Yes you Pommy sandwich eaters, it was a corker of a battle and oath it looked like thirsty work out on the water. We had to take a break at 4.30pm while ‘Cartons’ Carter had an emergency trip to the dunny to siphon the python but the boys were back at it right until sundown. All eyes were on Carter for the verdict but he’s lower than a snake’s belly in a wheel rut and left us in the lurch to go walkabout to catch the bottle shop before closing for a splash of the old amber nectar and put a bet on at the bookies, he’d bet on two flies crawling up a wall that bloke! Back at Stone’s pad in Gerro, local shaper and Jaeger’s dad, Mark Stone, loaded up the barbie with chook and snaggers. I was so hungry I could have ate the hoof of a dead donkey. My stomach reckoned my throat was cut and my belly button was stuck to my backbone. The boys waited for Carter to get his act together and announce the result. He was looking as sharp as a bowling ball, that lazy pom thinks manual labour is a Spanish bullfighter. He couldn’t pick the skin off a rice-pudding, so we checked his score card and I tell ya, he must be as blind as a welder’s dog as he couldn’t see the pride of Australia, Jaeger Stone had won and called it a draw and announced a sudden death replay at Margaret River on the following weekend!