Loughton a shining light in dark days
WELL, the valkyrie Brünnhilde is 19 minutes into Götterdämmerung and the sun looks like it has set on the Taipans’ chances to make the finals.
From erupting Venezuelan volcanoes and half a dozen knife-edge losses to a quarter of the roster swapping their Jordans for moon boots, it’s been one of the most challenging and frustrating seasons to grace us for a while.
The road to the championships is always uphill, steeper still for regional teams, and this year that hill was made of custard. But it’s not all negative. In fact, there’s a bright flowing beacon of hope: one man’s battle against Father Time and the ever-approaching grasp of entropy.
That man is Alex Michael Loughton.
Al has been a spiritual leader of Orange Country for a while now, but few expected him to be one of the leading on-court presences this year after spending last season at the back of the fridge.
At the ripe old age of 34, Al turned back time and found a way to have one of the best seasons of his career.
He’s once again become the offensive force the Taipans call on in times of 25 per cent shooting, and has catapulted himself into Boomers contention.
When he retires in the next 25 years, his jersey will be carried into the rafters by a choir of angels to be with the other beatified servants of the orange cloth.
Al, the Orange Army salutes you; along with every 34year-old man who still has an NBL dream (despite being 5ft 10 and made of pudding).
May your fists keep pumping and the sweet jumper keep dropping.
Father Time can wait.