Ya basically that's Thai for hello. No I did not type it into a free translation program found on Google. I'm a very well travelled and cultured young man if you must know. But aren't we all at the Cobras. Aren't we all just so fantastic? The answer: You bet your fucking life we are!
So it's Monday. Blue Monday. Not quite. There's that classic line from Office Space- does someone have a case on the Mondays? It really irritates the main character (Peter), I told you before I'm cultured, and it certainly irritates me. It grates me. It grates my tits. Oh, just punch me in the.... tits! Two myprodols and a couple of Heinekens are making this incredibly interesting. Back to Monday, the day before Tuesday and the day following Sunday. I'm sure you all knew that. Except for maybe Fetish. Don't think fetish knew that. So it's Monday and it's dark and wintery and windy outside my window. Very bleak. Not me, I'm happy (I told you I just popped two myprodols and some Heineken). It's just that the weather is bleak. Na mean? Alright. So Wednesday and the quarter finals are only days away (Fetish Wednesday follows Tuesday). The Cobras are reaching the business end of the season and it looks set to be a cracker jack finish. I, unfortunately, will not be present this Wednesday. Business you see. No no no, not in Joburg. In Zimbabwe believe it or not. Meeting some important clients. Taking off a few days of Varsity to wine and dine this lot. Big spenders you see.
So here is the weather report for Wednesday.
There's a maximum of 30 degrees.
Minimum- 13 degrees.
30% showers with strong South Westerly winds.
I'm expecting harsh winds up on the green mile. Powerful gusts that will make the high ball an impossible task. Impossible for a human perhaps, but when you have the likes of Stefan Terblanche at number 15, there's nothing really to worry about. I mean the man's hands are as safe as houses. To think that he's not playing for the Bokke. How lucky we are at the Cobras to rub shoulders with such amazing players. Just think of the confidence he inspires. The sheer determination of the players around him just to share a brief moment at the break down. Maybe even cop a feel and pass it off as general buggerness. Got to love the buggerness.
So here goes. This week's interview features none other than Stefan Terblanche himself, aka Dean Smorenburg, aka the Snake, aka Starvin Marvin.
Bug: Deano, what a pleasure having you with me today. (Incidentally Dean did not opt for the myprodol/heineken concoction I'm going for). How's things? How are those shin splints?
Deano: Ya Bug (incredibly deep voice, perhaps what God sounded like when he said- let there be light), I'm all good hey. I've been holding off on a couple of squash games and some trail running to give them a rest. I mean there's no point risking it when games such as Wednesday's are on the line. How's your shoulder?
B: Hey thanks Deano. It's not often the interviewees start asking about my well being. That oke Nessi was so rude you know. Always talking about himself. Always referring to himself in the third person. Bit arrogant if I may say so myself. Good riddance I say. But Deano. There's that great quote from last year, not the security quote you did for that ou who called you Deon, but rather the one when an opposition player likened you to a well bred race horse. On steroids. How do you plead?
B: I thought so. This man is on roids people!
D: No no Bug, I meant I somewhat like a race horse.
B: Ah I see. What feature of your anatomy would you say is most like that of a race horse? huh? Hey? Ya?
(Quickly, I just figured out how to add images to this thing. Two years and I work it out right now. In honour of this moment, I'd like to honour another moment.) Pause.
COME ON! We are doing that again! It is going to happen!
D: Should I leave?
B: No, sorry Dean I just got carried away there. In the moment you see. Living in the moment. What a feeling. Can you see me in there? Tongue out. Enjoying myself. Immensely.
D: Sick vibe.
B: Very very very very sick vibe.
D: My legs.
B: Your legs.
D: Yes, my legs.
D: MY LEGS!
D: My most similar feature to that of a race horse! Idiot. That's the question you asked me before you went mad and started ranting.
B: I... I...
D: Save it. Leave it. Move on.
B: Ok. Sorry. Well we're done.
D: What do you mean we're DONE?! What a waste of time.
B: Bleak. Like emotionally bleak, not in the sense that the weather is bleak.
D: Fuck off.
B: Where to?
D: Somewhere far.
B: Like Zimbabwe?
So there you have it gents. Another enlightening and eventful conversation with another enlightening and eventful Cobras character. Best of luck for Wednesday my friends. May it be a boringly easy. Until next time...
Always take the weather with you!