2011 FINALS - Preliminary Final: Panthers -V- Ninjas

[Jesbass]

2011 Finals Series: Preliminary Final​

Penrith Panthers -V- Chuck Norris Texas Death Ninjas​

-V-

Game Thread:

* This is a game thread only. Only game posts can be made here - team lists, substitutions, and articles.
* Any other posts may result in loss of points and is at the discretion of the referee.
* Only original articles, not used in previous games, will be marked by referees.

Naming Teams:
* 5 -V- 5 (+ 3 reserves for both teams)
* No 'TBA' or changing players named
* Captains must stick with original teams named

Rules: http://f7s.leagueunlimited.com/rules.php
Official Word Counter: http://f7s.leagueunlimited.com/wordcount.php

Kick Off: Sunday 18th September 2011 (2100AEST)
Full Time: Wednesday 28th September 2011 (2100AEST)
Referee: Jesbass
Venue: The Front Row Stadium

Previous Matchups This Season:
Ninjas 438 v Panthers 431 (Round 5)
Ninjas 263 v Panthers 261 (Willow Cup Round 1)
Panthers 422 v Ninjas 418 (Round 10)

Winner progresses to the Grand Final.
Loser is eliminated.​

 

[edabomb]

The Ninjas wander off the team bus - embracing their underdog status. Good luck all.

Starting
edabomb (c)
CobyDelaney
gUt
jamesgould
joshie

Bench
Hallatia
paulquinn49

 

[Big Mick]

The Panthers team to take on the Ninja's:

1. Big Mick
2. Madunit
3. Leaguenut
4. Azkatro
5. Broncoman

RES:
6. Didgi
7. Goleel

 

[broncoman]

broncoman
#5 Panthers

Lockyer Got the Grand Farewell

After weeks of articles, stories on the news, internet talk and chatter amongst friends most people agreed that Darren Lockyer was denied his fitting farewell of a premiership. As a Broncos supporter that would have been amazing, but not for Darren but for the whole club and as a supporter I want my team to win every year. The man played 355 first grade games, won four premierships and pretty much dominated the game for over a decade, he didn't need the "fairytale". In fact in many ways the style in which he departed our game ensures his legend will live on, perhaps longer than it may have had he got the victory lap of ANZ stadium this Sunday.

Lockyer was tough, I'm not even talking about him contemplating playing a semi final less than a week after having his face crushed, I mean everything he did in his career. For 16 years he was smashed, from numerous broken ribs to hundred of stitches in his face he kept coming back. The face of a bleeding, bandaged Lockyer is one of a true hero, someone who you can openly admit to having admiration for no matter who you support. This is why I say he did get the farewell of a champion. Never in the modern game has any player gotten the respect that he has, our future brigade of stars will always have their doubters; Thurston is a sook, Marshall is made of glass, Hayne is a show pony and the list goes on. I don't believe any of our recent legends who got their grand final day farewell can say they were as worshipped as Lockyer. From Meninga to Menzies to Webcke, all greats of our game but I do not believe any would have left a legacy as strong as they did had they not tasted grand final success in their last game.

Although it wasn't grand final day Lockyer did get a farewell of epic proportions. An extra time field goal to send his Broncos to within one game of the first weekend of October whilst nursing a broken cheekbone, will long be remembered as one of the bravest acts on a rugby league field in decades. The scenes as he was engulfed by his team mates and the euphoria of the fans shortly before departing his home ground of Suncorp Stadium as a winner will be what I remember him for. This was a place he won many State of Origin games, club games and test matches, it was his spiritual home and leaving there a winner in his final game was a fitting farewell for a great champion.

Do I think he would have changed anything if he could have? Probably. Being the competitor he is I'm sure he would have loved to have won the premiership this year, but not because it was his final season but because he's a winner. Having said that though I think he would be proud of what he achieved in 2011, he revitalised a team that many accepted would miss the finals and probably struggle towards the bottom of the table. He has been a major part of reshaping the club culture and I bet he would agree the team winning two premierships in the next five years because of this would be better than tasting success this year and falling in a heap after that.

I don't believe the Lockyer story is done with yet, many of the great memories I have of him were in do or die moments; his long range field goal against the Titans, his kick to Denan Kemp to beat the Eels, the extra time try for the Kangaroos in the tri-nations final and the list goes on. Most expect him to withdraw from the Australian squad because of the injury, but I see there being one last twist in the tale here, with New Zealand dominating rugby league at the moment it wouldn't surprise me to see Locky come out in the end of season's test and give one last footballing exhibition. He went out of club football a winner, he left the origin arena as a winner and I suspect he will leave the international game with yet another trophy to his name in about six weeks time.

I don't know what is after that in the Darren Lockyer story but I'm sure he'll be a champion and a winner in that.

-----
748 words including title

 

[LeagueNut]

LeagueNut for the Panthers.

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Darren Lockyer wins the Grand Final

It seemed like the ultimate fairytale, but now there’s no chance of seeing the above headline this year. Every fan of Rugby League, regardless of their roots or devotions, would have enjoyed seeing the ultimate end to an almighty career with the Broncos maestro bowing out with the victory he so richly deserved.

But all is not lost … thanks to the magic of quantum physics and liberal massaging of the fourth dimension, we can…

DON’T DO IT!!!​

Whoops, sorry about that - please ignore that mad raving lunatic. Now, as I was saying, let’s delve deep into the realms of alternate realities and parallel universes to give Darren the send-off he deserves.

First of all, let’s get rid of that pesky knee from Gerard Beale and tune in to Ray Warren’s closing comments for the Broncos semi-final against the Dragons:

“Here comes the decision … IT’S A TRY! Another try to Darius Boyd, his second in only four minutes, and the Dragons will survive for another week!”

Bugger, that didn’t work. New plan – let’s get rid of Darius Boyd from the Dragons. What will the newspapers be saying about this match now?

“Retiring Broncos skipper Darren Lockyer has heaped praise on the North Queensland Cowboys for pulling off a remarkable 30-22 victory over the Gold Coast Titans in last nights sudden death semi-final at Suncorp Stadium. While his team-mates are enduring their earliest pre-season start on record thanks to their 13th place finish, Lockyer is enjoying his retirement and was buoyed by the strength of the two Queensland teams on display.”

OK, by taking Darius away from the Dragons, it appears both he and Wayne Bennett ended up at the Cowboys instead. This is harder than I thought.

QUIT WHILE YOU’RE AHEAD!!​

Piss off you weirdo. How about we find a universe where Bennett stayed with the Broncos – would that make things better?

“The Brisbane Broncos will advance to week three of the 2011 finals after a gritty 14-10 win over the South Sydney Rabbitohs at Suncorp Stadium. The Rabbitohs, led bravely by ex-Broncos stalwart Darren Lockyer, tried valiantly but could not stop the Brisbane juggernaut.”

OH COME ON! Bennett stays at the Broncos but Lockyer went to the Bunnies? Right, I’ll fix this – let’s make sure the Bunnies never got back into the comp! That’ll work, won’t it?

“Darren Lockyer’s remarkable career will continue for another week after the Queensland superstar led his Gold Coast Suns team into the AFL preliminary finals with a 35-point win over the Essendon Eagles.”

Now that’s just taking the piss. Who’s in charge of these bloody universes?

Right, I’ve had enough of this. Let’s put Lockyer back into the Broncos match against the Dragons, get rid of Gerard Beale, and make Corey Parker’s penalty goal attempt just before halftime sail between the uprights. How will those extra two points make a difference?

CUT IT OUT!!​

Nah, I like playing God. C’mon Broncos – can you keep Darren’s career alive now?

“Referees boss Bill Harrigan is defending the decision of Matt Cecchin to send off Darren Lockyer for backchat during the Broncos 34-8 loss to the Dragons on Saturday night.”

Holy crap – I wonder what he said? Ahh who cares, let’s give Cecchin the arse now – I’ve got a feeling we’re getting closer to the right outcome…

“Dragons skipper Paul Gallen has paid tribute to three-try hero Greg Inglis for keeping their season alive with a 24-18 win over the Broncos…”

Seriously? OK, maybe I’m in over my head here. Let’s try a simpler solution – let’s give Lockyer some headgear! Surely a bit of protection to that cheekbone will put things back to the way they’re meant to be?

“A 34-year-old morbidly obese plumber from East Lindfield has been arrested and charged with attempted murder following what appears to be a sniper attack from the upper stands of Suncorp Stadium on Saturday night. Stadium officials have launched an immediate enquiry into the security lapse that allowed a rifle into the grounds. The Brisbane Broncos have announced the target of the attack, captain Darren Lockyer, is expected to be in hospital for at least three weeks following a double knee reconstruction. While the offender is yet to be named, fellow stadium patrons describe him as “extremely smelly” and claim to have seen him holding a banner reading “CLIFFY IS GOD” during the first half.”

I give up – it seems some things just aren’t meant to be.

Told ya so!​

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747 words. Liftoff!

 

[gUt]

gUt takes the ball from HP Lovecraft and hits it up...

The Thing in the Grandstand

The universe is vast and cold. There are dark things that slither and writhe imperceptibly at the edge of our awareness. Things that gnaw at the very fabric of space and time; evil intelligences that lust after the warmth of human flesh; secret beings that tempt and worm their way into the souls of men and devour them from the inside like parasitic larvae.

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

It was just another Friday night. The first half had finished Channel 9’s director had thrown to ads. The panel readied themselves for the halftime show, discussing hastily compiled highlights packages and the merits of this play or that player. Outside the commentary booth, the crowd moved to refill beer cups or empty bladders.

This halftime show was to be different. Glenn Munsie would join the panel and rattle off the various odds of this or that eventuality. He would give “his” opinions about whether a certain player would score last. He would engage in carefully scripted banter with the hosts. Every move made by a player now had a price to be wagered on and Munsie had done his part in bringing the gambling monster as close to the NRL as lovers. The code was now dependent on the money the gambling corporations poured into it. By extension, whether they gambled or not, every fan was now obligated to this union.

The director gave the team their 15-second warning. The old pros nodded and relaxed their shoulders and applied fixed expressions to their faces. “Alright, Glenn?” Andrew Johns asked the man sitting to his left.

Munsie did not reply. His head was bowed, his chin hard against his chest. A low chuckle seemed to ooze up from within him. He jerked once, twice in his seat. Johns put it down to nerves and the director hadn’t noticed at all. They were now back live.

“Welcome back to TAB halftime. A very special guest has joined us in the booth, welcome Glenn Munsie from… what the f-“

It all happened so quickly. While Sterling was introducing him, the scene had cut to Munsie who was now violently shaking in his seat. As Sterling stopped himself from profaning live on air, vomit erupted from Munsie’s mouth and now poured down the front of his dark suit. Splashes of it landed on Johns’ jacket and it pooled on the desk. Still the laughter came.

Suddenly a large hump formed behind Munsie’s shoulders. There was a tearing sound, of cloth and flesh, as the lump quickly grew. Blood sprayed the studio as a greenish mass erupted from his shoulders. It expanded impossibly quickly. More lumps grew and burst into bloody mist as Munsie flopped onto the panel’s desk. The rest of the team leapt clear, except for Johns who screamed as the greenish slime continued to pour from the now ruined carcass of Glenn Munsie, whose sightless eyes bored unblinkingly into camera 2 and out into the viewing public.

More slime erupted from more pustules. Johns was now all but smothered in it and he was unable to do anything except scream and flail his one free arm about. Cameramen panicked and fled the room, as did the on-screen talent. Horrified home viewers sat transfixed. Johns was visibly decaying live on air, as though he were being digested. The slime started to congeal under the hot studio lights and it began to form itself into thick, writhing tentacles that searched, searched….

Impossibly fast it grew, until those at the ground heard the sound of breaking glass above and turned in time to see the green tentacles burst out into the terraces, trapping anyone they touched. Still the green mass grew as the crowd panicked, spilling out onto the ground as they attempted to flee the growing, writhing Thing that now searched for more sustenance in corporate boxes, down through the innards of the grandstand, down the rows of seats and sent tentacles like green flames probing a hundred metres into the sky.

Still it grew. Still it fed. Still it laughed. Still we watched.

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I am old now and no longer do I live in my home city, buried beneath a mile-thick blanket of impervious green slime. And to this day the Thing grows - devouring whole streets as it expands, suburbs left abandoned in the path of this continental tumour. Nothing, they say, can be done about it, so we just watch.

We watch, and we wait for it to come for us.

749 words, honest.

 

[madunit]

madunit for the Panthers

The First Referee

In 1907, a small group of men became the founding fathers of Australia’s Rugby League referee’s. The man leading them into this exciting future was Edward James “Ted” Hooper.

Born in 1871 in Kent, England, Edward showed great aptitude for sport at a young age. He moved to Australia and immediately found work as manager of the Clovelly beach surf pavilion, which he loved and held for many years.

He began playing Rugby Union, initially as a centre. At the age of 27 he made his first grade debut for Surry Hills, for whom he played from 1899 til 1902. In 1903 he moved to Easts and into the second row, where he became renowned as one of the smartest forwards in the state. In 1903 he played for NSW and won a premiership. In 1905 he played for Sydney, before retiring.

Hooper then became one of the leading officials in the state in 1906 and 1907. By late 1907 discontent amongst the Union ranks and talk of a breakaway Rugby code became stronger. Hooper decided to be a referee for the new game.

On August 28, 1907, Edward Hooper became the inaugural Rugby League Referees Association President. A position he held til 1912. The NSWRL offered to pay the referees and touch officials a small sum for officiating games. Hooper moved that the referees not be paid and the money used elsewhere to ensure the games survival.

The referees also agreed they would donate money to the NSWRL from their own pockets. The referee would donate threepence and the sideline officials gave a shilling for every game they were involved.

Hooper officiated the first Rugby League club game at Birchgrove Oval on April 20, 1908, between Balmain and Wests.

On May 2nd, he became the first to referee a representative Rugby League game in Australasia when NSW hosted New Zealand. By season’s end, Hooper had controlled more club games than any other referee, including two consecutive games on July 4: Newtown v Norths at 2pm and Balmain v Glebe at 3.15pm.

Hooper continued to referee in 1909, before becoming a part-time referee in the lower grades.

At the end of the 1912 season, Ted stood down from his position as Referees Association President and was chosen to manage a NSW squad, which was essentially an unofficial Australian team, to be the first Australian representative team to tour New Zealand.

In the third tour game, Sid Deane was charged with illegally striking an opponent. The NZRL decided to suspend him for the remainder of the tour. The NSW team threatened to strike, but Hooper stepped in and mediated a lesser suspension for Deane which ensured the tour would continue.

The controversy didn’t end there. Hawkes Bay was to host NSW on Saturday at the same ground the NZRU were using on Sunday. League officials asked to use the newly erected stand that the NZRU assembled at the ground. The Union officials agreed but only if the NZRL and NSWRL would pay an exorbitant price. They declined.

On the eve of the League game, Union officials dismantled the stand and took all the materials with them. League officials arrived at the ground the next morning and saw what happened. Hooper, a number of the NSW and Hawkes Bay players and local residents all chipped in with materials and labour to build their own stand, which was completed in time for the game.

The NSW team lost to Auckland before defeating the New Zealand test side. The Sid Deane suspension issue arose again, this time the NZRL decided to reverse the agreement. So as to retain good relations, Hooper agreed. NSW went on to complete the tour undefeated. The tour was heralded as a great success.

Hooper retired from all referee duties at the end of 1912 and became referee selector from 1913 til 1925.

In 1925, he travelled with the NSW team to Brisbane for the fourth interstate game. At half-time, a novelty game between the Brisbane and Ipswich referees was scheduled, with Hooper as the honorary referee. Once the 15 minute game concluded, the referees left the field, the crowd applauding Hooper who waved and smiled as he entered the change rooms.

He went to the shower and collapsed on the floor.

Doctors confirmed Edward James Hooper had died from shock. He was just 54.

He died as a life member of the NSWRL.

The SCG Trust display his 1908 cap and whistle.

747 words. LIFT OFF!

Sources:
Edward James Hooper Jr - Grandson of Ted Hooper (referee)
Family records and images courtesy of the Hooper family.
Sydney Morning Herald
Clarence and Richmond Examiner
The Brisbane Courier
The Referee
The SCG Trust
Sean Fagan (www.rl1908.com)
www.rugbyleagueproject.org

 

[TooheysNew]

CobyDelaney for the Ninjas

The Bond
As the saying goes, you cannot judge the strength of a man until he is truly put under pressure.

While true, a pressure situation does not just test the strength of one man. It tests the strength of everyone around him, and the bonds he shares with those he holds closest. A supportive and tight-knit group of mates can make any situation more bearable, despite the magnitude of the test.

In the military, young men face great tests every single day. Camaraderie, mateship and a sense of brotherhood are forged, literally, at gunpoint. Every day calls for vigilance, concentration, and teamwork – life and death the ultimate consequence. It is from these situations that most of the general public people draw their connotations of the strength of human nature.

However, the military is not the only place where mateship is apparent. In fact, Rugby League draws upon similar personal characteristics, and places its ranks in similar situations throughout the season.

For example, the notoriously tough training to prepare soldiers for military service is directly reminiscent of pre-season training for a top Rugby League team. The boys pull together, pat each other on the backside and shout out encouragement, pushing for a common goal. Men will be reduced to cowering, exhausted shells of themselves, and yet they still continue to push each other, for the good of the whole.

Out on the field, you don't have your family. You have your brothers out there sweating along with you, and you have your coach firing out instructions. Sure, players may tell the post-match interview "I played today for my father" - but I guarantee you that in the heat of battle, in that very moment, the actuality of what’s on that player’s mind is very different. Any player who tells you they were thinking about their family in that moment is simply lying. The priority for every player is to not let their brothers down.

There are certain aspects of the life of a Rugby League player that the average civilian would simply not be aware of, would not even consider, lounged back in their comfortable armchair with a cold beer. They see the rewards of the game - a try, a win, a premiership - but they do not see the hard work, mental toughness and emotional investment that every player has made each season.

From your comfortable chair, you’ll see the players before the game circle up and pull each other close. However only those who have actually played our great game will understand the true impact a pre-game huddle can have. Something inspiring happens within that huddle; something that a TV camera cannot capture, that a spectator cannot feel - no matter how close their seats are to action.

Each player looks around the group, into the eyes of their mates – their brothers. A deep-seated understanding is conveyed with this look, a knowing that no matter what, each player will give their all for their brothers, sacrifice whatever may be necessary to achieve the objectives. A chill runs down each player’s spine, a jolt in their stomach, and a twitch in their muscles. They’re ready for battle. Perhaps words are spoken, perhaps they aren’t. Even the silence is profound.

This bond is obvious to each player out on the field, especially during the hard times. When your team is forced to defend repeat sets on your own line, you really get an idea of the strength of a man. You, like the rest of your team mates, are exhausted. Your body is stretched beyond its limits, lactic acid eating deep into every muscle, every breath rasping through overworked lungs, the searing pain in your chest second only to the salty taste curling the edges of your tongue as you struggle not to throw up.

It’s at this point that there is nothing left to rely on except mental strength. Physical fitness went out the window a long time ago, and all the training in the world doesn’t matter. The only thing you have left is your strength of mind. You look at the men to your left and right, and you push through the pain, desperate not to let down your brothers next to you.

It’s a special bond that most people simply do not experience: the willingness to sacrifice your own well-being, your own comfort, for that of another person, and knowing that they will do the same thing for you.

That’s a reward in itself.

 

[Big Mick]

Big Mick takes the field for the Panthers looking for a better personal performance than what he dished up last outing!

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A Sonny Grand Final Afternoon:​

​

Last Saturday night at approximately 10pm as the New Zealand Warriors defeated the Minor Premiers Melbourne Storm I sat in reflection and felt incredibly sad. Make no mistake I am not a Storm fan mourning the loss of my team, it was another loss of over two years ago which filled my heart with sorrow. It was the realisation that the New Zealand Warriors would be going to the NRL Grand Final this Sunday without one of its favourite sons and promising stars, Sonny Fai.

The story of Sonny Fai is one of courage and sacrifice. Fai was a star junior Kiwi who was destined for great things for both the Warriors and the National side. A strong, mobile back rower who had all the physical and mental attributes to be a great NRL player and his star was definitely on the rise following a promising 2008 season. After a training session with his brother and cousins at Bethell’s Beach in preparation for what was to be his breakout 2009 season, the group decided to go for an evening swim. As his cousins and younger brother got caught in a violent rip Sonny dove in with no thought of self-preservation saving all of them, but in process got swept out to sea himself. Sonny Fai died a hero not just to his family, but to all Rugby League supporters.

Like everyone else, I was in shock at the disappearance of Sonny Fai in 2009. Sitting in my lounge room, I felt as if I had lost a member of my family. Sonny Fai signified everything great about our game. He was a fantastic role model in his community and gave generously. He was a player everyone wanted to be around and was a devoted family man. On top of that, he made the ultimate sacrifice for those whom he loved the most, and that is the true measure of a man. In turn, the league community responded to honour, respect and most of all remember a true role model of our game.

It is that memory and sacrifice which will serve as inspiration for the New Zealand Warriors when they run out onto ANZ Stadium at 4.30pm on Sunday. The hardest part, however, will be watching this Grand Final with the knowledge that half of the team that will be playing were his teammates in the Toyota Cup teams of 2007-08 and players with whom he grew up playing alongside.

The motivation is definitely on display from his Warriors teammates, with young Warriors prop Russell Packer telling RLW “Sonny and I were not just team-mates – we were great mates” Packer said.

“He will be up there watching us and maybe he will sprinkle a little magic powder from his fingers to help us when things get tough. It’s tragic what happened to him and there aren’t many days when I don’t think of Sonny.”

“We know he will be up there cheering for us and hopefully we can do it for him”.

Packer’s comments echo the thoughts of his young Warrior teammates who will carry a special part of their friend with them on Sunday night. But it’s not just current players who realise what the Warriors will play for on Sunday with past legends such as Stacey Jones and Ruben Wiki highlighting the motivation behind the game.

Stacey Jones, the legendary halfback of the first Warriors team to reach a grand final in 2002, told RLW “The one thing about these Kiwi boys is that they are all very tight. They all loved Sonny and if they think of him, they will run through brick walls to win it. It is very powerful motivation; they will do whatever it takes.”

Sonny Fai, had he lived, would have been 22 years old and progressing to his first Grand Final as a New Zealand Warrior. He was a player who debuted in 2008 for the Warriors and dreamed of taking New Zealand to Grand Final glory, along with combining with his junior teammates in creating an International dynasty for New Zealand Rugby League. While Sonny is not taking the field physically on Sunday, he has been and will continue to serve as an inspiration to all New Zealand juniors and especially to his young teammates. This weekend Sonny Fai will be the 18th man on the field - symbolising courage and fighting spirit and helping the Warriors bring home their inaugural NRL premiership.

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747 Words (OWC)

LIFT OFF!

References:
RLW - September 28, 2011, Sonny Day

 

[jamesgould]

NRL Secrets Exposed!!!


Hi Readers, and welcome to another exciting issue of NRL SECRETS EXPOSED. The only magazine where you get the FULL, UNEDITED TRUTH about our favourite sport of rugby league.


This is the magazine they tried to shut down. But nobody can get in the way of the truth.


In this month’s edition, we take a look at Queensland’s miracle Origin try in 1994. Mark Coyne scored the four pointer, seemingly from out of nothing. However, we have found damning evidence from the Queensland Rugby League’s own files, that it was the GREATEST SET PLAY IN HISTORY!!! The play was planned years in advance. And our evidence shows exactly where the set play (nicknamed the “Cold War surge” in official documentation) originated from. Our research reveals that former FBI Director J. Edgar Hoover was integral in the development of the match winning try.


We also have coverage of an amazing revelation regarding the 1999 Grand Final. Until now, it was widely accepted that video referee Chris Ward adjudicated on the penalty try that won the premiership for the Melbourne Storm. We can now prove through an eye-witness report that Ward, overcome by the significance of the decision, in fact passed the judgment to higher authorities. For the first time, you will read how the real decision came from Ward’s reptilian overlords, orbiting the earth in case any such action was required. We know alien reptiles have ruled earth in strategic positions of power for many centuries, but this is the first time we have had CONCLUSIVE EVIDENCE that they also engineered the most controversial grand final result of all time.


In another amazing find that has taken years of investigations, our feature article this month concerns one of mankind’s finest achievements – the filming of the moon-landing in Alabama during July 1967. For decades we have pondered over where Graeme Langland’s white boots worn in the 1975 grand final originated from. Obviously the type of technology required to manufacture white boots was not commonly available in 1975. We can now expose that the white boots came from the moon-landing filming itself – WHICH GRAEME LANGLANDS DIRECTED! In 1967, Langlands was a talented director, and in hot demand from the USA Government for their moon landing propaganda. The white boots were gifted to him at the wrap party by Neil Armstrong himself, in recognition of his contribution towards the production.


The photo below shows Langlands, having had a slight mishap on the 11th day of filming, limping from the set, with “Buzz” Aldrin behind preparing for another take. Note Langlands’ shadow, which is clearly at odds with the rest of the scene.

We also lift the covers on the St George Dragons’ record 11 consecutive premierships between 1956 and 1966. Until now, fans believed that the Dragons were perhaps the greatest side in history. Only now can we divulge that ten of those premierships were the result of ILLEGAL MIND-CONTROL TACTICS by Norm Provan! The NRL is set to discredit St George with all the grand finals that Provan took part in, leaving 1966 their only crown. Provan acquired his skills as a youngster, as a part of hideous experiments conducted by the Allied forces during World War Two, in an attempt to curb the advances of Herr Hitler’s army. Little did they realise that those very forces would be used to guide a rugby league team to illegal victories in Australia! The interview (conducted by a qualified psychic with Albert Einstein’s spirit) is a must-read.


John Sattler’s 1970 broken jaw has gone down in legend, but for all the wrong reasons. In another WORLD EXCLUSIVE, we can make public the fact that Sattler’s jaw was not broken at all. John Sattler is a part of the vast population of human shapeshifters – when punched by opposition forward John Bucknall, Sattler lost control of his unworldly abilities. His jaw became uncontrollable – off camera turning into a banana, steering wheel and a pair of grey slacks, amongst other things. Now, rare film footage taken from the crowd depicts Sattler’s struggle to keep control of his powers on the sideline, before returning to the action.


Finally, we run the rule over rugby league broadcasters, and make the shock discovery that Ray Warren’s commentary played backwards extols the virtues of life under the rule of communist North Korea! We reveal the links that have brainwashed Warren into becoming a puppet for the evil Kim Jong-il.


Enjoy the issue, and until next month – believe the truth!

 

[joshie]

Joshie hits up the ball, for the Ninjas, in an all or nothing run for a place in the Forum Seven's grand final..

Kia Ora Mate

Have you ever thought about our national anthem? Have you ever thought about it with regards to sport, namely: Rugby League? Well, it sounds like this, (please imagine the drunken merkins Ceagle and Willow, in the pub singing it loud and proud):

"AUSTRALIANS ALL LET US REJOICE, FOR WE ARE YOUNG AND FREE,
WITH GOLDEN SOIL"

Yeah, well, you get the idea.

When it is sung at Rugby League events, it assumes the role of a dominant incision into the world of sports, the best singing, and the best anthem for their best performances. Enter 2005.

The Australians marched in, and marched out with their tails between their legs, with a silver fern imprint on their asses. The Kiwis decided that they would put in their best performance in, like EVER, defeating the Kangaroos 24-0. "TWENTY FOUR F**KING NOTHING" is what the neighbours could hear from my house.


Take a trip to the 2008 World Cup. The first Cup our wonderful game has had since the year 2000, where the Australians asserted their dominance, and best of all the East Coast of Australia hosted the 2008 tournament. The Kangaroos started so well, winning their first game against the Kiwis 30-6, going on with the job to move into the final at Suncorp Stadium. Then, the lads from New Zealand joined us; making it the first Grand Final between these two teams since Australias epic golden point Tri Nations win in 2006. They played a FIREY clash, one for the ages, one even the clash of the titans blockbuster cinematic film makers would be jealous of, A WORLD CUP FINAL BETWEEN TWO COUNTRIES WITH SPORTING HATE. And, at the conclusion of 80 minutes, the Kiwis did the unthinkable and won the biggest prize in the international game. New Zealand 2, Australia 1.

2009 came and went, the Mighty Melbourne Storm won the NRL title over the Parramatta Eels and the world number one would play the World Champions and world number two, but not in the final. England managed to sneak their way through to the final by one point, after Australia and New Zealand drew 20-20.

In 2010, the fifth anniversary of the first time that the Kiwis got us, we would play again. It would be a wonderful tournament that would see Australia, New Zealand and England collectively destroy Papua New Guinea and fight for the Grand Final spots. The defending runners up missed out and New Zealand challenged the defending champions. They won. Australia felt a tremor in the ground, it was as if a sporting Atomic bomb had been dropped; three out of the last four finals Australia had played our little cousins, Australia had lost. To make matters worse, the last three times New Zealand had beaten Australia, were all in Grand Finals.

And 2011 is not shaping up too well for Australia either, this Sunday the NRL grand final, the National Youth Competition Final and the New South Wales cup will all feature New Zealand based clubs. The Auckland Vulcans could destroy the New South Wales based Bulldogs, the Junior Warriors could eat the Queensland based Junior Cowboys and their top club team, the NEW ZEALAND Warriors could potentially ruin the very foundations our Rugby League nation stands on. If the Kiwis could win this year's Four Nations, Australia could be, for the first time, title-less in ALL respects.

Before I end this article, let me take a 'David Gallop' moment and compare Rugby League to situations in America. America fed their current war rivals with weaponry and ammunition and it turned around on them, in the sporting world, Australia have done the same thing, and it may take until 2013 for us to reclaim world number one status. And who knows, maybe in ten years time the dominant national anthem tune will go a little like this:

"GOD OF NATIONS AT THY FEET!"
"E Ihowā Atua"

 

[edabomb]

edabomb for the Ninjas
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Coach Re-Revolutionary

Week One
The squad had gathered in the gym. It was the first training run of the year, and their first training run with Coach Jackson. There was a deep foreboding - the couple of weeks teams spend together before Christmas was generally reserved for mindless fitness work. As the Coach worked through his speech it became apparent that this wasn’t to be the case this season, he spoke of spending this first week gelling as team mates - running through some set plays and playing plenty of touch football and basketball to improve the players skills. The players mood began to lighten; even a few smiles began appearing. The coaching staff had decided on an unorthodox plan for the coming season - they were going to coach footballers to play football.

Week Twelve
Coach Jackson stood calmly in the changing rooms waiting for his first Fox Sports game day interview as a first grade coach. “We’re very optimistic heading into Round One. We have our systems set up - it’s all about putting these into practise on the field. I think we’re good enough to be there late in September. We’ve set high goals - today is the first step in achieving those. We’re all looking forward to today and getting a chance to show how much we’ve improved over summer,” summarised Coach Jackson confidently.

Week Fourteen
'Coach Re-Revolutionary Does It Again' was the newspaper headline. This nickname had been bestowed upon Coach Jackson only two weeks into the new season. After dishing out a couple of thrashings in the preseason his side had scraped home in Round One against the Premiership heavyweights. In Round Two they’d put fifty points on their opponents in a glorious display of attacking football. They had bodies in motion, roving halves and offloading forwards. They flew in the face of the conservative nature of the modern game - and the media loved it.

Week Twenty-One
The pressure was building - two wins from their past six games and they were falling out of the top eight quicker than the 2010 Melbourne Storm. The weekly instructions were to stick to what they know – take their chances if they saw an opportunity. The scores were level with less than five minutes to go and they were in position for a tie breaker. Tackle four and right in front of the sticks the halfback called for the ball - he was too flat for a drop kick though. He chipped to the in goal for his oblivious outside backs, the ball dribbled harmlessly dead. Expletives were all that could be from heard from the coaches box. Their opponents rode up the field like they were surfing a wave and calmly potted the winning field goal. “Percentage plays” was all coach Jackson could mumble as he departed to address his players.

Week Thirty
“Um, ah - we need to - um - get into the grind. We want to show our natural - ah - our flair. We can’t play to how - um - we can’t have the other team - ah - dictate the flow. We need to work on the - um - little things. The little things need to be - ah - we need to be accurate, get the little things on track and you earn the - um - right to use the footy.” The game day interviews were becoming harder with each loss. When you don’t know where your next win is going to come from how can you convey any optimism to the fans? It had been six weeks since they’d tasted victory - they were now in a dog fight to avoid the wooden spoon.

Week Thirty-Eight
They’d done it! Two wins from their final two games and the wooden spoon was avoided. They’d curbed their attack back and beaten some fairly good opposition these final two matches. Still, much change was needed ahead of next season. The difference between fourteenth and the top eight was colossal. Coach Jackson had been told his position was dependent on the sides early results next season - he needed to win at any cost.

Week Fifty-Three
Coach Jackson entered the gym. He gave his introduction speech. Words like flair and roving halves had been replaced by conservatism and split halves. A wrestling coach was introduced and the basketball hoop removed. The next two weeks were to be spent running and wrestling - they wouldn't see a football for any extended period until the New Year.

“If we complete our sets and get to the kick we’ll be in the grind every game”, concluded Coach Jackson.

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750 words in OWC

 

[Jesbass]

With the exception of Broncoman's article being reposted by proxy, this match is goooorrrrrrnnnneee...

 

[Big Mick]

Isn't it 8pm?

 

[Azkatro]

Azkatro for the Panthers.

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My fondest memory

I think we all have a fond memory of when we were a kid playing rugby league, trying to emulate our heroes.

Mine happened when I was a skinny 15-year-old kid playing tackle rugby league on the school playground during HPE (Health & Physical Education) class.

For the most part, it was a pretty embarrassing display. Some of the boys were quick, a few actually knew how to play and fewer still actually knew how to tackle. A couple of them were a fair bit bigger than the rest of us too.

So when one of the bigger lads got the ball, it was basically all over. The only question that remained was how he would go about scoring. Would he use his pace and athleticism to run around the hapless defenders? Or would he take them on and enjoy swatting away their feeble attempts at a tackle? Whichever way it went, the outcome was always the same.

What this situation needed was a hero. It was one of those ideal opportunities for the slow, skinny ugly kid to pull off a piece of magic and be forever remembered in the echelon of HPE rugby league.

But of course, that never happened did it? It was just a pipe dream. For some, days like these were a lesson in harsh reality. Deep down we all knew that it was just a question of not completely embarrassing yourself and coming out of the game unscathed. Hanging out on the wing was a good way to stay out of trouble.

On occasion, you got to have a break from the stress of the whole ordeal by being asked to take over at fullback for a while. This meant you could just stand around, and if someone made a break, the ball carrier would easily outmaneouvre you. One particular day, the HPE teacher decided to give me a break. “OI, SHAWN! DROP BACK TO FULLBACK!”

I trotted back, positioning myself fairly deep, and kept my eyes peeled for a chip and chase. Other than that though, I sat back and enjoyed watching the other kids try and tackle the big fast unit.

The dreamer in me wondered what I would do in the event of a line break. I embellished the thought for a moment… The fast kid with the ball, running towards me… and the moment of decision arrives. Will he step left or right? I look him in the eye… he looks left and breaks the other way… I pick it beautifully and bring him down metres short of the line, in a classic grassing tackle around his legs.

I smirk to myself at the prospect of such a heroic display. That would be nice to pull off, just once. Even if it was a fluke. The more I ponder it, the more I start to convince myself it could really happen. I start seriously considering how I would time it and where I would have to grab to bring him down.

And just as I’m lost in that thought, it happens.

That big bastard has got the ball, he’s broken the line and the only thing between him and scoring is me.

Given what I'd just been daydreaming about, I thought maybe - just maybe - this was my moment. My chance to shine. I looked up at the guy as he looked back. I didn't look away.

The reason I didn't look away is because I wanted to watch his eyes to see if he was going to telecast his next move.

However, on this particular day, he decided to take it as a challenge. A confrontation.

He didn't break the eye contact either.

He just looked me right in the eye and kept running hard. Straight at me.

Surprisingly, the feeling of being trampled over by a guy twice my size wasn't so bad. The adrenalin was pumping enough for me to not really feel the aches and bruises until later in the day.

After it happened, I looked up at everyone, genuinely expecting them all to be, as they say, rolling on the floor laughing. Their looks would probably best be described as relief that I was still alive. I looked over towards the big bloke who had just scored. He was wearing his usual shit-eating grin.

After that ordeal, all remained well in the world. There would be no miracles today. No heroes. Thankfully, there were no injuries either.

Just a fond memory.

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747 words. Liftoff!

 

[Azkatro]

Oops, sorry. I posted without checking. Are we too late? Is that it? :lol:

 

[bartman]

I think NZ daylight savings started last weekend, but Aussie daylight savings starts this weekend, so there might be a trans-pacific mix-up with declaring the AEST fulltime?

 

[bartman]

And by my count 2100AEST has just ticked by now, rather than an hour or so before.

Good luck to both teams!

 

[Willow]

Oops, sorry. I posted without checking. Are we too late? Is that it? :lol:

Daylight Savings doesn't start in Sydney until next Sunday, so you were in before 9:00pm (Syd time, as per the rules).

Daylight Savings started in NZ last Sunday, which might explain the error.

World Clock website: http://www.timeanddate.com/worldclock/

 

[broncoman]

Who thought changing half a sentence could cause such a massive stir, have absolutely no idea what happened with my article during the edit. Probably karma for being on here at work. It's edited to its original glory for the record.