I can see the headlines now, Sandilands out for season after slipping on a spilled Latte on the Freo Coffe strip, Titanium ribs re-puncture lung"
Damn medical science and their experiments, what ever happened to a big boofy bloke with a jar of liniment oil and some Elastoplast. Couple him with a property manger who doubled as the orange slicer and runner and you had a football club that was all things to all men.
Has anyone even bothered to squeeze the magic sponge over Bennells calf? I tell you there was nothing that would revive you faster than a sponge, from a bucket of brown water that had been used on countless other teammates, legs, armpits, necks and groin injuries. Hygiene I hear you say? BAH! None of these nancy boys playing now probably even has a beer in the shower after the game, before chucking your gear in the boot of your Torana and dropping a burnout through the memorial gates of the local oval on the way to the pub. These ancient and magical arts of the footy world are being lost and I for one say Booo to that.
