Imapling..(True if somewhat over embellished story of my brown jacket year)

In February of 2009, the faithful entourage of Benjamin Manfred Keens joined him in St Kilda Melbourne to farewell one of the games all time greatest wingmen!!
Having recently made the move to Melbourne from Canberra, I considered myself somewhat of a local and made the journey from the quiet coastal suburb of Altona to the hip and happening surrounds of St Kilda beach.
For the opening session, we decided to strap on the pads and knock the froth of a couple of the local brews at the Esplanade (ESPY) hotel and bar. In an enjoyable but largely uneventful evening we returned to our place of rest with moderate levels of intoxication. Arriving back at the safety of our hotel, it became apparent that our swipe card was not allowing us to gain access through the front gate. After breif negotiations with the friendly staff at the St Kilda Best and Western a replacement and functional card was forth coming.
Waking the following day, we made our way to the freshly mown greens of the St Kilda lawn bowls club for a spot of bowls. In an attempt to get back at the dog that bit us, we indulged in a hair of the dog, infact a couple hairs of the dog. After sending down a few jack highs and more then a few Carlton Draughts, maturely and somewhat uncharacteristically I headed back to the sheds for a tactical kip before an evening of entertainment hosted by the hospitable and scantily clad temptresses of the Mens Gallery!!
Falling in to a deep and blissful slumber, I rose from my nap refreshed at 9 oclock.... the following day.
Giving myself every opportunity to make it through the long day ahead I waited a good two hours and rehydrated with a few spring waters before joining my fellow travellers in a few Saturday Sippers.  Having a night of rest that would make sleeping beauty envious, I rated my chances highly of being in the lead pack at the end of a drinking marathon.
After admiring the 'chicken' that paraded itself down the main thoroughfare from the comfort of the St Kilda RSL, we once again returned to HQ. Admiring one chicken too many from the hotel balcony, Redman raised the feathers of the young 'hens' 'cock' otherwise known as her boyfriend. Bravely and selflessly I left the safety of the group to secure 'Slamin' Sam Makeham and my own hotel room, only to be confronted in the hallway by this nasty 'cock'.
Surviving the attack a night out at the casino was on the 'cards', dodging the crowds and manic gamblers I followed Prunne Diddy and junior Keens, Danny around the black jack tables.
After handing over my hard earned to the smiling assasins working the table, I made my way back to the ST Kilda RSL to save my mates from a prowling seductress. A stunning 24 year old double divorcee had attached herself to the group and was spinning her web of charms in the direction of a few of the studlier men in the team.
When she sat next to the 'buck' instinct took over and I immediately jumped between the two proclaiming 'not on my watch Luv!!' Clearly misjudging the situation, I sheepishly excused myself from the table and focused my weary mind on nipple crippling possibly the angriest man on tour and group Alpha male David Jess.
Obviously lacking appreciation for my sign of affection I copped a Mike Tyson like upper cut to the sternum area and collapsed on the table in a crumbling mess, I miraculously recovered just minutes later to shout the bar bourbon & cokes and clearly not satisfied by my stint at the casino hit up the pokie machines.
UnexplainablyI was cut off from the bar I decided to make my way home with wallet, keys and a pocket full of one dollar coins intact, none of which were mine.
After the previous difficulties in the opening session of the weekend with the gate entrance, I once again found myself having issue's entering the premise.. Not taking into account the relative sobriety of the opening stanza compared to the final session, I attempted climbing the fence with all the skill of a Bear Grylls scaling a rock face.
Attempting to enter my shelter I found that the entry door was also blocked this time, after stumbling and muttering to myself at my great misfortune I took a few steps back observing the scene in more detail this time before realising much to my shagrin I was at the wrong hotel!!
Realising the hurdle infront of me Id tackled just a matter of minutes ago I again summonsed the strength to climb this massive everest.. it was incredible just how much that fence seemed to grow in just a few minutes.
Placing one foot on the gutter and using a technique Id learnt from my great friends in the Special Forcess I threw my other leg over the fence whilst placing my hands either side of myself. In a situation like this it is key to give yourself a mental cue to assist at the moment of exertion, using the tried and tested method I began....


This is photo is not actually of me.. but you get the idea!!



' And a 1 ..and a 2.. and a 3' before attempting to launch myself over the fence. 'WEVE GOT A BLEEDER!!' I can now say unequivocally, I fully understand what it feels like to be a cheap ST Kilda hooker after copping a full 6 inches between the legs or my specifically through the leg.

 I would like to say I took the hit like a man....however, in my anguish and in a tone normally reserved for soprano's I stated my predicament at full raor to the local neighbourhood calling for assistance. Closing my eyes for a moment I opened them and much to my relief saw a familar and common theme throughout my brown jacket quinella, the fire brigade.
I offered my sincerest praise and gratitude to the firey's swift response commenting 'Wow you guys were quick, were you just around the corner?'. To which they replied 'Mate, you been passed out for the last 35 minutes.' In genuine shock I thanked the couple who flanked me either side for saving my life.
Still in severe pain I pleaded with them to get me off the fence, the gents informed me that they would be cutting me out of the fence and the offending paling would be coming with us still imbeded. I was swiftly escorted to the ambulance and asked if I would like the benifit of a pain killing agent, namely morphine and replied with resounding 'FUCK YES!!'
As the morphine infiltrated my veins I went from suffering a severe case of Mehta-itis (whinging, whineing and generally being a pain in the arse) to worlds happiest and charming man even attempting to pick up the nurses by my side despite my situation.
I spent 5 hours in Accident and Emergency vigorously declining requests by hospital staff to call a team mates to notify them of my wear abouts, repeating the line 'Have you not heard of the Brown Jacket!? I ve already burnt down my parents fucking kitchen!!'
After a snooze I finally succumb and answered a phone call from the man with worlds juiciest plumbs, Jeff Clark..
A 24 hour wait was required to give my body time to rid itself of the toxins on board before I could have surgery only for my to lungs collapse.. I woke up coughing blood and was read my death rights but told because of my exceptional fitness and healthy lifestyle I was a chance of pulling through.. I nearly died from shock there and then.
I could see the bright light rapidly approaching.. when in the distance I heard a firm yet feminine voice and with a gentle shake of the arm, my eyes snapped open to my delight I saw what every man dreams about when theyre lucky enough to make it to the 'Intensive Care Unit' .. The "Hot Nurse".  'Was this it?' I thought.. 'Had I made it to Heaven!?'
I hadnt, but It was enough to make a man teetering on the edge fight, to give a man quickly deminishing the desire to live another day. Gradually.. hour by hour, day by day I fought my way back to health.
Sitting there a wounded warrior a thought traversed its way through my mind, as I lay there comparing the physical qualites of my Mrs at the time with the 'Hot Nurse' I contemplated (possibly under the influence of heavy medication) the suggestion of an indecent proposal.. but in a moment of clarity,  thought the better of it.
My next few days were filled with the joys of day time television including the phenomenal programing of channel 10's trifecta of Spongebob Squarepants, Ellen Degeneres and Bold and the Beautiful.
By the fifth day  I felt like I had returned to my infancy when my first steps were met with unbridled joy by those responsible for my care, this excitment was only surpassed the following day when the news broke around the ward of my first stool for the best part of a week.
That was the worst of it and now all I have to show is a scar visible in shorts so small they make Warwick Capper squirm but when people do see it one day I can say " Ah, let me tell you a story about when a good mate of mine decided to get married at the end of season '08-09'."