Harry averaged 1.3 goals per game last season.
Mitch averaged 1.4

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Let slip the Blues of war (with apologies to William Shakespeare) (and Sir Francis Bacon, just in case)

Flew to Melb about 15 years ago with a mate. Went to melb central for some reason and we grabbed a coffee. Saw kade Simpson smashing a panini at the same place. Seemed embarrassed that my mate and I recognized him. The end

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About 15 years ago you say? Gee, you'd think 10 years into his career Kade would have gotten used to being recognized.

It's early in the 1987 season. A small crowd had made its way to VFL Park to witness Carlton take on its archenemy in Collingwood. My Dad and I and our Collingwood-supporting neighbors had arrived at half-time in the reserves where Carlton had established an early lead. As the players made their way back onto the field after the break, the faint smell of cigarette smoke waltzed in with an odor which I found disturbingly pleasant. Eager to locate its source of origin, I traced the wisps of silver grey smoke as they slowly curled, then hung on the air - shifting like ghosts in the breeze ready to greet supporters' nostrils before escaping the bitter gusts of wind that howled around the ground. Before too long, my detective work had paid dividends. Despite averting my eyes for another Darren Ogier goal, I had found the mystery smoker. I trained my eyes on a stocky, balding man - three rows in front of me to the right. He momentarily turned sideways, shielding the paper weapon from the breeze as he clicked the lighter to life and lit it, pursing his lips and revealing a Ron Jeremy-esque mustache. The toxins filled his lungs and he exhaled a cloud of smoke that swirled upwards like a dancer towards a dull autumn sky, before curling into nothingness once again. My mystery smoking man looked very familiar. Could it be? Yes! It was none other than Wayne Harmes. I had long studied photos of his somewhat controversial 1979 Grand Final lunge and now found myself studying his somewhat controversial lungs. Harmes was only 27, but looked every bit a 40-something year old who was awaiting the results of Race 2 at Doomben. I scrambled for the Footy Record, rummaged around in my backpack for a pen and set off down the stairs to greet the Norm Smith medalist.
"Hi Mr Harmes," I said sheepishly..."Can I please get your autograph?"
"Yeah" he said instantaneously in a rather gruff tone, the cigarette dangling precariously out of the corner of his mouth. I had seen video of Keith Richards do this and wondered how it never fell - on closer inspection I had concluded it was the perfect combination of a dry and damp lip in which the texture of the paper clung. I thanked Harmes and made my way back to my seat, a trail of Benson & Hedges menthols following me up the stairs. I studied the Harmes penmanship. 'Best Wishes - Wayne Harmes' it read. Dad leaned over for a closer look.
"Hey Dad...I was wondering. Should a professional footballer really be smoking?"
"Well - he's not playing today, so he can probably do what he wants"
I pondered at that answer for a second.
"Yeah - I guess."

______

Apparently some of the older players used to have a couple of gaspers at half time and it is rumoured that Serge used to have a shot of grappa.

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Let slip the Blues of war (with apologies to William Shakespeare) (and Sir Francis Bacon, just in case)

I got drunk out of my skull at a Spirit of Carlton function a few years ago. Legends in attendance (some nearly as intoxicated as me) included Swan McKay, Marcou, Wow Jones, Val Perovic, Rhys-Jones, Buckley, McConville, Collo, Curly Austin, Vin Catoggio. Lots of funny stories - some I knew, some I didn’t. All the guys mixed easily with us nobodies and my mate & I were even invited to tag along with a few of them to an off-campus venue afterwards. It was awesome. I’m not a big drinker these days, but that was fun.

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It's never as good as it looks and it's never as bad as it seems.

I had an operation in September 1990, shared a room with Ian Herman.

Was his worst nightmare!

Fast forward to round 2, 1991. Away game in Adelaide, overjoyed with the upset win I jump the fence and run on. PA system blaring "would all the Carlton supporters please leave the field '
Who do I run up to?...... Ian Herman. You can see me on the replay.



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Between our dreams and actions lies this world

Or maybe he was more keen to see how the Tigers were doing.

Great story doc!

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#DonTheStash

Yes....you're the one next to Herman's Head

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#DonTheStash

Nice one Bart

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Between our dreams and actions lies this world

1. Frank Marchesani's parents went to my parent's wedding

2. A media throng had assembled in 2002 on the ground at Princes Park to interview Wayne Brittain. A young Gerard Whately was there with his media pass lanyard around his neck. I asked Gerard whether I could ask Wayne Brittain a question. He gave me a very curt, "no"

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If I want your opinion, I'll give it to you!

I was driving down Royal Parade about ten years ago in traffic and decided to let someone in from the PP Carpark or they would still be waiting there after all these years.
The car pulled out in front of me and the driver looked over and nodded to me in thanks.
It was Big Nick.
I did the two armed kowtow to him and he actually grinned at me.

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Let slip the Blues of war (with apologies to William Shakespeare) (and Sir Francis Bacon, just in case)

knowing him it would have been a grimace, not the friendliest chap

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Between our dreams and actions lies this world

Growing up in Bendigo, my idol was Mick Sexton. I would say I got his autograph at least 8 times over the years, and he was always happy to sign for me. I believe I still have one signature left in my memorabilia box.

My Mum was also very good friends with the Dominators wife from Netball days, although I was never lucky enough to get his signature, Mum always forgot to ask, or it might have been they weren’t together anymore. Anyway, that sucked at the time.

Sadly thats true.

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All my dangerous friends

It was the week after the last game at princes park. My daughter then rising 6 yo had gone to the game with me and was off school so had come in to work with me at my then Melbourne office at the top end of William Street. Pestering me for a hot chocolate I took her to Don Camillo's on Victoria Street and as we were lining up to place our order she asked if she could get something to eat so sent her up to the counter to look. As she come back to me she looked up at the man in front of me in the queue - whose back only I had seen - and said "Hello Mr. Big Nick!". That was the moment I knew I was raising her right in one respect at least.

Yeah but, that's not boring. That's a great story.

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The problem with Socialism is, you eventually run out of other people's money.

And there may be a concern over Hickmont

Gartlett.

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Never argue with idiots. They drag you down to their level and then beat you with experience!!!

After Monday and Tuesday, even the calendar says W T F .........
Visit http://fromthemoshpit.com/

I once touched Robert Klomps dressing gown.. true story. He was wearing it.