I sat on the end of the bed, jeans n blue/black shirt donned, wondering what shoes to wear. Having made the decision I wandered over and slid open the sock draw. One stray sock stared out at me from all the neatly bundled pairs. "Fuck your lack of order" I mumbled and began foraging for it's clearly cheating partner.
It's at this point I came across something special. On my 21st birthday a mate gave me a pair of Disney themed goofy socks. He was clearly pulling the piss and for years they stayed in their cellophane. This was until a Queensland hill claimed he and his aeroplane. The Goofy socks now had some meaning. My lucky socks to be worn only on rare occasion, that they last, like his memory, for ever.
They now stared at me from the bottom of the sock draw. The decision having been made for me we were out the door.
After soaking up the final score last night, my wonderful woman looked at me and said "Those socks sure worked". But as we chatted, we both realised we'd done a number of things that could have been The Blue Teams lucky charm.
Was it remembering the flag I untangled from the stadium fence, stuck like a plastic shopping bag in the wind waiting for the sun to rot it away?
Was it the fact the the sweet woman finally agreed to let us fly the little window mount flag from Camilla Camry on the way to the contest?
Was it that we visited the Tactics Game dungeon and added ludes to our collection?
Was it that we ate delicious Indonesian in Murray st 73 minutes before kick off?
Was it that we decided to sit by the corner flag rather than behind the goals at the ground where you can usually find us?
Maybe it was just that 22 blokes played footy, with hearts like Phar Lap, for 80 odd minutes?
Game days may be a little busier in our house in future..