The SuperBeau plane is back on the tracks

SuperBeau fans,

I'm back. Did you miss me?

It's been a tough couple of weeks.

I'll be the first to admit that after my glorious prime time debut, I suffered a case of 'second week syndrome'. Kind of like Daniel Mortimer, but I'm better looking (and my first week was better than his).

Sometimes its hard for the average Joe to comprehend just what life in the public glare is like.

Like Jarryd Hayne, I sometimes struggle to live up to the constant burden of mammoth expectation which surrounds everything I think, say or do.

Like Daniel Fitzhenry, I sometimes feel that I'm running aimlessly around in circles.

And like Mel Gibson, I'm very fucking particular about the proper preparations for having a jacuzzi.

Sometimes I wonder whether it is all worth it.

But then I look at the burgeoning stats for this blog (10,000 hits this week, rounding up to the nearest 10,000) and I remember why I got into this business in the first place. That is, to get really fucking offensively famous. And thanks to you, I'm almost there.

Still, even the awesome-est amongst us need to relax sometimes. So I'm taking a weekend off to recharge by fishing in the TigerBoat, and drinking from the TigerFridge. And then its back full-time to part-time blogging. Strap yourselves in.

It's a bird. It's a plane.

Hello world. SuperBeau here.

I've established this blog due to the public's insatiable appetite for more information about the luminescent orange character which graced the television screens all across the eastern seaboard of Australia at approximately 11:13:46pm last Friday night (9:21:38pm in the aptly-named "Queensland").

For those of you who haven't seen it yet, here's the screenshot that tells a thousand words (it would have told even more if you could have seen what I'm wearing below fence level):

How good do I look?

But hold on, SuperBeau. Back the fuck up for a second. Tell the people how your alluring screen presence came to be beamed into the homes of millions of Australian sports fans.

Well, it started like this. Me and close friend SuperFitzy (that's him in the black) were enjoying a few Friday night beverages at our Leumeah local when we got the call from the footyfootyfooty boys - mates of ours from way back - who were making the trek out to Campbelltown Stadium for the Wests Tigers' clash with the Titans. A few hours and about three hundred schooners later we for some reason agreed to demean ourselves by appearing in public at the footy holding a shameless and desperate bit of advertising for someone else's website ON TELEVISION sitting next to some douchebag in a Parramatta jersey. WTF?

Fortunately, as you can see, we were looking resplendent in orange and black for our national television debut.

The fans loved us, obviously. To all those families that pulled us aside for photos with their kids, I meant what I said on the night - send me a signed self addressed envelope with a copy of the photo and $25 and I'm more than happy to sign an autograph for little Johnny. Never let it be said that SuperBeau isn't a man of the people.

Also, to the 70 or 80 guys who pointed to my crotch and commentied that it must have been a cold night, a big thankyou for your concern. It's nice to know that even tall poppies like me have the people looking out for them.

The Tigers managed to scrape home for another stylish win too, despite the absence of inspirational two-tries-against-Canberra hero Beau Ryan and the strange decision by the SuperCoach to leave Daniel Fitzhenry benched for 80 minutes (SuperFitzy was suitably distraught).

There are some serious staffing issues at Campbelltown Stadium though. Firstly some guy in in ridiculous, totally O-T-T Tigers suit kept harassing us for a photo. And then the sideline security patrol kept insisiting that while the 'Beau Knows footy footy footy' sign was attractive and well thought out, the fact that we kept using it to obstruct the signage of sponsors who actually pay the Tigers money was a problem. Sure, MKB is good and everything, but do the guys who run the MKB blog - whoever they are - actually wear spandex is public? I don't think so!

Security Guard One: Look mate, I've warned you twice already, if you put that sign over the fence one more time I'm going to have to ask you to leave.

SuperBeau: What if I do it two more times?

Security Guard One: Oh look, we've got a comedian on our hands.

SuperBeau: I'm here all week.

Secuirty Guard One: Look mate, just don't put the sign up again.

SuperBeau: I'm not really here all week you know. That was a joke.

SuperFitzy: GET ON THE NOZZLE!!

Security Guard One shrugs and walks off.

SuperBeau: (aside) fat fuck.

Security Guard One: who said that?

SuperBeau points to Security Guard Two.

However these were just small bumps on the road to greatness, treated with the same disdain with which Taniella Tuiaki used to treat 80kg white defenders when making a detour on his way to the tryline so that he might run over them and grind their faces in the dirt.

All up, it was a reasonably sucessful first outing. Having whetted the public's appetite I now feel compelled to hang around here for a while and give you all some glimpses into the life of SuperBeau. It's only fair. So have a read of the SuperBeau CV and check back here for updates, which I'll endevour to post during periods not characterised by extreme drunkenness or (and?) incarceration.

Love,

SB