Slammin’ Sam

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Sorry that I wasn’t able to provide you with one of my insightful articles in the previous edition, but I received an urgent message from my old mate Keka, begging for assistance, and I felt I had to answer the call.

I first met Keka – or Kekovich, as he claims to be called – at the Seymour races on a Thursday afternoon. My mate Boonga and I used to hitch-hike out there after school for the last two events on the program and have a couple of fifty-cent bets. The day we met Keka, Boonga noticed that there was a horse in the last at Wyong that had been trained in Tumaurrumba, where Boonga was born, and we thought it was as good a reason as any to bet on it.

We merged assets totaling two dollars and it duly saluted at 25 to 1.  Little did we know that Kekovich was watching and had wondered at our ability to pick such an outsider. He was also surprised that a bookmaker would pay two 16-year-olds.

He introduced himself and made enquiries into our racing knowledge. After getting us to autograph his racing book, we noticed the sun was setting and asked him why he wasn’t at football training. He replied, “it’s 1975, without me, we will not win the flag. Get your money on me not being in the team photo, because I will be ‘busy’ with Miss Victoria.” From then on, our relationship grew and every second Thursday we would run into Keka at the races. Unfortunately for us, and as much as we tried, we couldn’t get on with his Nostradamus tips with any of the bookies.

Back to what I was talking about at the start of this article. Keka rang to say that he was making a film and that he needed someone to show the actors how to simulate a football match. He had secured the services of one Jack Thompson, he said, with the proceeds from his ads for lamb meat, who he thought would do a convincing job, but that he needed me to teach the rest of the cast what footy was about. I knew that was never going to be possible, but he implored me. So what could I do, but head for the coast and make sure that his financial investment was sound?

Jack was a monty. He knew how to sit in a coach’s box, due to his experience in the movie The Club.  Angus was a different story all together. I appointed myself goal umpire but I’m afraid I wasn’t able to pretend that he had kicked a goal for the camera well enough. Later, when the director realised how hopeless Angus was, he got me and Towty – that’s Thompson to the uninitiated – to kick some proper goals.

What a BLINDER!

On to real football now. Our side was beaten on the weekend, but we are sure the Saints will rise and overcome the first round loss.

There will be a round 3 game on Saturday, 5th May, between the Saints and St Pauls at McKinnon Reserve.

Training is each Tuesday and Thursday from 6pm at the Peanut Farm Reserve

Go Saints!

By John Malham

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