Susie knew them as well as anyone could. She saw enough of them, all weekend and for the replay on Thursday night on the big screen downstairs. They were a great bunch who had been together since that night when Cathy Freeman stopped the nation in 2000. Their antics brought the house down that night and they had been cherished patrons ever since.
They started the weekend with a Big Breakfast on the walkway. It had become a ritual, akin to bathing away the sins of the world. Nothing like a hefty dose of animal fat to gird the loins for an afternoon flicking between codes of football until their heads swam. Every so often, one of them made a mad dash for the man who kept the tote in a cage beside the main bar.
The rapidity and passion of the falling out took the entire bar by surprise.