I’ve always lusted after you.
You know that, you’ve read my letters, smelt my intent and let me carry on as a horny fool around you.
I think you know by now that my lust is pure and right, not some sort of passing fad. It has lasted for years.
This was my first trip inside you, and I didn’t like it. I felt like for years you had given everyone else the good stuff, and I was left with just a hollow shell, not the Gabba I always wanted.
For years I have watched as many people have been with you, and I thought that when I finally did, it would be one of my finest moments. It wasn’t.
You were boring, to be honest.
Perhaps we didn’t have the chemistry that I expected, it could have been too much anticipation, but you just didn’t give me what I wanted.
You see, for years when others have been with you, you’ve had energy, spin, swing, bounce and fun.
I just assumed you’d do the same when I was there.
Instead I got some grass clippings and rolled concrete, not really what you’d want after 22 years of fetishizing your surface.
You left me wanting much more, now I have to go to Adelaide, which I’ve never felt any love for and hope it can field the massive void you have left.
Flat wickets do nothing for me, you could have won me over for ever, but no, you had to put out this stupid imitation Gabba wicket, and now I am forced to look elsewhere.
You’ll always be the one I wanted to get with and never quite did, maybe one of the other three will take your place, or I’ll just roam the globe looking for some place to do for me what I hoped you would.
Goodbye, Gabba, I thought you’d be the one, now I realise you are just part of my past.
Somethings are greater in your mind than in reality.