Going, going... gone.

Once again we find ourselves with all kinds of football sadness today. And please do not be telling us to cheer up just because there's a whole extra grand final this year. That provides no solace. No solace at all. None. Zero. Zip.

So, clearly we need a little something to distract ourselves. Preferably something a little word nerdy. A little list-based - because we do love a list.

Thank goodness for a lovely long list of supernatural collective nouns because everyone loves a collective noun.* Don't they?

Do we feel better now? No, not really. What do you suppose the collective noun for cats without a coach or a favourite son** might be?

***

If anyone has any distracting items that might help us shake these football blues, please send them, post haste.

* Thanks to Bookshelves of Doom for helping us find this wonderful distraction in our hour of need.

** Perhaps this was why it happened - maybe all those years of being called the favourite son convinced Gaz that his calling was to be among other Suns.

***Photo shamelessly swiped from Virginia, whose vision is probably too blurred with tears to notice.