an audience with the beav

KITTENS!  CAN YOU BELIEVE IT?  THE NIGHT FINALLY CAME.  The Steven ‘Beaver’ Menzies Tribute Dinner.   A night that is Notable and Important if for no other reason than because opportunities as good as this for embarassing yourself in a spectacular fashion in front of favourite sportsmen or celebrities don’t come along very often and a bitch has to take advantage of them when they do.

And if Kiki’s blog didn’t fully explain how excited we were to ask the Beav for a hug (we did, and he obliged), I think I can sum it up by saying this: our girl Kiki was early.  

[Sitting by yourself all dolled up in a hotel lobby = hello I'm a prostitute! You guys couldnt get there soon enough - K]

I would also like to point out my mammoth effort to be there: I actually wore makeup and proper shoes.  HIGH HEELS, EVEN.  I HOPE YOU APPRECIATED IT BEAVER.  If that didn’t mean more to him than all the accolades from Arko and Gus then I wash my hands of him.

And when we trotted on into the dinner – a few shampoos under our belts for courage and fancy handbags under our arms (something about a Beaver dinner just said MONGRAMMED DIOR to us, you know?) – we weren’t disappointed.  Beaver!  Lyons!  Toovey!  Eagles Angels! Gouldy! Mini cheesecake! Free Beaver books!

Excuse me if I have to sit down for a moment.  I’m a tad overexcited.  Free stuff gets me that way.  (You know they say thriftiness is next to godliness.  Or something).

And I know how eager you have all been for updates, so shall we walk through it in point form?  We can pretend each one is one of the free CDs John Hopoate took home for his kids.  Score for the Hopoate family!

* First, I have to ask some Very Important Questions.

The singing.  This doesn’t happen very often, but I was kinda speechless for a moment when a live singer was ushered onto the stage to sing the national anthem.  Is this normal?  Really?  To have to stand up in your suits and cocktail dresses and sing for two minutes before you’re allowed to get your seafood entree?  Is it cause it’s a FOOTBALL dinner?  You have to sing the anthem as though you’re at a game? 

If there’s anything more awkward than that I have NO IDEA what it is.

On the other hand, I am ALL FOR the auction prizes.  One of which was a silver headgear.  Oh yes, a cast of the Beaver’s headgear in antique silver.  I am dead.  Dead from laughter.  If I had that I think my life would be complete.  I’d charge $5 a pop for people to come and see my antique silver footy headgear.  That kinda thing goes right into the pool room.

* We also have a few thanks to make:

To the crowd in general for kindly not lynching me or our BFF and newly-appointed Errol publicist Marlo when they found out we are Roosters supporters.  So welcoming!  WELU MANLY!

To Reg Reagan, for passing on the name of his VB suit tailor to me.  I am all over that idea.  And I have no doubt my employers will be all over me turning up in a red and green logoed pencil skirt suit.  Faaabulous, non?

To Anthony Watmough, for not clocking any of us when we announced to him that he had a TERRIBLE game last week.  We mean it with love.  

To David Williams, for not placing restraining orders on us when we explained to him in great detail that his brother is our oft-naked intern and we have made him our patron saint (complete with enthusiastic re-enactment of patron saint woodchopping pose).  Oh no, we’re not creepy at alllll. 

We would like to thank Dave for the numerous hugs also.  Bitch gives good cuddle.

[Also for letting me stroke his beard while I purred like a kitten - K]

* Apology notes of the e-variety go to:

Matt Ballin: we ill-advisedly pointed out to him that he is a lucky nominee this year for an Errol for hottest bitch in league.  Poor little kitten.  He was baffled, and slightly scared.  I could see in his eyes that he just really wanted Steven to hurry the fuck up so they could grab the car and head home (they carpooled! I am dead!)  Imagine if we’d spilled that he also personal trains us all, complete with excessive hamstring stretching.   He may have had a stroke.

Matty Johns: you looked terrified of us, but fear not.  We’re not court-order creep-into-your-house-while-you-sleep skin-suit crazy (we’re far too lazy for anything like that).  We’re just your garden variety drunken eccentrics who enjoy accosting strangers.  No need to spend any money on upping your personal security details just yet darlin.

[The Beav - Sorry for not only giving you an Errol card and yelling I'VE BEEN OBSESSED WITH YOU SINCE I WAS 14 then nuzzling your shoulder, but then coming back repeatedly to make sure you still had the card in your pocket. And making you show me before I would leave you alone. Sorry x 1000 - K]

Aww Kizzy.  I think if you can do that to anyone, surely it’s the beav?

* We also want to send some love to our most favouritest people of the night:

De Bortoli.  Naturally.  That was some heartwarming sparkling wine.  I am certain I drank more than my $250 dollars’ worth.  And the mild headache today is totally worth it.  I had a bacon and egg roll and it fixed me right up.

Cliff Lyons – still rocking that mo.  Why fix what ain’t broken?

Suyin - as if she wasn’t fabulous enough in her tasselled minidress, she interrupted Beaver’s heartfelt speech thanking her “… for six years of happiness” with “IT WAS SEVEN!” from the crowd.  Needless to say, we’re a little bit in love.  Also with Wendy Harmer.

And Alex ‘Big Al’ Ma, who completely won our hearts.  Surely he is the most dedicated Manly supporter a girl could ever meet - he never even misses an away game.  Not even in Auckland.  Going to New Zealand for a team you love?  Might as well chop off a leg!

What a legend.  Also hilarious and adorable.  We’re not surprised though, to be honest big Al.  Not now we’ve met your parents – who are equally fabulous (hi Al’s mum and dad!)

I especially enjoyed the look on your mama’s face when she asked if we were footy players girlfriends and we answered in unison GOOD GOD NO.

We don’t shag footy players!  We just mock them on the internets thankyouverymuch!

* Fear not, we didn’t disappoint in the embarassing stakes either, kiddies.  How could you think we ever would?  We are always vaguely drunk and inappropriate.  We like to think it’s part of our charm.  Eh, it helps us sleep at night.

Kiki fell on the forgiving Suyin in a spectacular fashion - exposing the mammoth ladder up the back of her stockings – then pleaded sobriety.  IT WAS THE SHOES!  No one ever believes that.  

[ It was godamnit!! I'm not used to wearing heels! I also told her I'm so glad the Beav didn't marry some heinous gold digger and now I can rest easy knowing my hero has found himself a good woman. She seemed pleased/slightly creeped out - K] 

Craig Hancock ruffled my fro and announced to probably every former Manly great in attendance that I feel like a sheep.  Special.

I attempted to walk through a window, thinking it was a door.  Worst of all, I hadn’t even had a drink at that stage.  And because we hadn’t made sufficient spectacles of ourselves between seven and midnight, Kiki and I ended the evening with an impromptu Penny Lane dance across the shiny white floors of the Sofitel foyer. Shoeless.

We listen to the wind, to the wind of our soulssssss ….

* And last, but most certainly not least - the highlight of my entire evening.  You thought it would be the Beav, didnt you?  Well he is unparalleled in his loveliness.  He also gives great hug.  And his speech did make me cry – twice. (But then Phil Gould also made me cry.  I think Nick the Greek sitting next to me may have laughed at my weeping, and I don’t really blame him.  I just have a lot of feelings).

Tyra would not be pleased with my fierce face. NOT ENOUGH NECK!

Well the honour goes to Billy Birmingham.  Sorry Beav.  You didn’t tell us we were FIERCE, but the twelfth man seems to think we are.

He said fierce?  Yes, yes he did.  Does that mean he watches America’s Next Top Model?  I like to think yes.  I like to think he follows the time old ritual of spending Tuesday night sitting on the couch with Sushi Train takeaway and a beer painting his nails and bitching about how fabulously delusional Tyra is and which of the competitors may or may not be a man. 

Everyone does that, right?

[Billy was the highlight of my night too. He enjoyed our story about 'one time we had hot boys in our hotel room and we made them listen to Boned instead of making out'. He said THAT IS THE GREATEST THING I'VE EVER HEARD. We love you Billy! - K]

Thanks for the memories, Beav.  Kiss kiss.