Blues, Boos and Barbecues

Thanks for visiting The Lounge today, on this blue day for us Blues supporters.

Link-up below if you wish and check out all the other posts too.

 

 

I’ve just returned from the State of Origin, my first ever Decider match. I donned a blue wig and T-shirt and sat in the Blatchy’s Blues area with 14000 other NSW supporters.  It was loud and fun, exactly how game day should be.  If you’re a footy fan, I’d recommend shelling out the cash for a State of Origin match, at least once.

 

 

 

However, as usual, no night out would be complete without the one or two dickheads who ruin it for the rest of us…

 

 

I saw three fights break out.  Three.  These were fights between adults supporting the same team at a game they bothered to travel to, after paying at least $110.  I don’t know who they were, they weren’t wearing the blue wigs like the rest of the cool people.  They were just idiots.  How pathetic are people?  Boo #1.

 

 

The vocal, young guy I was sitting next to was the perfect gentleman, apologising in advance for the noise he was going to make when the game started.  That was OK.  What was not OK was his elbow in my jaw when NSW scored their try.  He was so excited, he didn’t even notice.  Now my jaw is clicking when I move it.  Boo #2.

 

 

Another adult who, from my spot up in the nosebleeds, looked as though he was dressed up in a lion onesie (but actually turned out to be completely naked), streaked across the field.  Funny but grow up.  Enjoy paying your fine.  Boo #3.

 

Source

 

 

There were a few names that I actually stood there and thought about, while waiting for my $10.30 hot chips and water (which is Boo #4, by the way).  Referee, Shayne Hayne, Queenslander, Cooper Cronk and NSW player Boyd Cordner.  What the actual?  When I named my kids, the first thing I thought about was eliminating the silly name possibilities against my exceptionally long Greek surname. Shayne Hayne?  I’m calling it.  Boo #5.

 

 

Which brings me to Boo #6.  This week’s theme, barbecues.

 

 

Man is the BBQ expert of the South.  He does a very good job, it goes without saying.  We’ve had many a return visitor at Casa de Robo for our Greek style barbecues.

 

 

I don’t doubt that there is a certain level of skill associated with cooking meat.  There are lots of variables – the fire strength, the charcoal, the fat, the type of meat…  

 

 

But we all know that cooking is the glory job.  My argument is that the hard work is in the barbecue preparation.  Most of the magic happens in the kitchen, well before the meat hits the grill.

 

 

Not only do I buy the best meat I can afford.  I trim it, wash it, marinate it in a special secret recipe and take it out to the barbie.  I wash all the vegetables and make a salad.  I put together other condiments such as cheese platters and home made dips.  I take all the plates, cups, cutlery and drinks out to the barbecue area and then I’m the one bringing everything back into the house.

 

 

Why can’t Man help?

He cooked the Barbecue.

Of course.

 

 

That aside, the old BBQ is a firm favourite.  It starts out as a regular barbie which then turns into a good old feral, redneck style event where we build a fire and the kids get to chuck in sticks.   Aside from the awesome food, at our place, a fire is the grand finale to a good barbecue.

 

Our burnt little Weber has seen a few too many Robostyle bonfires.

 

 

Do you BBQ?

Link up here:

 

Love,

Robo X