RUN REPORT

Chardonnay’s AFL Grand Final Run
26 September from Civic Club, Hobart
Hare: Jack Sh!t and Red Dress
Run Reporter: Grizzly

Ah, that one day in September.

Even though there are 29 other ‘one days in September’, the build up to and anticipation of watching 36 fit, young athletes do battle over the course of 120 minutes is something else. So charged with erotic tension is the AFL Grand Final that we needed a form of suppressant, lest Jugs‘ chairs become all moist with joie de vivre.

That’s where Jack Sh!t and Red Dress come in (pun unintended). Their task was to bring down the sexual temperature with some vigorous exercise. Not that big an ask, looking around at a motley collection of Hashers whose heart rates max-out just by tying up shoelaces.

There was an array of football jerseys on display, but no purple army or Fitzroy of old. More neutrals than in a Ford XE manual gearbox. Spoof was wearing something foreign and could regularly be seen proudly pointing to the Leeds United crest. Either that or his pacemaker had stopped again and he was signalling for a jump start. Virgin Hasher Graeme was re-thinking his football allegiances after being ‘adopted’ by Can’t Stop, as the only other Dees supporter brave enough to show their colours.

At the appointed hour – and without any pre-Hash entertainment on offer – the Hares sent us off up Davey Street. There were a few gun-runners on hand to do all the false trails – Chris Miss, TicToc and Blueprint from one Hump Day Hash in Launny – but some recalcitrant traffic lights saw them disappear into the distance, and were of no further use to anyone.

After waiting an inordinate amount of time for the lights to change at the crossing, Wee Bev coined a new Hash call: “F*ck this, I’m off” and led a group of revolting Hashers against the little red man. (Down with the agressively-coloured patriarchy!)

The Hares did a good job with the FTs, keeping together most of the Pack that were ever going to be bothered to follow trail. The footprint of the trail didn’t ever seem to stray far from the Civic Club. By design or by pure arse, you could superimpose the MCG over trail and we’d not even ducked outside the gates for a quick dart. The Telstra Heat Map® would probably show that we covered more ground than Mason Cox later that afternoon.

As we turned back toward the Civic Club the promise of a p!ss stop seemed to be as intangible as a St Kilda Premiership, but trail diverted down toward the rivulet and a fully-loaded PS at the start of Linear Park.

Just as Hashers were starting to settle into the serious business of drinking the Eskys dry, there were reports of Harriettes getting moist. TicToc found Scary Eyeball’s ‘hands-free’ device and would no doubt be well into her ‘third quarter’ if there wasn’t the call to f*ck off.

The return journey featured some architectural appreciation, as those who had not burdened themselves with unnecessary wet weather gear now hugged every building enroute.

The Grand Final Run’s surprise caterer (it was a surprise to me when I found out on Thursday) set about turning Wee Bev’s ice age burgers into a feed for the masses, the spicy chicken burgers catching more than a few unaware. There were party pies and homemade vegie ‘sausage’ rolls at half-time and Wee Bev later chiselled some ice cream, topped with colours of the Grand Final protagonists, to round out a good feed.

Stand-in Lip Herr Flick took to the stairs to deliver his verdict on the afternoon’s proceedings, but was under the pump as we received regular updates from TAP – not of the footy scores, but of Kylie’s imminent appearance.

With the Chardonnay anthem out of the way, everyone settled in for one of those rarities – a cracker of a Grand Final. Although this did prove to be too much for many Harriettes, who disappeared en masse around half-time with a likely case of the vapours.

Wonderful Grand Final Run. Thanks to all involved. All that it was missing was a firepot.

On On!
Grizzly

DOWN DOWNS

Lip: Herr Flick

• Hares: Jack Sh!t (and Red Dress in absentia).
• Magpie: visitor. Demanded her skol early as she wanted to see Kylie sing.
• Snack Bar: worn out after late night drinks. Fringe Benefits asked if he got horny on the yoga mat.
• Xena: having a Maxi-free weekend. Usually Maxi only responds to Xena’s texts a couple of days later, but because she knew that Red Dress and Jack were getting responses straight away Maxi thought it best to up his game this time around.
• Swallow: neglecting her duties after 28 years of GF Runs a Kingston. Where’s the firepot?

• Grizzly: rushed home from pickleball to get ready and head out to Arsecutter’s ‘bucks party’, only to find out that it was the wrong date.
• Smallgoods: whinging because Luv Shack has ‘gone shopping’.
• Wee Bev: for the first time in 26 years, no Hash gear on trail!
• Chris Miss: telling Jack what to do and a lot of ‘advice’, then tells him what a good boy he is when he actually listens and gets the trail right.

• Blah Blah Blah: heard to say ‘nice to know that your finger still fits in the hole when you’re an adult’. Allegedly referring to Cheezels.
• TicToc and Can’t Stop: gun runners. Both did Parkrun this morning, but only one could back it up and run trail this afternoon.
• Bart: wearing his H5 Oktoberfest shirt one week early. Recons that there’s another week in it before requiring a wash.

• Blueprint: visitor. Too scared to say anything to the Hares as they ran past setting trail, just jumped up on a fence to get out of their way.
• Luv Shack: didn’t do trail and chose to do some ‘retail looking’, which is different to ‘shopping’ in some unfathomable way.
• Scary Eyeball: arrived fifteen minutes after trail started then asked Jugs “am I early?” Actually walked to the p!ss stop.
• Graeme: Hash virgin. One Graeme skols…

Skols from the floor:

• Spoof to Snack Bar: still waiting for the beer he’s owed. “All in God’s good time.”

HASH FLASH

Photos of Run 1549