It was on the big soul discovery fight. What had started as a bit of a slug fest had turned into a full on bar room brawl. Brophy’s boy had thrown a right hook that would blow the froth off your milk. Bluey copped it on the cheek and was down. Next thing you know Brophy’s boy is copping a chair over the back of the head and a pool cue in his less than manicured guts. There was no soul or love in this stick. Bluey and his mates were in town for a good time not a long time and were obviously looking for trouble.
But it appears they picked the wrong blokes. Brophy’s boy gently removed the pool cue from his stomach lining, got up from under the bar stool and took a swipe at Bluey that sent him into next week. It was over, and Bluey will be licking his wounds for a while and nursing a bruised ego and soul.