How to champion the cause and person of Rob

If you're wondering how to join the increasing number of homosapiens who wish to champion the cause and person of Rob, the following true story may inspire you and plant an idea that may grow into an enormous tree that has placards nailed to its plethora of limbs, each screaming 'Go Rob, Go Rob':
Michelle and I were invited to Rob and Charlie's to enjoy some cheese and the classic board game called Risk (which incidently, or maybe not so incidently to this blog, Rob won clearly and honestly within three rounds, and which incidently, he was so humble in winning, that I had to point out to him that he had won the game... without which, he would have happily carried on playing the game, permitting some lesser being (yae, even me) to 'win'). So invitation recieved, I promptly forgot said invitation, and, as the sun was setting on that glorious day, asked Michelle: "what are we up to tonight darling?" (for she is worthy of such a title, since she is related to Rob through marriage). Said she: "We're going to Charlie's tonight"

Said I: "I'm going to Rob's tonight" - a clear case of championing the cause and person of Rob from the tranquility of one's own home. Go forth then minions, champion him; you knew why, today you know how. Champion him - for his name is Rob.

Further Proof that Rob deserves Championing

Said I to Rob: "Sorry for being short on the phone today."
Said Rob: "I didn't realise you were being short, I'm not that intuitive."

Champion. Rob's radar doesn't pick up nasty; he just lets that big ol' warship sail right on by without taking a blow or firing a shot in retaliation. You see, warships are made for war, but when those you seek to engage in a bit of that age old game called battle simply refuse to acknowledge or, in this case, fail to see the warship at all, then suddenly the mighty warship becomes redundant. Or easily victorious. But that's not helpful to my arguement.
May I present to you Rob, your (irish accent) Warship: terrible in the crow's nest, blissfully unaware of his peace-making abilities.

The Encore

Few people realise that Rob usually gets by with an acknowledgement of half his person; for indeed, his full name is Robert - an additional three letters that, if as potent as the first three, may set this man a little lower than the angels, and a little higher than the mighty garden gnome. Perhaps the three letters that make up 'ert' are best left to their own devices; but I believe their existence deserved highlighting. Clearly a complex fellow, this Rob. ert.

The person of Rob

Compare the following two recipes:

Recipe 1
Three ingredients:
Rob, wheelbarrow, ute load of dirt.

Outcome:
The hole in Rob's backyard is now considerably smaller.

Recipe 2
Two ingredients:
Wheelbarrow, ute load of dirt.

Outcome:
Dirt stays on ute, ute rusts, disappears in a pile of corrosion.

Important conclusion:
Rob = champion/ute saver.