Doza and I are all ready for the Showdown today! Who will win?
CARN THE PEAR
Tag Archives: sport
Fractured Finger
Owh sheet. Fractured my finger at netball last night. 
It’s SORE! Have to keep it buddy-strapped for 3 to 4 weeks. Also is pretty black underneath that bandage. 
Never broken or fractured any bones before, don’t think I like it very much. Also work is a struggle now trying to wear gloves and use forceps etc.
If there’s an upside, its this. My brother’s response.
HAH! So yeah that means no netball for a month either. Devo. Will just have to find other ways to keep myself fit. Perhaps looking like a sloth could help. 
Sloth Football League
Went to the footy at Adelaide Oval tonight. Doza snuck along too! He even sported (see what I did there) a new guernsey just for the occasion. It was a little fast-paced for him but I think he got the gist. Took him a while to realise that the siren had gone and unfortunately our team lost though. Oh well. I think sloths would like a game more like golf, or lawn bowls… something that puts you to sleep…
Costa Rica v Netherlands Google Doodle
The other day the Google Doodle featured a sloth for the Costa Rica vs Netherlands World Cup 2014 match! This speedy little sloth was good at defending! So were the Costa Rica side actually, but unfortunately they couldn’t get over the line in the end. 
Click here for a link to the archived Doodle which was animated.
Sport Tonight but Wish I Was Doing This Instead
Hawthorn Won the AFL Grand Final
I was going for the Dockers, but congratulations to the happy Hawks!
Sloths are too slow for footy, but you can always connect them to everything and anything:
From William Shakespeare’s “King Lear”:
“False of heart, light of ear, bloody of hand—hog in sloth, fox in stealth, wolf in greediness, dog in madness, lion in prey. Let not the creaking of shoes nor the rustling of silks betray thy poor heart to woman. Keep thy foot out of brothels, thy hand out of plackets, thy pen from lenders’ books, and defy the foul fiend. Still through the hawthorn blows the cold wind, says, “Suum, mun, nonny.” Dauphin my boy, my boy, cessez. Let him trot by.”
