In fact, I haven’t missed the first day of the New Year’s Test since Lillee and Thomson tore through the Englishmen during the 1974-75 Ashes series.

But my word, how times have changed.

In those days a group of us would each buy a slab of “Cold Gold” cans, pour them into a garbage bin full of ice and plonk ourselves on the famous Sydney Cricket Ground hill for a wonderful day of cricket.

There we would sit for anything up to eight hours, drinking in the blazing sun.

The attire was easy – Speedos and a beach towel – we didn’t wear a hat (because it would mess up your long hair) and baby oil was our sunscreen!

And there was no such person as a security guard either.

Ah! The memories.

Naturally, there was the odd problem when a few of the natives got restless, but usually that would be sorted out fairly quickly and everyone got back to the job at hand, namely, drinking yourself into oblivion.

Chants of “Lil-lee, Lil-lee”, can and food fights, a few brawls, several smart-alec comments, pitch invaders and female streakers all added to the day’s entertainment.

After the cricket it was back to the pub, then home for a quick shower and out again to chase girls and have more drinks until daylight.

Of course, we drove everywhere because there was no such thing as random breath testing.

As long as you didn’t hit anything, or anybody, all was well with the world.

After a few hours of sleep it was back in the car for the long drive back to Wagga.

The trip home was usually far more sedate than the trip up.

That journey often consisted of a carton of beer, a pizza or burger at Goulburn and a few schooners at the historic Berrima Inn.

Back then the Hume Highway was little more than a goat track and the drive took all day.

Thankfully, I’m a little wiser now. But unfortunately, I’m older as well.

However, I do realise how lucky I was to survive those times because many didn’t.

Talk about living on the edge, but I loved every minute of it.

You can’t live your life wrapped in cotton wool but I admit they were dangerous days.

Next week I will again enjoy my cricket, particularly as I will be in a private box.

No doubt it will certainly be a far more dignified affair than my days on “the hill”.

And all I can say about that is – THANK GOD!

Have a happy new year everyone.