Mate, you know I learnt to bottle it. Learnt the hard way - school of hard knocks - like they call it. And I knew what I didn’t want to do. What I didn’t want to be. Who I didn’t want to be like. They were rough my mob.

I got into fights - a lot of fights. And there’s not one I came out of feeling like “yeah that was good”. Not one. I can fight. Let me tell you. Yes. I can fight. But every time - every single time, when it was done, I’d cry. You might think I’m soft or snaggy but the truth is, the burn of violence, the absolute feeling of being out of control, that stings more than any broken nose or collarbone.

I had to make myself who I am. I had to look - really search - for the man I wanted to be. No decent role models around me - sorry bloody lot.

So I did and I have and I am - I am a man invented. Don’t get me wrong. I feel the rise of rage - starts in my guts. But I know the cost is way higher if I get out of control. I’ve learned to bottle it - put a lid on it - and let it simmer down and go away.

So far - so far it’s been good. But if anything or anyone got between me and my missus or between me and my kids - that would be the test. That would be the big test. That’s not a day I would ever wish for. I reckon though - I reckon that’s normal right? A normal way for anyone to feel, invented man or not. I think I’m pretty normal these days - for a man invented.

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