After our Saturday rain I was dreading going to that damp concrete bunker on Sunday. I would be much more inclined to take a bottle of grog and celebrate the demolition than anything else.
But the little tacker that sat with his Mum in front of me grew into a 21 year old over the years at Subi - he was in the Billy Walker room on Sunday sharing a drink with her when I went in. He told me this would be the last time he sees me, off to the UK for a holiday and then plans to work there. He hated Boomer growing up, I loved North games because of him yelling out 'WANKER' all the time. He's 6' 4" now (on the old scale), a great kid. I'll miss him a lot. I thanked him for growing up around me every year, shook his hand and gave him a hug after the game.
The big Maori bloke a few seats down from me only gives me a hug at the end of every season. He's prone to smuggling in sly grog in a Coke bottle, on occasion he shares it around with the rest of us - he has never been busted for it. But on occasion his seat is empty - I reckon he would've got picked up at the gate instead of missing his train. For years he had a really cute blonde girlfriend that would squizzle down the aisle to get premix drinks all the time, but she vanished and a big workmate took her place last year.
Then there's the tossers across the aisle from me - a whole set of different people that get corporate hospitality seats from Dooker Central (I think). They are almost always opposition supporters, nervous willies that hide their scarves under their overcoats until their team pulls in front. Then they're up and yodelling like Dolly Parsons with every goal scored. I'll be glad to be done with that lot - I admit to baiting them at times, sometimes mercilessly so. When we beat North earlier one of them threw a pair of sunglasses at me, I turned around and yelled out a thanks. I was intending to drop them into Lost/Found near Gate 8 (but forgot). I left them on the dash of my ute to help me remember to take them in - they turned into a Picasso sculpture one hot day when I was in Northam.
But that's about it - they change the security guard that stands at the entrance into the block occasionally. Last weekend we had a familiar face, an older fella that watches the game intently and is always good for a joke/laugh when you press him. He may be at the new stadium, but I doubt it - like many of us, maybe he's put in too many years toughing out the elements and walking home in the gloom of winter after a loss. All I know is that when he's there our Maori friend never has a problem dribbling out his bourbon into our beer cups.
