The end of an innings for one of my great loves

With a few exceptions (including, it must be said, my brilliant husband), my track record with fellas hasn't been all that fabulous over the years.

Some blokes I've taken a fancy to have had minor issues. There was one with poor grooming habits and personal hygiene, one who supported the Dockers and another who drove a Hyundai Excel.

Others have had bigger issues. There was the one who is now gay, and another with drug induced anger management issues. 

One of my biggest weaknesses when it comes to men is that I have often been misguided in my loyalty.

Never was there a man that I was more loyal to than Shane Warne.

I was about 14 when I was first captivated by Warnie.

When he'd appear in the lounge room of our Miami holiday house a buzz would go through the room. Whether it was just me and Dad in front of the Rank Arena or a house full of holiday makers visiting for afternoon beers, the excitement was palpable.

He wasn't just a cricketer, he was a showman and I was in love.

It wasn't, obviously, just his cricketing prowess that sucked me in. He was a spunk then with bleach blonde hair and a bit of bling in his ear. I also really loved the fact that his diet consisted of baked beans and fags. What a man.

At the height of my Warnie mania I found out he was signing copies of his book in the City. My Dad wrote me a note to excuse me from a school excursion so I could go and get my book signed. I guess Dad thought giving me permission to meet Warnie was better than me wagging school to go to the beach?

I met Warnie, had my booked sign, my photo taken and went home on cloud 9. Thinking back on that meeting years later I was slightly miffed there was no untoward advances made in my direction.

Through the years, through the scandals, from diuretics to text messages and extramarital affairs, my candle for Warnie may have waned a little but, it was never extinguished completely.

That was until yesterday when a cold bucket of water was tipped right over said flame.

Yesterday I discovered the attached photo of the newly dubbed "Scrawny Warnie."

It is perhaps the long overdue end of what has been one of the great loves of my lifetime.

Thanks for the memories Warnie.

Now bugger off, I can no longer look at you.