David Wilson, of our partner site The Footy Almanac, writes of shifting youthful dreams: beach, cricket, a girl. And a dose of Paul Kelly.
The difference in our tastes in music would be the rock our relationship perished on.
Darren 'Smokie' Dawson On the road heading north, any January, 2000 – 2010Whether it was a longer summer sojourn to Coolangatta, or a Sunday winter's day-trip to Daylesford, it was tacitly accepted, unspoken, that when the key went into the ignition, Our Sunshine was to blast out from the speakers.
Andrea Gillum Melbourne Cricket Ground, Saturday, March 14, 2009We streamed into the MCG that day as strangers from our own streets and towns. We left there, sodden and knackered, but together.
Vin Maskell Eureka Hotel, Geelong. Late 1981Can a fan be a journalist? Can a journalist be a fan? I found out I was just a groupie, with a notepad and a pen.
Brutas Mudcake Fairfield train station, 2007Walking home from Fairfield station not long after Penny called it quits, Josh Pyke’s Private Education came on my iPod.
Stephen Andrew Somewhere along the Hume Highway, summer of 1982I catch myself staring too long at the sunlight on her hair, or laughing too loud at one of her jokes, and feel the sharp pierce of an unbridgeable distance.
Brutas Mudcake Rye foreshore, summer of 1988/89Seven years old, and I’d entered the orbit of popular culture and had an entrée to what was as the epitome of cool, teenager-dom.
Fiona Price Family room, New Year's Day, January 1987As midnight struck, I stepped onto the patio and breathed in 1987. The tiles were still warm beneath my fourteen-year-old feet, but the New Year's air had the simmering cool of night after a hot summer's day.
Vin Maskell Christmas Hills, Victoria, 16 December 1979It took two hot hours to get to Christmas Hills but Grub didn’t mind. He loved driving and he loved music. He could hear music in the hum of an engine.