Super Bowl Commercial: Mcdonald’s The Showdown with Larry Bird and Michael Jordan.
Super Bowl Commercial: Mcdonald’s The Showdown with Larry Bird and Michael Jordan.

Emulating MJ is not an easy task, but we can only try


I'VE enjoyed this pandemic about as much as I used to enjoy a beep test in high school.

But I don't think I've ever enjoyed a bit of tube time as much as the past few months.

Tiger King, rolled straight into The Last Dance, has served up hours of gripping content.

Jordan's attitude is contagious. He's a born winner.

It's given me plenty to think about when our very D-grade Sunday cricket competition restarts.

It seems straight forward to me that we can implement a number of measures which will drastically improve our season.

We will no longer be rocking up to the game in our playing shirts and boardies.

Oversized suits are going to be the order of the day.

Mid and post-game beers will have to be replaced with champagne bottles.

The cheeky darts will also be shipped out and in their place will be some very fat Cuban cigars.

I may struggle to complete the transition but, unless you know of anyone willing to swap a Porsche for a Barina.

I'm confident we have the cattle to emulate the feats documented in The Last Dance.

Nothing reeks of elite performance more than scraping home for a one-run win against a bunch of blokes still drunk from the night before who are two men short in the field.

We managed to drag ourselves into a surprise grand final appearance last season.

What wasn't surprising was the capitulation that followed.

We were absolute smoked by a team that'd notched up a morning fish and a footy club booze-up before our game even started.

There's not much more demoralising than being carted to all corners by a bloke whose blood alcohol level is higher than your own average.

But I feel if the season can be restarted, we have the potential to do something even more special than the '98 Bulls.

They all say you have to lose a grand final before you win one, so we've had the perfect preparation really.

I'm picturing the scenes now.

The Creek Tavern's courtesy bus transformed into our makeshift private jet, as we hightail it back to the sports bar to kick off the celebrations.

There's a bit of a Tim Paine-Steve Smith situation going on within the ranks, a crease which will have to be ironed out if we are to make a tilt for the title.

I may even have to do a Dennis Rodman disappearing act pre-game, in a bid to boost the team's chances of a win.

Yes, I will selflessly sacrifice the chance at a dashing run-a-ball 11 in a GF for a three-day bender in Brisvegas.

I like to think of myself as a bit of a Joe Exotic-Michael Jordan-Phil Jackson type.

A real leader.

In truth I'm probably more of a Scott Burrell.

It's hard to be considered inspirational as you walk off after another duck, I suppose.