Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Ooooh, I Wanted Our Boy Fanning to Win the World Title But Now I Think I'm Rooting For That Joel Fellow Again.
Guest Opinion By Goldmining Grandma Florence Tolhurst
Ever since a young Midget Farrelly set my heart on fire back in the day I've had an eye out for the surfies. My husband Walter – God rest his soul – couldn't abide the sight of 'em, so for the half-century of our holy union I've been careful not to admire these young bucks too openly or else he would get annoyed. He really would. Annoyed. My word. Yes.
Did you know my Walter always blamed that Shaun Tomson chap for his first coronary? Found some folded-up pictures of him tucked away in my sewing drawer back in '78 he did. Next thing you know we were screaming up Parramatta Road in the ambulance, with him refusing to hold my hand, muttering 'You've got some nerve, Florence' through the oxygen mask.
I never meant to hurt my husband. He was a good man. A decent man. Yes he was.
Since Walter passed though I've been free to follow the surfies on the internet to my heart's content. It's a real treat for half a dozen of us ladies in the home to sit down with a nice cup of tea and watch the surfing contests on the computer.
At my age, you might say my passion for the surfies has mellowed a little. It's more matronly concern now than when I was ... well ... you know what I mean. Here, have a toffee.
Have I told you we don't really care for the surfing out in the water awfully much? – too much sitting there, bobbing around, really, and without the most powerful of stimulants, half of us doze off after five minutes' commentary anyway.
What we absolutely adore is the interviews after they come out of the water! Such Manners! Oh, my word, such well brought-up young men!
Just when you thought gentlemen were a thing of the past.
Always going on about how great the other fellow surfs. Always so lovely and humble.
And always so sun-smart, with their little friends rushing up and handing them their caps straight away as soon as they get out of the water. You don't want melanoma now, do you. Oh no you don't. Horrible thing. Awful.
These boys give us endless things to talk about. We're always saying to eachother “My word, isn't it considerate of the other fellow's feelings when a lad says he was 'lucky to get through that heat' ”, or “That Dave Reynolds boy looks like he needs a hug” and “Ooooh, I'd like to put that Georgie Smith between two slices of bread...”
I am still a woman, after all. Feelings get stirred up.
From somewhere deep. Yes, deep.
Not that Hector Alves though. He looks like a monster in his ASP photograph. Get that beastly man away from me. Mercy!
I've always had a soft spot for our boy Fanning. He looks like a lad who'd help you across the road. Lovely. Just lovely. It was sad to see the poor soul missing out by the cruellest strokes of misfortune through the first half of the year.
But he's had his title hasn't he? 'Share' is what I always say. Don't be greedy. Don't be like that Slater fellow. Reminds me of Elvis he does. Never had enough to make him happy and look what happened to him.
They never learn. No they don't. Elvis. Such a shame.
So I was happy for young Joel's crackerjack beginning to the year. He's started his family quite young hasn't he? I always say, have 'em while you're young because then you've got more friends and you need friends don't you? I always say that don't I? I do.
Yes, Joel, lovely smile, lovely, but Esmae and Ada always wondered if he wasn't a bit cocky and I think they're on to something. Everything was always so easy. He looked like the cat who swallowed the cream.
So I started pulling for young Mick again, and what do you know, he's back on top! How wonderful. Yes. just lovely. Such a lad.
Well I WAS in Mick's corner until he won that thing in Portugal last night. Came straight out of the water and do you know the FIRST thing he did? Someone stuck a can of some newfangled energy drink in his hand and he and actually drank the whole thing! While he was being carried up the beach. In front of everyone!
Like he didn't care who saw!
God knows how much of the sugary muck the poor boy is hoovering up in private. Poor love.
Esmae reckons that next thing you know they'll be rushing down the water's edge with insulin, either that or a dialysis machine. She's got a mouth on her that woman. Yes she has.
Did I tell you that Diabetes took my poor Walter away? I'm not going to get attached to Mick only to lose him to the same scourge. It's just not right.
And that boy Joel has such lovely, white teeth, he wouldn't go near the stuff. No he wouldn't.
Go Joel. You make an old woman proud. And flushed.