After a newborn-baby-boy enforced layoff over the past couple of weeks, the Captain is back! No signs of boganism yet from my little fella, let's call him Son of Captain, something to be thankful for there. I'm pleased to report that swimming as a career path has been ruled out due to his hatred of being bathed, which is great because swimming is bat-shit boring and there's fuck all money in it. My plan for him is definitely tennis; World No. 1, all four Grand Slams, spearheading the Aussie Davis Cup tilt etc. The little guy is already showing some early ability:
Son of Captain showing a solid technique, even at just two weeks of age...The added bonus with tennis is the lack of boganity in the sport. It will give him an escape from going to Brisbane Broncos matches with his bogan school friends. I've been ironing out my own technique over the last few months in preparation of becoming a supercoach/tennis dad. Just don't skimp on the fish mofo or I'll smash your fucking camera to pieces asshole...Should be nice, travelling the world, hanging out with former tennis legends, smashing cameras/phones, lying down in protest in the middle of the Flushing Meadows carpark, accusing umpires of cheating, psyching out opponents in the locker room...
I'll be in my element..........
