I can’t think of many things more satisfying to the soul (or whatever) than:-
- All your enemies (and friends) dying before you – you win;
- Holding two fingers up to the world by opting out in the manner of Keith Murdoch, the 1970s All Blacks prop forward who, sent home from a tour of Wales, stepped off a plane in Australia, rather than New Zealand, and submerged himself in anonymity until his recent death, aged 74. And, don’t you know, it fairly drove nosey bastards near insane trying to get a handle on his behaviour. He never would oblige them with an explanation. Good for him, I say. He won.
So, here’s to the demise, before you, of everybody you know! And here’s to awkward, enigmatic, couldn’t give a fuck diamonds like Keith Murdoch!