Townsville for 1.

Forum 7's that union of writing and league is back for 2009. We had our first game against the Dragons this week. We won by 1 point which means our editing and writing all were worth it.

I've decided to get a start on next weeks match by writing my next piece now. Enjoy.

Townsville for 1.

I’ve just had the gig from hell. I’m stuck on Church Street in Parramatta at 1am looking for a taxi. The crowd ebbs and flows around me but, I’m the loneliest man in the world.

I hail a taxi and get in. The cabbie is talkative. He asks where I’ve been. I reply Comedy. He asks me if I’m a comedian. I nod my head. He asks me to tell him a joke. I deliver it; poorly. He looks at me like I’m a sham. I know that already. At least the rest of the ride is silent.

I get home and pack. I find my jerseys. They all smell bad. I pick the least offensive and place it on top of my bag. I go to bed and set the alarm for 4:30am.

The alarm rings. My girlfriend rolls over. I kiss her forehead and I think she tells me to piss off. I shower, get dressed and wait.

My phone rings. It’s the shuttle service. I go outside. There is no shuttle. I call the number back and ask where he is. He says number 62. I look up the road and notice the red of some tail lights. I run. He’s stopped at number 52. I have a dyslexic driver to the airport.

Small talk is non-existent. I try to snooze but can’t. Dawn breaks.

I get to the airport and check in. I’m asked if I have any explosives. I’m tempted to say I bombed last night but don’t. I stop and get the paper. Someone asks me if I’m going to the game. I reply that I wear my Warriors jersey in airports on Sunday mornings to advertise the team. It isn’t received well.

I look up from the paper. I notice a Warriors fan. He comes over and introduces himself. He’s going to Townsville as well. He’s with his girlfriend. They hug. I could use a hug but I don’t ask for one. I cry inside.

We board the flight. We sit across the aisle from each other. He points out Steve Mascord, sitting 2 rows in front. Steve has a massive head and a sense of self satisfaction that I envy.

We get to Townsville. The airport is covered in blue, yellow and white crepe paper. It looks like Cowboy Christmas for bogans. We get a cab. I’m staying in the centre of town; they’re staying near the casino. We swap numbers.

It’s 9:30am. I’ve had 3 hrs sleep. I nap. The fan calls me. I wake. I meet the fan in the centre of town.

The highlight of the day is watching a drunk female call a group of girls sluts. They’re only 13 years old and it’s 11am. End highlight.

The fan goes back to his hotel. I spend the next three hours in the museum. The woman from museum reception sees me three times. I think she feels sorry for me and makes small talk. I am now sobbing inside. I buy a snow globe from the gift store. I don’t feel better.

I go to the casino and lose $20 on the pokies while I wait for the fan.

We catch the bus from the casino. It costs $8 one way. I’m outraged but pay as I know of no other travel option. The bus crawls along painfully and is soon full of Cowboys fans. I feel dirty.

We get to the ground. It’s in the middle of nowhere. There is more dust than grass. We pick up our tickets and find out we’re in the same bay. With some creative seat shifting we end up sitting together. It’s hot. The Warriors are wearing black. Not good.

The game starts. Thurston fires a forward pass to Bowen just before half time. Bowen scores, Thurston converts. It’s 18-12. I should have left then. The second half is torture. The fan leaves with 20 to go. I watch numbly as the Cowboys rack up 31 second half points. The crowd cheers. I don’t.

I leave the ground by myself. I catch the wrong bus and end up in a paddock opposite a shopping centre. I get back on the bus. I catch another bus. It’s the right bus but I know I’m in the wrong town.

I get back to my hostel. The fan won’t return my calls. I eat alone. There are other diners around me, but I’m the loneliest man in the world.