Sydney doesn’t do weekends but if it did...

9.15am. Monday morning. With an 11 hour working day ahead of me all I can do is look back on the weekend and ask, was it worth it?

Simply put...HELL YES!!

Those of you who work full time know and dread the feeling of a weekend wasted, when you get to Sunday evening with another week of work looming and you ask yourself – did I really make the most of my time off or did i just sit around the apartment scratching (note – everyone needs a weekend like that every now and again)? So with that in mind, coming towards the end of last week we started putting the wheels in motion for a weekend fuelled by testosterone/beer/sport and an all round general disregard for personal health and/or hygiene.

First on the cards was our inaugural trip to the races out in Rosehill Race course – a chance for us to put the flipflops and boardies away and dust off the tailor made thai suits, double cuffed shirts, heels and hats that make a day at the races that more legitimate. The day kicked off with pre drinks and food out in the wild west of Toongabbie with The Firm (still brimming after our breakout win last Tuesday) and then off to Rosehill to try our hand at a touch of gambling. Of course as soon as we got there, with the sun blazing and the beers cold we soon forgot about trying to figure out how the hell the odds work and instead did what we do best – banter off randomers! Gareth got engaged, Paul got judgemental and I came out of the closet to give you a flavour of the fun! Over the course of the day we probably only saw about 3 horses, as opposed to many, many Toohies. The only problem with starting drinking that early is it throws your scheduled drinking behaviour timeline way out of whack – come 6.30pm we were getting our late night kekab thirst and so made the pilgrimage to our local kebab dealer for a greasy feast. Post kebab the familiar stupor of sleep washed over us..what rockstars....

Sunday’s sport and beer schedule had a more ambitious look to it...

0630 – Tea Gardens for a microcosm of home – big screen, drunken Irish and a long shot hope of producing a decent result in a football game (pints optional)

0900 – Home cooked Irish breakfast of sausages, eggs, beans, toast and tea to wash down the bitter but inevitable defeat to the French (Leon Best? Really??)

1200 – Two-on-two touch football to try and sweat some of the toxins out of our bodies

1400 – Back to the Tea Gardens for the Cotto – Pacquiao fight (pints less optional)

1600 – Steaks in the Eastern (pints mandatory)

2100 – Off licence and left over sausages from breakfast...the warm up to the rugby begins (power naps for the weak)

0200 – Ireland vs Australia rugby game...important for bragging rights around Sydney (a draw helps NO-ONE!)

0400 – Pass out in any corner comfortable enough with dreams of Paddy Wallace getting struck down by some foul disease which will prevent him from ever playing international rugby again

0830 – Work....

So while I sit here figuring out how best to maximise stealth naps in the bathroom/storage room I’m delighted to have squeezed every possible minute out of a sunny weekend in Sydney.

(sidenote...medically whats the most amount of redbull you can drink in 11 hours? I’ve had a rather worrying twitch for two hours now post third can...)