After many a summer spent glued to the couch, lacking vitality and motivation to acquire additional DVDs, it was only a matter of time before I was to develop a rather unexpected interest in test cricket. An interest that allowed for little argument when my sister suggested we get on down to the 2nd day of the Sydney test this year.
…
Being told to ‘Keep walking champ.’ after trying to enter through the wrong gate, confirmed my excited suspicions we were to be seated firmly in the SCG yob section. And while it’s reputation stems from a cricket ground south of the border, the SCG’s very own Bay 13 was not to disappoint.
Situated behind deep backward square leg, the yob section was to mirror the on-field action before lunch. Steady but still warming up on the VB mid-strengths. Lunch set the scene for the afternoon as a bunch of young schoolgirls were subjected to the harsh (but fair) running commentaries from the best Bay 13 had to offer; during what was intended as a cute demonstration of young girls playing cricket.
The Yellow Shirts, in a desperate attempt at improving public perceptions, had dropped the ‘Security’ title and re-branded themselves as ‘Crowd Safety.’ Yet in a world where SCG management are rivaled only by the Taliban in compiling lists of things to prohibit, touchy/feely name changes were destined to do little to turn yob sympathies in the Yellow Shirts favour.
Such prohibited items include (but are not limited to):
No Mexican waves.
No Beach balls.
No throwing anything.
No Cup-snakes
No racial vilification or abuse of any kind, on the basis of race, religion, ethnicity, or skin colour.
ED: Cupsnakes are a tradition whereby yobs pile-up all of their empty cups and connect them. Story has it that he with the biggest snake is the biggest yob; and may take the wife of his choosing… or something like that.
The rules could fill a leather bound book with paragraphs and bi-laws. Constantly updated and exponentially expanding. My QC assures me however, that at the time of writing abusive critiques regarding players’ or punters’ haircuts, fashion, demeanor, mothers, girlfriends or political persuasions should not be grounds for incurring management’s disdain. Despite my excited inquiries, the current advice from my QC holds that the throwing of tantrums is ‘inadvisable.’
Several Mexican waves emanated from behind our 4th row seats, shooting out in both directions to the delight of yobs and snobs alike, before the Yellow Shirts singled out a scapegoat for removal. Unhappy with his situation, the scapegoat counted down a final wave as one last hurrah while being escorted away.
Yellow Shirts walked the beat attempting to confiscate cup-snakes in their infancy. Escorting from the yob section many a near complete snake, and somewhat bizarrely; a drinks-tray-stack (Ed: cheeky and inspired) that held massive potential. Knowing they had to some extent beaten the system, yobs held cup-snakes up with pride, resulting in acclaim and a shower of additional cups.
Beach balls bounced over the yob section as we got to know a bunch of yobs in front of us, not through a boring Q&A session, but through the unsung art of eavesdropping and blatant listening-in. Little time was required to suss their crew:
Karley had sometime previously banged Matt and was the one-time girlfriend of Bryce who she was “still rooting.” Against this backdrop, Karly had resolved to go to the cricket with Bryce and his yobbo mates. Lack of foresight having Karly and her tag-along friend seated somewhere removed from her yob crew. At one stage Karly offered 20 bucks, then a possible 50 to swap seats with my sister and I.
My sister was at first inclined to take up the offer. But Karly was a mole, acting high class in demeanor and style, squeezing an educated accent through her Dubbo mouth – and we were comfortable where we were.
Karly did herself few favours, getting drunker, more annoying and paying out on the boys in their own environment. To which the inevitable followed:
‘If we’re all so shit Karly why did you fuck half the boys? You even did me twice!’ – Matt
‘No! I Slept with you once and gave you head once!’ – Karly
‘Ok, put your hand up if you’ve had your cum in Karly’s mouth. She ain‘t aging well either.’ – Matt
‘I might be getting older but your dick ain’t getting any bigger Matt’ – Karly
Feeling slightly dejected and in need of validation, Karly staggered down to chat up Constable Klein sitting down the front:
‘So where are you from?’ – Karly
‘Oh shit Karly that’s original!’ – Johnno
‘Karly! What’s takin ya so long? Just get on ya back and wet up!’ – Matt
After protracted heckling Karly abandoned her police pursuit and was then ordered to the bar. Upon being asked to pass her wallet, Bryce threw her fancy Oroton purse over the rail in Klein’s general direction.
‘Constable Klein! Karly threw that there cos she wants ya cock!’ – Johnno
Unfortunately for Bryce The fancy purse landed on Senior Constable Care who jumped the fence to demand answers from Karly, amid shouts from the punters to press charges.
Things lost clarity sometime after tea, but I’ll leave the last word to my little sister…
Following the departure of Bryce’s crew, we wished Karly good luck as she scurried after the boys in a ditzy, drunken stupor… flailing her arms about as my sister regally remarked: ‘Well she’s getting plenty of cock tonight.’
There was also a cricket match.
M. Radcliffe
you get karley’s number by any chance?
too funny :)