StarkThe squad touched down in Melbourne at some ungodly hour of Saturday morning. The sun was nowhere to be seen. The terminal building was busy though, with a number of flights arriving and departing at the c***k of dawn. The heat of Dubai, the pleasant warmth of Beirut and the sunshine in London hadn’t prepared Jarrod for the biting wind and horizontal rain that lashed the windows of the terminal. The players were joking with each other how it was good to be home; Jarrod, though, knew that it was no joke. The reality of early spring at Tullamarine Airport was a reminder that it wasn’t all thongs and barbies in Australia.
The players raced through the five metres of weather to board their bus right in front of the terminal building. A lone photographer was there in his wet weather gear
