonna take my fucking head off, so I dunno what that was about. Used to be we’d head up north to play and everyone looked the same, you just nailed the skinny white fucker, took the pill from him and gave it to Ma’a.
Never mind, I just turn up, DC helps me remember which boot goes on which foot, and I go out there and give it heaps till the ref blows his whistle and we all go take a shower. Apparently my notebook is telling me I’v gotta take a break for a few months now, so that’ll be sweet.
The notebook comes in real handy when I’m flying a plane. Once, when I loaded the Boys into a DC3 (that’s a plane, not Dan Carter’s other doppelganger) to get to Wellington ‘cos there was an earthquake or something, I left it behind and if Brad hadn’t been sitting next to me yelling “Put the fucking wheels down first!” it might have got ugly when we came in to land.
Anyway, I’d just like to encourage all you nippers out there to start kicking a footie around as soon as you can. She’s a great career. People drive you places, you get spoon fed and there’s chicks like wall paper. So maybe I’ll drop by some time again and flip through me notes for ya, let you know what’s going on here in Trophyville.Ruchie doesn’t remember telling this to Avs.