I love you, maaaate

I recently heard something so beautiful, it stopped me in my tracks. It wasn’t birdsong, or a baby’s gurgle. It was a man speaking openly and publicly of his love and friendship for some significant men in his life.

Even more strangely, the man doing the speaking was a high-profile AFL footballer, relating his affection for his fellow footballers during a media interview in the lead-up to one of last week’s Round 5 games.

It made me feel warm and fuzzy…no, not “that” sort of warm and fuzzy – refreshingly, I was filled with respect, relief and high regard, not to mention hope, happiness and humanity at the words of Brownlow Medallist and new West Coast Eagles midfielder, veteran Sam Mitchell.

Following injury the previous week, there was speculation whether Mitchell would be fit enough to play against his old team Hawthorn, where he spent his entire AFL career until six months ago, and where he has many old friends.

This is what he had to say:

“At the end of the game, you know, we’ll shake hands and have a cuddle and tell each other you love ‘em, but for the two hours before that, it’s footy and I’m going to do everything I can to help the Eagles win.”

If you don’t want to listen to the entire 12-minute video interview (unlikely, I know), fast forward to the 7min.14sec mark to hear the golden sentence.

http://www.westcoasteagles.com.au/video/2017-04-18/mitchell-wellingham-press-conference-180417

Golden because men expressing love for other men out loud and in public, because!

Blokes rarely speak openly of their love for their male friends, and it’s a shame, because friendship is golden and it’s always nice to hear such heart-warming affirmations. Especially in a world full of online trolls, nasty jibes and just plain bad, sad news. Some of it unfortunately about the less than complimentary behaviour of men.

Yes, men love their male friends, should tell them that they do and hug it out to boot. Why? Because it feels great and should be normal social discourse, and not just with a few beers under the belt. We girls do it alllll the time!

Besides, science long ago proved the benefits of oxytocin, the hormone our bodies produce when we give, feel and receive love, including everything from healing burns, to strokes, high blood pressure, heart disease, kidney malfunctions, schizophrenia, and autism. Read more here: http://bit.ly/2poVlMy

Disappointingly, I only heard this clip played once on a radio news bulletin, but did see and hear many other snippets of the same interview played ad infinitum across the media landscape that day.

Personally, I found this the most fascinating, meaningful and memorable part of the entire interview.

Onya Sam Mitchell! I love your frank, open, honest, down-to-earth, emotional, straight-talking style, even if you are an Eagle 😉

Thanks to © 2017 The Roar – Your Sports Opinion for the awesome photo of Sam Mitchell enjoying a friendly onfield embrace from former Hawthorn teammate Shaun Burgoyne.

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Telly’s fading light

We used to have a thing.

Me and the Telly.

We would meet every night, around 8.30 to bask in each other’s light until, satisfied with my daily bout of visual stimulation, my ‘just resting’ eyelids would dampen my consciousness into a helpless, exhausted slumber on the family micro suede lounge.

My Telly would watch over me, whispering sweet god knows what into my shell like (the one not crushed into pins and needles upon the lumpy cushion), standing guard until I’d finally manage to remotely kill it and drag my pop-culture drugged body and brain to my waiting bed.

This went on for a couple of years. I would hang out to give in to this always waiting nightly companion, to indulge its silliness or seriousness; it never stood me up…unless there was a power blackout and candles became my fairweather friends.

Granted, sometimes Telly was a bit boring and repetitive, but I forgave it and pushed through those times with gritty determination not to lose our connection, sealed with my inevitable petite mort.

Telly was my daily release from the stresses of full time work, accommodating the needs of growing children, keeping my mind off emotionally draining personal issues. Until…

Telly began to appear jaundiced, less interesting, untrying, no longer addressing my fickle changing needs. I’d seen and heard it all before, the predictable one-liners, ulterior motives, self-serving messaging and imagery. Our connection was waning.

And my head was eventually turned by another more soothing, dependable suitor.

My Bed.

Pimped with new linen, soft lighting, a plethora of bedside novels, my Bed and I began a torrid affair that continues to this day.

Some mornings I can barely drag myself away from my Bed and the hollow I’ve made in the very fabric of its soul. We eat together, read together and sleep together, often enjoying an afternoon delight I could never dream of experiencing with Telly.

Occasionally I flirt with Telly, and although I sometimes hanker for those old days, I know the magic’s all but….gone, like the pinprick of light in the centre of the screen when “there’s no more Telly, it’s time to go to bed, as Neil from the Young Ones was want to moan.

We know each other intimately, embracing each other’s faults and lumps, celebrating them no less! Bed doesn’t try to sell me new PJs to replace my old faves, instead becoming my bed clothes without complaint or jibe.

We even have our own song…Gonna live while I’m alive, and sleep with my Bed.

Thanks for the inspiration Jon Bon Jovi.original-philips-television-ad-retro-tv-1960s