State of Origin 2009 QLD v NSW

[The Piper]

F7s STATE OF ORIGIN 2009
Queensland Maroons v New South Wales Blues

Titanic v gorilla

V

This is a game thread only, therefore only game-related posts can be made here. Any other posts may result in loss of points and is at the discretion of the referee.
Captains must post their entire team (including reserves) before posting and only those players listed may play this round.
Only original articles, not used in previous games, will be marked by referees.

REP Match rules
5 posts per team.
Teams allowed 3 reserves each.
Total (including reserves): 8 players per team.
Rules of play: http://f7s.leagueunlimited.com/rules.php

Full Time: Wednesday 17th June at 9:00PM (SYD TIME)

Venue: The Front Row Stadium

REFEREE: The Colonel

*Blows time on*

Click here to access the F7s official word counter

 

[Titanic]

The 2009 Queensland Maroons F7's Team

Starting

Amadean
Azkatro
madunit
miccle
Titanic

Reserves

broncos_warriors_storm
Mr. Fahrenheit
tits&tans

 

[Willow]

After slapping on copious amounts of Brylcreem, the mighty Blues have arrived at The Front Row Stadium...

NEW SOUTH WALES...! NEW SOUTH WALES...!

Dave Q (Rabbitohs)
Non Terminator (Roosters)
bartman (Eels)
Jason Maher (Dragons)
Willow (vc) (Bluebags)

Res:
Black Kitty (Bluebags)
byrne_rovelli_fan82 (Rabbitohs)
gorilla (c) (Bluebags)

Good luck one and all.

 

[madunit]

madunit for Queensland

The Hiking Trip

Okay boys, today we will be climbing to the top of Mount Premiership. You should all have your navigation equipment, appropriate clothing and food packed. So lets go!

After an hour there are some boys missing from the group.

Where’s Jason?
Bellamy: Don’t know, don’t care
Now Craig that’s not very nice. (Mobile phone rings)
“Hello?”
Taylor: Hello, it’s Jason
“Jason, where are you?”
Taylor: I got lost.
“There’s only one track, and it has hand rails all the way, how could you get lost? Where are you?”
Taylor: I don’t know, it looks like a dark room
Hasler: The idiot went to the cellar last night to get some food, he hasn’t come out yet. Damnit there’s always someone stuffing up my plans!
Settle down Des. We’ll wait here until Jason catches up. Where’s Tim?
Taylor: He’s just outside, he’s hungry.
“Well he has some crackers, why doesn’t he eat them?”
Taylor: Because they’ve gone stale.
Sheens (in background): My bag is stuck on the cellar door, I can’t unhook it!
“You two, stay there, we’ll be back in a few hours time”
WAYNE! What did you just do to that lizard!
Bennett: I gave it CPR, poos thing looked like it had been struggling to survive for quite a while. It’s come back to life now.
That is truly remarkable.
Furner: I agree, I wish I could do that.
Who are you?
Furner: I’m David, don’t you remember?
I just haven’t seen you around Donald, have you done anything I would remember?
Furner: It’s David. On the bus here when you were doing a roll call, I poked my tongue out.
Ohhhh! Now I recall yes. Danny, have you seen John or Ivan?
Furner: They are way up there with Neil. My name is David, not Danny or Donald.
Sorry about that Damien. I had no idea they’d got away so quickly, Neil was back here just a few moments ago. Ricky, where did you just come from?
Stuart: I kinda went off course a little bit, I didn’t know which way we had to go.
We’re going north Ricky, where’s your compass?
Stuart: I don’t have one.
Why not? We’re going hiking, it is imperative that everyone has a compass.
Stuart: I couldn’t afford one.
Well stay with the group closely please. Hey, who are you?
Furner: I’m DAVID!
No not you.
Moore: He’s my friend.
You weren’t allowed to bring anyone else.
Moore: Sorry, I thought it would be okay, what difference does one extra person make?
It’s one extra person we hadn’t catered for.
Moore: Well Henjak didn’t come on the hike, so it makes no difference.
Why, where is he?
Moore: He’s sick, he couldn’t be here.
Bellamy: Oink Oink (giggles)
Moore: That’s not very nice, it’s your fault he got sick in the first place.

Another half hour passes, but an accident has seen the trek come to another halt.

Are you ok Brian?
Smith: I’m fine, just a bit gidley
Pardon?
Smith: Gidley, you know, dizzy, light headed.
Oh okay. Well just take a breather under this tree here. Where’s Brad?
Fittler: I’m up here (Sitting on a branch up in the tree)
Get down from there Brad, this is not a time for tom foolery.

Fittler starts to climb back down but slips and falls all the way down to the ground.

Fittler: Owww, that hurts!
Hasler: Stop your complaining you stupid idiot!
Anderson: Stop fighting! I’ve had enough of the fighting!
Come on boys, settle down. Let’s all sit down and have some lunch.

Henry catches up to the group and stops to rest with the others.

Neil, where have you been?
Henry: Walking along the track.
But you were right up front with John just an hour ago.
Cleary: His shoe come off.
Why didn’t you help him?
Cleary and Cartwright: (Both shrug shoulders) Dunno.
What about you Matt, why didn’t you help him?
Elliott: No one ever bothers to help me, why should I help?
That’s hardly the right attitude to have Matt.
Hasler: Yeah Matt, wake up to yourself you inconsiderate moron! I hate people like you! I HATE YOU!
Des, Calm Down!
Stuart: I wish I could afford to hate someone.
Fittler: I’m in pain here and in need of help, can someone please help me!
Everyone: Shut up!

726 words, including title

 

[Non Terminator]

Non Terminator puts on the Sky Blue in his Origin debut.
750 words under the logo.

What Interstate Football Could Look Like In 2009

Tonight on Channel Nine, it's the boys from Queensland up against the New South Welshmen in the 2009 annual interstate clash, coming to you live from Suncorp Stadium.

"This clash brought to you by Toyota, oh what a feeling!"

*cue the dramatic Channel Nine music*

Interstate football. Queensland vs New South Wales. Moments in time that cannot be forgotten.

1988: The birth of the Brisbane and Gold Coast clubs give Queenslanders the chance to play both club and state matches whilst representing their state at the highest level possible.

1995: The introduction of North Queensland and South Queensland gave the Queensland selectors the chance to choose from a greater number of players. In the end however the majority chosen for the squad were from the Broncos anyway...

1997: With the competition split in two, the Queenslanders could only pick players representing Gold Coast and South Queensland. It didn't work well for them, causing them record losses to the Blues.

2007: The induction of the Titans give the Queensland side a number of new players with eligibility to choose from, such as Scott Prince, Preston Campbell and Anthony Laffranchi.

"Ok Kenny, you're on in 3..2..1.."

Sutcliffe: Welcome all to the 2009 edition of Interstate Football here at the amazing Suncorp Stadium. A full house is waiting to witness what will be a classic, with some of Queensland's favourite sons preparing to make their debut for New South Wales. Let's go upstairs to the experts to preview this match.

*Upstairs to the commentary room*

Sterling: Yes we're all excited for this Interstate clash, of course as we know this match has gained attention with Wayne Bennett, just like the World Cup last year going up against the side he helped to built.

Vautin: Yes, Bennett's signing with the Dragons has worked wonders for the Blues but they've still got no chance against the mighty Queenslanders!

Sterling: Yes...anyway here is the Blues line-up. Stewart is at fullback with former Queensland wingers Boyd and Sailor waiting on the wings. Jennings and Hayne are the centre for this match with Barrett and Mullen pairing for the halves. The forward pack will be Gallen, Creagh and the returning Blue Michael Crocker. The front row will be Kite, Farah and former Maroon Hannant. The bench will be filled by Weyman, Myles, Gidley and Waterhouse.

Ikin: It's strange to see the likes of Boyd and Sailor in Blues colours but they'll soon learn what it's like to be a Blue here in this amazing football stadium, the best in the world I reckon.

Sterling: Well, speaking of this stadium the home side Queensland also have a strong looking side, this year to be coached by Gold Coast coach John Cartwright who won the coaching job over other candidates Ivan Henjak and Neil Henry.

Ikin: It's a shame Bennett is unavailable for the Queenslanders, but we all know where his heart will be tonight.

Sterling: Well...the line-up for the Maroons is as follows. Hunt will be the fullback with debutants John Williams and Israel Folau taking the wings. Delaney and Hodges will play at three-quarters whilst the incumbant halves pairing of Lockyer and Thurston will run the plays for the Maroons. The front row is filled by Scott, Payne and Bailey while the back rowers will be Thaiday, O'Donnell and Harrison. The bench will be Minichiello, Clinton, Campbell and Wallace.

Vautin: It's a great looking side isn't it? The Queenslanders will be striking tonight. It's great to see Brisbane signing Israel Folau from Melbourne because it finally gives him a chance to play this amazing game.

Gould: Folau probably only moved because he wanted to play interstate.

Vautin: Gus, stop trying to cause trouble.

Gould: It's an absolute sham!

Sterling: Let's go to the sideline to see how it looks with Wally Lewis.

Vautin: WALLY!

Lewis: G'day guys. The atmosphere looks like a typical Queensland atmosphere. The crowd are pumped and so are we, let's go to Ray Warren as we prepare to kick this match off.

Warren: Well, this match is about to kick-off. What a night it will be. The anthem will be played shortly. Just letting you know, TAB Sportsbet sees the Maroons starting this match at $1.60 favourites whilst the Blues will kick off at $2.30 tonight.

*The Australian national anthem plays*

Warren: And we're underway! Sailor will take the first hit-up for the Blues and OOH! That was a big hit from Bailey! Deja Vu there!

 

[bartman]

Bartman is proud to take the second hit-up for the Blues on Origin debut...

- - - - -

Watching the world go by

Some people would say that our sacred rugby league grounds have been inhabited by some very strange creatures over the years. Even those of us who have become woven into the rich fabric of rugby league over the decades – those of us who have experienced old suburban grounds and the wafting smell of sausage sandwiches on the BBQ, the crisp sound of leather boot on leather ball, and the sight of armies of carefully hand-knitted scarves and beanies in club colours – even those of us who have been immersed in the sport can sometimes take a fresh look and discover something new in the rituals of rugby league.

I like to get to games early if I can, and watch the stadium slowly fill up with people as kick-off draws near. With different kick-off times across four possible days I can’t always get here for the early game, so instead take in the build-up and atmosphere from outside the ground. There’s a lot of stuff you miss getting to your seat as gates open – the car park attendants in their fluorescent safety vests, the merchandise sellers setting up, the marketing and promotions people trying to hand out some flyer or other to passers by, and the fund-raisers trying to entreat the passing crowd to help a worthy cause.

Sitting beside me, here on these low treated pine barriers that protect the remaining patch of natural grass near the entrance to the Stadium from cars, are a mother and her two sons. The youngest son is standing waving his team flag from side to side even though nothing is happening. The oldest son is doing the same as me – people watching (except without scribbling in a notepad). It might be another 20 or so years before he gets a strange urge to try and capture as many moments in time, thoughts and emotions that he can… for now he seems content just taking in every moment as it comes, with no notion of how easily these experiences can slip through your fingers as the years go by.

To my right a car has been waved past by the car park attendants and stops at the kerb to let out an older man who strides awkwardly with a metal walking stick. He too rests for a moment on one of these treated pine barrier/seats, and takes in the steadily growing scene. He has no notebook, no pen, no flag – perhaps he has learnt more than me about life and now simply enjoys the moments he knows he has left, long ago having stopped trying to clutch and hang onto each experience, thought or feeling?

More and more people walk past me now, and people come from all directions to crowd my view of the stadium entrance. Music starts playing through the ground’s loud speakers, the pre-game atmosphere building and building. The traditional walk-up queue at the ticket window lengthens as people who made last minute decisions to attend hope to get inside before kick-off.

My dad sends me a text with the lower grade full-time score – he’s already inside waiting for me to join him at our seats. Since he’ll fill me in on every detail of the game almost minute by minute when I make it inside the gates, I don’t bother text him back. I’d told him I would be a bit late today – he’s never quite understood my occasional need for solitude, or the joy I get from quietly watching the world go by.

It’s a Monday night home game, which is strange enough in itself. A made-for-TV spectacle in the middle of winter that all of these people could watch from the comfort and warmth of their lounge room or local pub or club. But the stay-at-home people don’t get to see what I’ve had the chance to see and feel and capture tonight.

They don’t get to feel this atmosphere.

The treated pine is digging into my buttock muscles, signalling that I should get up and move around. It’s time to join my dad in our seats and cheer on our team. I’ve enjoyed my precious moments of solitude and quiet observation, and as I merge with the crowd passing through the stadium gates, I can’t help but realise that I myself am simply one more among many strange creatures taking part in these strange rituals that we've come to know as rugby league.

- - - - -

749 words

 

[Azkatro]

Azkatro for the Maroons.

---------------------------------------------------------------

The benefit of the doubt

Good day. My name is Mr. Rugby League Supporter and I have a question.

Whose idea was it to take the interpretation of rugby league referees, and to not only flush it down the toilet, but race to the sewerage plant where the grubby water was sent to, dump it into a large vat, and set it on fire?

I remember a time where many a dubious call was put down to a referee’s viewpoint of the incident in question, or just “his take” on how things went down. But at the end of the day, the credibility of the referee was not to be questioned, unless he simply made glaringly obvious mistakes, such as not knowing the rules. This approach resulted in an attitude of respect which permeated through players, officials, journalists and fans alike. Of course, the Monday morning conversations around the water cooler would include a few remarks about the referee having no idea, and various recommendations for his treatment which may have included (and was not limited to) the instalment of a canine-like creature into his person.

But the general sentiment was markedly different then. Rarely would anyone suggest a referee should be sacked, or that the rules of the game needed a complete overhaul. No, it would simply be along the lines of suggesting, perhaps a little tongue-in-cheek, that a particularly contentious decision “could have gone either way”. It was the same during a match broadcast. There was enough technology to show a replay countless times – perhaps not from so many angles or at quite the same picture quality – but enough to really underscore the incorrectness of a particular call. At worst though, one or two quick replays might be shown and the commentator in question would perhaps make a passing remark about the decision. Nowadays, even the slightest of errors will be replayed ad nauseam, accompanied by shameless ridicule of the ability of the referee (or referees) in question.

Unfortunately, the credibility of today’s adjudicators is determined by a style which flies in the face of the very nature of rugby league officiating. Forward passes, knock-ons, obstructions, double movements and stripping the ball are just a few examples of the absolute myriad of decisions a rugby league referee must make in the course of a match which are open to interpretation. Yet if they are caught attempting to apply even a smidgeon of their own analysis to any of them, they are publicly derided and quickly passed off as one of the lesser qualified whistle-blowers in the game.

It has become so ridiculous that the likes of Channel Nine’s Andrew Voss will, in the analysis of an alleged incorrect decision, produce a list of guidelines provided by the game’s administration which highlights how referees are expected to rule on certain “50-50” situations.

Oh, how I would hate to be a referee in the current climate.

That their employers are so paranoid about the perception of the media on every little judgment they make during the course of a match, they will happily provide the firing squad with a cheat sheet on how to determine whether one of their own has interpreted a ruling in an inappropriate manner.

So now we’re getting to the end of the rant, it’s time I produced something akin to a point. Why am I forcing you to listen to my contrived, outdated opinion on the officiating of rugby league? Because I, Mr. Rugby League Supporter, believe that the ‘R’ word needs to be brought back to the way we view our officials.

Respect.

We need to give referees the respect they deserve. They have been chosen as the best available and are no doubt required to go through a more stringent education than any before them. Referees today must be given the benefit of the doubt, so they can officiate with the utmost degree of confidence and self belief. The NRL should be in control of how their product is shown, so they should firmly state that during broadcasts, contentious decisions must not be replayed or downtrodden to the point of farce. This should be left to the fans and post-game analysts, and even then the key word – respect – should be closely observed at all times.

Just let the referees do their job and leave the interpretation up to them. This member of the Rugby League Supporter family just wants to watch the action, not the referees.

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747 words. Liftoff!

 

[miccle]

After five years in the F7's Origin wilderness, miccle takes charge again for the maroons

Enunciation and class: The way of the future

Flannelette jackets - Kingswoods and Toranas - mullet haircuts, handlebar moustaches and gallons of cheap, Australian non-diluted beer. The working class. The no-frills foundation of rugby league, known in the past, present and forever more as "the working man's game".

However, since then, the advent of million-dollar contracts, advertising, television deals and sponsorship, materialism has permeated our sport. Commercialism continues to dominate its evolution and branches out into every faction of society. The once union-dominated Friday night club scene has become League Land with one-time yuppie bastions such as the Regatta Hotel now recognising what the rest of us have always known.

One area that has, sadly, not changed with the times is the horrific, painful accents employed by many of our finest commentators and television talking heads who present the National Rugby League competition live into the eastern states every weekend. From the moment a "toim" takes the "foild" right through to the call of who "done good", the grammar Nazi in my head takes centre stage as I cringe with every Kath and Kim-esque comment that radiates from the commentary box.

There can be no doubt that former players and coaches of the greatest game of all can add wonderful insights into the dissection of a game for the armchair league enthusiast and for those who haven't strapped on a boot since the age of eight, just like yours truly. But surely the blatant misuse of what resembles, only vaguely at times, correctly conjugated English can do more harm than good for our game on a national and global scale.

Cringe as you recall Peter Sterling's famous "and if we freeze it here" spiel, which may have been tactically very enlightening back then, but also had the tendency to make as much sense as a polar bear skateboarding across the Nullarbor in January. Sigh in exasperation at Andrew Johns' description of how important it is to "slide when you have a big man inside you". And tear your hair out in frustration as you struggle to comprehend Laurie Spina's sideline comments on ABC Grandstand from Townsville.

Surely this rant can go no further. My intention and agenda is more clear than Phil Gould talking about the refereeing system. It's time to raise the level of rugby league's commentary with an unmistakable signature voice - one that's captivating while keeping the Queen's English thoroughly intact. Enter my personal favourite, and frontrunner for the position of the 'new voice of league', Sir David Attenborough.

Game three of the 2009 State of Origin comes to you all from the vast surrounds of Suncorp Stadium. Nestled in the northern heart of the Brisbane CBD, travellers have made the pilgrimage to this culturally important site to witness one of nature's true events.

Included amongst those taking the field tonight in the forward pack of the sky blue jerseys are Paul Testicallus-Grabbus Gallen and Kurt Decent-Atclublevellus Gidley. These two spectacular specimens are considered the lynchpins for the New South Wales team, also known by its scientific name as Fourstraight Losseth.

On the opposing side of the vast, grassy expanse tonight will be players such as Darren Retirementpackageth-Inenglandus Lockyer, and the talented Greg Canplay-Canttalk Inglis. What these marvellous specimens lack in the department of common sense and enunciation, they more than make up for in courage, tenacity and pure football fortitude. Together they form the nucleus of the attacking heart of the Queensland team, or Stilleth-Underdogus.

In a timeless display of parochialism, pride and power, each side will again look to gain dominance over the other through the use of physical force in collisions, plus elusive footwork and speed during the chase. This age-old battle has been repeated time and time again, with differing outcomes after each occasion. Regardless of the results in the near and distant past, the ongoing effort to ascertain total domination is essential to the mindset of all involved.

I may have taken a little artistic license in this over-the-top push for some refinement in our game. Many purists might label the very suggestion ludicrous, or possibly worse. But I do know that the ideas presented in this article will come back into the minds of all armchair league supporters when they next turn on their television sets for another instalment of Friday Night Football.

From here on, the cries for Sir David will begin slowly, increasing in volume and momentum until they become a crushing crescendo that the powers-that-be cannot ignore!




(746 words)

 

[Dave Q]

Dave Q for the blues:-



League Lives.

Jean Calment holds the record for being the oldest person who has ever lived. She was born 21 years B.L (Before League) and deceased in 1997 (1). That means that she was almost 40 when WW 1 kicked off and was still kicking when our own league war broke out. What she made of Ribot’s grand vision of Tibetan monks levitating themselves out of scrums in the Chinese Province of Origin ( a 200 game series that takes 5 years) is anyone’s guess.


Gul Mohammad was another one of humankind's treasures. He was the world’s shortest man. He stood a measly 73 cm tall (2). To him, the top of a rugby league corner post would have seemed much taller than the expected evidence of rogue footballer Greg Bird.

Now it’s not my intention to shock you with the extremes of humanity. That’s the purpose of the Australian entertainment magazines For mine, if our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ returned, The Women’s Fortnightly would probably run 24 pages on what he was wearing, 23 pages on how he maintained his weight over 2009 years and 23 pages on which angel he had been seen with leaving the pearly gates.

At least they wouldn’t have any disorderly and drunkard shots to humiliate Him but I suppose they could always do a touch-up.

The Son of God, Callas and the Gulmiester all share one thing in common and that was that they were people of their time. In a universe billions of years old, they did exist for a blink of an eye on earth, just like you and me.

And blinking leads us to the footy.

I could be wrong but I predict that Rugby League will not last forever in this mortal world. The odds are stacked against it. There’s a number of reasons for that. Forget naughty players, blind refs and greedy corporate bastardry. Scientists predict the end of the world and hence rugby league in at least four different ways:-

a) The planet will be pulverised by some giant rogue asteroid (we are overdue) and knocked out of orbit. We are the 8 ball in a galactic game of snooker! Don’t laugh, it has almost happened (3)

b) The sun will burn us to a crisp in 200 million years ( global immolation) (4) So don’t forget to change the batteries on your smoke detector.

c) We are entering another 12,000 year global ice-age (forget global warming, that is like turning on a toaster to melt the Antarctic). (5)

d) A giant glob of hot English mustard the size of Saturn, is going to loosen itself from its orbit near Hotdogonia, float across the solar system and give the world a lethal dose salmonella (6)

Rugby League will end, and so will the world. Everything erased, gone, zip, nah nah. The only thing that may be left is perhaps some vague memory from our evolved descendants wherever they may be living.

So can we find a truth in the game that will live beyond the age of humankind? Chances are, given the human condition, if we try to leave a legacy, because we are so hopeless as a species, we will surely fail. But there is hope....

Rugby League could produce unintended consequences for the future. For example, a piece of hotdog which slipped out from its bun in the late 1980's at Win Stadium and landed in a shrub behind the hill (ocean side) could over time, evolve and eventually morph into the most supreme physical being in the universe (8). In that case, the religious basis of the Interstellar Movement of Hotdogkind, could well owe its existence to the game.

But for the moment at least, We are stuck on this planet, stuck in this time, for better or worse, with our game of rugby league. However:-

When Jean had got to say 116, she was probably thinking that she could go for the record old age. That meant she couldn’t do risky things like look up too suddenly or move a finger too quickly. She pulled no punches.

Gul was also happy that he stood for something. When he reached 70 cms’ at age 14 he probably freaked that he would grow an extra 4 cms’ and lose the title. Imagine the pressure. People try to stretch themselves to make themselves taller, you try making yourself shorter!!

So in the whole scheme of life and everything, enjoy the game, before we all disappear!!!



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750 words above the line, including title.

References:-

1. Wiki
2. Ibid
3-5 Redorbit.com
7. "Rogue mustard dabs and their effects on alien civilisations"
by Splunted Napkin 37253 AOK, Sober Publications, 21656735 b.hd.
8. The evolution of an Indian meal was featured in Red Dwarf David Naylor

 

[Amadean]

Amadean rants on for the Maroons

700 below the bar

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New South Wales Still Gutless, Funny-Smelling


“Yeah, I love a good blond joke too mate, but have you heard the one about Trent Barrett being compared to Alfie Langer?”

Alright, fair enough, New Southern Roaches’ selectors, fans, journalists and stylists are all panicking about losing 4 series on the trot. I’d be worried too, you know, if I didn’t happen to be a QUEENSLANDER. They did the right thing by blooding a good handful of young blokes in Melbourne (“Our Children Are Our Future&#8221 and now need to reach boldly down their pants and grab whatever they can find. Unfortunately for New Southern Whales fans this will most likely consist of diaper rash, but hey, testicles must be at least a possibility.

Basically, the selectors threw a handful of talented kids into Melbourne and now look like blaming them for the loss. Campese, Wallace, Weyman and co. played bloody hard and came bloody close: not bad for colts.

If anyone should be blamed it should be the coach and captain for letting Hayne’s disallowed try get the team so thoroughly gutted. When the kids stopped sobbing the match was already past them, though they gave it a decent shot anyway. Inspiration can be fickle.

Regardless of the much-beloved-by-Newly-South-Welshfolk blame-game, there’s no value in dropping a coach or captain during a series. Injuries to McManus and Bailey leaves room for a couple of experienced heads to cover nervous gaps and that was the difference between the teams down South.

Given all this, why on God’s green earth would you bring back Barrett?

Apart from being a funny-looking twerp (the last time I saw features that oddly arranged was on Mr. Potato Head) he hasn’t played alongside or against anyone from either camp since Howard won an election. More-bloody-over, he hasn’t played competitive footy in months and even then it was against the (second dregs of humanity) Poms!

The argument seems to go: Alfie managed it, therefore Trent can manage it.

Good luck with that.

Alfie won Premiership and Origin medals as the best player on the field. He controlled matches, set plays and could bamboozle a panda. Trent, to give him his due, is a hard runner with good quick hands and an excellent short kicking game. Yes, he was pretty good, but never had the class, the game-changing genius, the perfect control, of Mal, Joey, Alfie or the King. Sydney would be Barrett’s eighth Origin match.

Campese, Wallace and even Mullen have talent and youth. They’ve the anger of losing. Above all, they could form the spine of a new dynasty for the Welsh. Knowing this and still putting in some has-almost-been with questionable hair because your speedos are full of Brazilian wax is simply wrong.

All this talk and all this cowardice is symptomatic of the worst of the Blues. In Sydney, the blame game matters. In Brisbane, beating the bastards next time takes priority.

Case in point: the ‘Wolfman’s’ pink beard. Williams has been bought into the side due to good form and an injury to the incumbent. He plans on dying his beard so the other blokes, particularly the Maroons, don’t laugh at him [according to the never-reliable Fairfax press]. Now, just pause for a second and think about this. You’ve got a professional footy player, not a small guy, altering his appearance so people won’t laugh at him. I don’t imagine he’s scared his feelings will get hurt if they do, but rather that his teammates will blame his face-fur if he misses a tackle.

If some bloke on the other team laughs at you in Origin, then you play hard and demand his respect. You go out onto the paddock and with the mindset that pink will forever after give Israel nightmares. The aim isn’t to avoid blame, its to win. It won’t affect your aerodynamic ability, just their concentration. Queensland have a bloke called Mike Hunt for crying out loud, do you see him changing his name?

David Williams, along with the Nouveau South Wails selectors needs to retain the courage of his convictions.

You may look funny in pink, or going down 4 series on the trot, but you’ll stink of cowardice otherwise.

 

[Titanic]

Titanic takes a deep breath and runs out for the Maroons. ( 749 OWC between the solid lines ).
________________________________________________________________

A reason to be

Gentlemen, let’s face it: you’re probably going to devote somewhere between 10,000 and 100,000 hours out of your life to rugby league: to playing it, talking about it, reading about it, thinking about it, writing about it and mostly just sitting around watching it.

If you devote only twenty minutes a day (and, of course, thirty on weekends) to rugby league, that’s still a solid year out of your threescore and ten. Furthermore, if you’re a fairly normal league-addled individual devoting four or five hours on Saturdays and Sundays and two hours on workdays to the great game, not counting the finals or State of Origin (when you really get serious) that’s 1,000 hours per year.

Over your average Australian male lifespan, you’ll end up giving seven to nine years to the lure of league. Believe me, that’s a lot more time than you’ll devote to the care of your children, or the care of your immortal soul, or your duties to your country, or your education, or your relationship, or just plain sex, or even eating. Only sleep and, maybe, work will consume more of your life.

So, what have you got to show for this extravagant expenditure of time? The women in your life may have asked you this already. There are, of course, the obvious aerobic benefits of rugby league, e.g., climbing up and down the stairs to your preferred grandstand seat, searching under the cushions for your remote control, etcetera and etcetera. However, I’ve a more compelling reason as to why those hours are an excellent investment.

Do you realise that, beyond those other undoubtedly convincing benefits, you’ve actually learned a remarkable amount of raw data about human nature from our game? You’ve exposed yourself to such erudite concepts as:

How people excel and how they fail…

“The strong take from the weak and the smart take from the strong.”[1]

Meninga; a great player, a diplomat but an average coach until given a team which includes the greatest backline ever assembled in one place and his arch-rival Bellamy; an average player, a taciturn individual but a great coach until given a team which includes some of the most inflated egos ever assembled in one place.
​

How they best cooperate together and how they best compete against eachother…

"It is a game before a product, a sport before a market, a show before a business."[2]

The NRL narcissist collective, where the self-professed champions of two warring factions have come together to live in relative harmony, where they disperse tantalising trinkets to their ravenous minions – the clubs, but each year when the moon is properly aligned the old rivalries re-surface with the combatants determined by time-worn geographical boundaries.
​

How people of all races can all get along…

"He is a credit to his race — the rugby league race."[3]

The great melting pot, the confluence of the major rivers of humanity that make up Australia’s potpourri society, where birthright and nationalistic pride are set aside in the interests of opportunism, where Queenslanders and New South Welshmen can become each other and where Kiwi, Papua New Guinean, Pacific Islander and in fact all other nationalities can be “Originised” by a process of creative selection.
​

What masculinity is and isn’t…

"Anyone who doesn't watch rugby league is not a real person.”[4]

The defining moment in every relationship, when gender takes a step backwards towards the neuter, is the instant your partners declare themselves by the colour they wear as they take their places in the ‘stand or on the lounge beside you just as the man in pink blows “time on”.
​

Developing a competitive edge, balancing workplace relations, embracing multiculturalism, and transcending the gender divide - these aforementioned titbits of rugby league folklore help to authenticate the commonalities embedded in our game and human nature.

Here, your well of rugby league knowledge is enormously relevant to the most controversial mass debates of this millennium, all those bitter questions revolving around race and sex and age, discrimination and quotas, gender gaps and gays in the military.

This article may (or may not) make you a better citizen. It might help you to go through life less often blindsided by unpleasant surprises. But it will certainly have improved your verbal jousting kit, especially when you’re arguing with that arrogant sister-in-law of yours. After all, you’ve already memorised 10 gigabytes of rugby league trivia, and she hasn’t ... so isn’t it time you put it to good use?
_________________________________________________________________________

[1] Jack Gibson in reply to a question about other teams copying his plays.
[2] John Quayle with regard to Ribot’s global “vision”.
[3] Ross Livermore explaining Adrian Lam’s representative conundrum.
[4] John Singleton’s slant on the facts of life.

 

[Willow]

Interchange for the Blues:

Jason Maher is out

replaced by byrne_rovelli_fan82

 

[byrne_rovelli_fan82]

byrne_rovelli_fan82 for the Blues!

~~
Return of the Storm

When the season got underway back in March all eyes were on the two grand finalists of last season, Melbourne Storm and Many Sea Eagles. Following on from the absolute hammering the Storm received in the grand final many pundits wondered if they could come back better and stronger. Last year’s finals run was a shambles for the Storm though, they started it with a shock loss to the eighth-placed New Zealand Warriors then took on the Sharks in a fierce battle that put everyone on edge. The game against the Sharks will most be remembered for the post-match aftermath when coach Craig Bellamey and CEO Brian Waldron and captain Cameron Smith went on the front foot over accusations of ‘being singled out’. Smith was banned following an illegal tackle on a Sharks player.

The mess that followed the rest of the week leading to the grand final show-cased Melbourne’s frustrations of being picked on, but even more so they forgot about the real thing. Playing football. Too caught up in trying to show the rugby league community they were ‘innocent’ of such acts and they spent more time worrying about their perception in public. They lamented relentlessly during the whole week about the loss of their best player, when in the end result even his presence wouldn’t have made the difference.

Moving on from their disastrous grand final thumping into 2009 the Storm would look to come out firing. At least to their fans that was the message they wanted to give. Their pre-season games weren’t too bad but come round 1 against a new look Dragons outfit, that was to be their true test. Right from the outset of this game the Storm were behind the pace. They looked tired, lazy and un-interested at times even. The last seasons of finals appearances and good fortune looked non-existent. Instead of looking like a team they looked like a group of individuals. Their once potent backline had no punch Billy Slater was forced to chase balls rather than plucking them from mid air and bringing it back with great intent. In the end they got away with a one-point victory in over time, and though less than convincing for the first game of the year they, like any other team could be excused for their poor showing.

However this trend carried on for several weeks, and one excuse the club continued to come up with was their in-ability to adapt to new the two-referee system. A pretty poor excuse from one of the best team’s considering how well the rest of the NRL had slowly become accustomed to the system in a relatively short space of time. It did confirm a thought, with their tackling styles of the past nullified now, as just a thing of the past; the Storm was forced to come up with a whole new game plan. They realised eventually they couldn’t just run with one halfback and a make-shift five-eighth, to get back to the top they need genuine players, team players; and luckily for them a fruit dropped from the rugby league gods in the un-wanted Eel Brett Finch.

Perhaps now the Storm has woken from their three years of dreaming and learnt valuable lessons. They have a team stack full of stars, all whom have served them well and will continue to in the future, but they seemed to forget from time to time, they were playing a team sport and having a team of individuals would only breathe success in the short term. They have know come to terms with the new referee system they have a full pair of halves and are working as a unit still with the occasional moment of individual brilliance to complement their talents.

In the last three-four weeks the league world is seeing the best of the Storm, they’ve blistered their opponents out of the water and gained momentum heading in the right direction on the ladder at exactly the right time of the season.

We haven’t seen the best of the Storm yet but they have turned a corner and it is hard to argue they won’t once again feature in the big one. But it still remains if they will see the same success as their previous years, time has caught up on them and opposition plans are in place. The clouds are gathering, the rain is forming and the thunder is beating.
~~

743 words beteen '~'

 

[Willow]

| Willow - NSW Blues |

I, Robot

"In the near future, robots have replaced humans in the boxing ring."

'Steel' is a Twilight Zone classic.

Based on a story published by The Magazine of Fantasy and Science-Fiction in the 1950s, it retells the futuristic yarn where boxing has been outlawed after being deemed too barbaric. The citizens of this new-age world instead get their thrills watching mechanical robots beat each other into submission.

Aired in 1963, the Twilight Zone episode starred a young Lee Marvin playing the role of Steel Kelly, an out-of-work former boxer who turns his hand to managing a B2-class robot called 'Battling Maxo'.

The story develops with Maxo being damaged in transit and forced to withdraw. Marvin's character is inevitably obliged to enter the ring and fight an advanced B7 robot. The crowd cheer and jeer every sickening blow, but remain oblivious to the fact that it is a fellow human getting beaten to a pulp.

'Steel' becomes a memorable tale of guts, determination and sheer lunacy.

"...there's an infinite number of monkeys outside who want to talk to us about this script for Hamlet they've worked out."

What about Forum Sevens? Could there be software available where non-human ghost writers search the world wide web while applying the infinite monkey theory? This random intelligence would eventually grow into the perfect team with an ability to compile exact 750 word league-related articles with predetermined quirky twists at the end, and then program themselves to search the match thread and post at a comfortable 8:30pm AEST every second Wednesday!

Who's to say it's not happening now?

If perchance the program produces a perfect score, who's the say the monkeys won't sue for copyright? We could be opening up the proverbial can of worms.

Jokes aside, crude article writing programs are already in the pipeline. It is quite plausible that in the near future we may be reading novels written by a computer. The trick will be trying to tell the difference between human writings, and that which is jumbled together by a series of signals and circuits.

Once we have nailed the Artificial Intelligence aspect of literature, the next step will be 'Reality Video' and 'Virtual Reality'. We're already seeing the introduction of hi-tech video replays being altered to give the illusion of a different scenario in a sporting event.

After that, the next step seems obvious...

"All men hate the wretched; how then, must I be hated, who am miserable beyond all living things! Yet you, my creator, detest and spurn me, thy creature, to whom thou art bound by ties only dissoluble by the annihilation of one of us."

With trendy sycophants sneering at contact sports and looking for ways to bring down the greatest of all contact sports, we may see rugby league being played by robots in the not-too-distant future. In the brave new world of entrepreneurial pursuits, promoters may respond to demand and cash in on this next generation of robot wars.

Imagine a rugby league club where the salary cap and player transfers are replaced by intellectual property agreements over the design of androids with abilities, attitudes, and media personalities to boot. There'll be player-bot brand names like 'Charging Changa', 'Gouging Gallen' and the evil Mechdroid Willie Mason making headlines off-field without the fear of in-house investigations or bringing the game into disrepute. The list is endless. Once the robot becomes old news, just replace him with another.

Maybe it's just a matter of time, and perhaps we'll all live to see it before old age robs us of the ability to drink soup though a straw.

But there is a moral to the story. What if, just as Steel Kelly found, a human was forced to take the field? A team is a player-bot short and a former league player secretly disguises himself as an android for the good of the club.

The crowd would cheer as limbs were ripped from the competitor's sockets. The message is as powerful as it was in the Twilight Zone where humanity becomes a slave to its own brutality, regardless of how civilised we say we have become or how hard we try to dehumanise events we see before us.

In the end, our flesh and blood hero gets carted off in a box. Gruesome? Well not really, you see in the future where human contact sports have been outlawed for being too brutal, the sports themselves have become more violent than ever.

After all, robots have no rights.

| Exactly 750 words at 8:30pm AEST |

References:
Title borrowed from Issac Asimov.
Quotes from The Twilght Zone, Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy and Mary Shelley's Frankenstein.

 

[Pistol]

Thar she blows

 

[Titanic]

Thank you timekeeper.

Cracking game Queensland and a good little light fandango at the end there, Blues.
5v5 very competitive pieces... there is little doubt that Origin is alive and well.

Over to you The Colonel for what should be an enjoyable task.

 

[byrne_rovelli_fan82]

Good luck everyone!

 

[Willow]

Thank you time keeper.

Good luck to one and all.

 

[Pistol]

Thank you timekeeper.

Cracking game Queensland and a good little light fandango at the end there, Blues.
5v5 very competitive pieces... there is little doubt that Origin is alive and well.

Over to you The Colonel for what should be an enjoyable task.

thunderbolts and lightning, very very frightening

 

[Non Terminator]

Thanks alot Pistol.
Amazing reads all round there, this will be a close one!
Good luck to all involved. May the best state win!
Good luck Ref!