by Guy Smiley

I'm a bit lost this season, to be rather intimate and honest with you. A tad aimless and missing some direction. I had, for the first 14 years or so of my burgeoning career as a spittle flecked footy supporter, something to direct my passion against. Something to vent my stupendous spleen on. Something to drag me away from these types of warmly intimate confessions best shared in some dark back alley, accompanied by the vague scent of cheap vodka and the lingering nightmare of 2 dollar shop perfume. Hence, the spleen.

I've proudly shouldered the underdog burden and argued my way into and out of more frighteningly satisfying turgid footy arguments than the dog's had... hey, the back lawn's got a lot of brown spots. I got used to it. I got good at it. No-one did underdog better than me. The bloke who wrote the original Kama Sutra rang me last year for some inside tips on the Underdog, the Double Underdog and the Double Dog no under... but a man has to keep a couple of trademarks protected, after all. I reckon I took a gentle sort of pride in being a better class of underdog than yer avridge Ooftit supporter, f'rinstance, but that's hardly something to crow about. What would that lot of slinking yellow striped badger botherers know about underdogging? I actually have to work withing phone range of a couple of Bulldog supporters, too... and you'd think that mob of mongrel punts would have an idea of the scope involved in successfully underdogging in the modern world but it looks, unsurprisingly, as if they're a serious risk to badger wellbeing as well.

Read more

Middle of a heatwave, Perth style. All of us are drawn, despite our better judgement, into commenting on the weather. The full spectrum of inanities are being tossed about with gay abandon and none of us seem to give a flying fat rat's about it. It's 'kin hot, eh?

Read more

It's that time of the year... if you bend the definition of purple a bit, and bending things a bit, like perception and the space time continuum is where it's at, folks. The jacarandas are in bloom... little splashes of purple are all over the shop like a gentle reminder of something we care about.

Read more

I dunno, it's been a funny old year so far and it's only August. Of course, in the footy fan's calender, that means the year is just about shot to bits. For mine, there doesn't appear to be that redeeming light at the end of the tunnel. I haven't blogged in due to outside influences...

Read more

I'm about to head out into a beautiful Perth autumn morning and take in the morning coffee ritual somewhere deep in the heart of Freo. Birds are singing and the gentle russets of the leaves add a glow to the morning sunlight.

I've always found this time of year to be my favourite here... the absolute heat of summer is gone but the days still get warm and the air is clear, the mornings pleasantly fresh and, in the right company, conversation sparkles with wit and humour.

Read more

It's not the end of the world, you know.

Ohhh, I know... the summer looked so promising with all sorts of tidbits emanating from Hope Central but the reality always, was that we turned over about 1/3 of our senior list.

Read more

I have to acknowledge this disaster. All week, I've been following the incoming news reports in ever increasing disbelief.

Read more

G'day and welcome back to it all, folks. We've been through the mindless searing wasteland that is the Season Without Football and, while still stranded just on the wrong side of highway, so to speak, we can almost see the Sherrin again. 

Read more

This is gonna have to be a fast blog... theoretically, I'm working. As always.

Yesterday came the news I half expected, half dreaded, half resisted. I was in a mind and a half last night, let me tell you. Having spent most of my life in two minds over any and everything, it's an improvement. If I can just get the voices to lay off for a while, I'll be on a winner. Just me and the birdsong.

Read more

Beautiful friend

This is the end

My only friend, the end

Read more