I want to set the record straight.

I want to end the speculation.

I am not, and I stress this, I am not tall.

While I'm at it I wish to add that I have a Big nose.
Not huge but certainly prominent.

My feet, well, they're decidedly unattractive.

There you go.

I've unburdened myself. Publicly.

And just how many of you care?

Exactly. no-one.

Because it's not interesting. you tuned in for a broadcast, not a borecast.

Similarly, I have no interest in the boudoir activities of league players.
Clandestine or otherwise.

I don't care if he's a left footer, unless he is a left footer , and he's swung onto it and pinged one from outside fifty.

I'm here for the footy.

Footy straight up barman, hold the vice.

More and more I miss the missive that less is more, more or less.

Enough is enough, but this is too much! too much information!

Too much minutiae, ephemera, and trivial and trite tidbits

Trying to tempt and tantalize. I don't care. I don't want it.

The only information I need from inside a players shorts is whether he's got a groin, or whether it's osteo (sic).

Just because some bloke built an information super highway doesn't mean we have to go ten blocks out of our way to use it.

The shortest distance between two points is a straight line so for goodness sakes don't fiddle about on the flanks, go straight up the guts!

League, exercise some control ..we just want footy. Take the tabloid taste tainters to task. Put a lid on the unsavoury and salacious saucepan before the watched pot boils dry right out of the frying pan and into the mire.

Come on Andrew, the game's the thing!

Use your influence, however unmoustachioed.

Hassle the hacks hawking histrionic headline hubris.

Footy will never be squeaky clean, but leave us out of the freaky scene!

I'm Billy and I'm boiling.