2011 FINALS - Minor Semi Final: Ninjas -V- Titans

[Jesbass]

2011 Finals Series: Minor Semi Final​

Chuck Norris Texas Death Ninjas (3) -V- Gold Coast Titans (4)​

-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 4th September 2011 (2100AEST)
Full Time: Wednesday 14th September 2011 (2100AEST)
Referee: maelgwnau
Venue: The Front Row Stadium

Previous Matchups This Season:
Titans 435 v Ninjas 433 (Round 3)
Ninjas 347 v Titans 267 (Round 8)

Winner plays the Preliminary Final against the loser of the Major Semi Final.
Loser is eliminated.​

 

[edabomb]

Ninjas arrive at the ground. Best of luck all.

Starting
edabomb (c)
CobyDelaney
gUt
jamesgould
joshie

Bench
Hallatia
paulquinn49

 

[Titanic]

It's that time of the year when position on the ladder means nothing, just the game in front of you... it's Finals time, it's knock-out time. Still reeling from the group concussion of the team buses sudden stop, here come the Titans:

1. Amadean
6. tits&tans
7. Titan Uranus
9. TT.BB
11. Titanic

Bench
2. Tittoolate
8. bgdc
13. TITs ANonymouS

 

[gUt]

Climbing out of his hospital bed, ripping the drip from his bulging arm, seizing the young nurse by the waist and planting a passionate kiss on those soft lips, realizing it was the male nurse and that a terrible mistake has been made, gUt rides his IV trolley all the way to the ground, gown flapping in the wind, pert buttocks exposed as he takes the ball from his captain and continues to roll straight into the defensive line, with:

Stray Talkin’

Hello again readers! Big Mark Liar here ready to take another big literary hitup into the teeth of the Chuck Norris Texas Death Ninjas Rugby League Football Magazine’s (known popularly as CNTDNRLFM) readership, which is you, the reader(s)! Get ready to sink those aforementioned teeth into this big literary hitup from me, big Mark Liar!

* So, finals footy is upon us once again, just as I predicted it would be way back in round 1. I hinted in that column that I had predicted the ladder and literally billions of “emails” have flooded my “inbox” since then, actually begging me to reveal to you my predicted ladder! Well I can finally let the cat out of the bag! My predicted ladder back then was:

1. Melbourne Storm
2. Manly Sea Eagles
3. Brisbane Broncos
4. St George Dragons
5. Wests Tigers
6. New Zealand Warriors
7. North Queensland Cowboys
8. Newcastle Knights

Oh well, not even us multi millionaire media stars and CNTDNRLFM columnists can be 100% right 100% of the time!

* The wild scenes at the Manly/Melbourne game were enough to turn my rippling stomach. What a disgusting sight it was to see these overpaid, overhyped, overseas, oversexed, and overpaid “athletes” thrashing around like idiots. For shame! Back in my playing days there were never any fights for any reason whatsoever, except for when we got angry with each other. But even then we didn’t let the fight spill over the sideline! They happened either inside the sideline, or outside it, but never both!

It was a terrible look for the game that wants to appeal to women and children and women-children. But what have those bigwigs and cigar-smoking fat-cats down at NRL HQ done about it? The usual: NOTHING! Not good enough! The players involved should have their arms surgically removed and only attached again when they’ve served some sort of penance, like community service – removing graffiti, picking up litter, that sort of thing.

* Every day I receive millions of “emails” asking whom I think will win the premiership. They are never specific about which year’s premiership or even which competition so I just write back and tell them to f**k off.

* I think Melbourne have a chance to win this year’s premiership. However, Manly could well win it, but let’s not forget Brisbane. The Tigers could win this year’s premiership but don’t write the Dragons off just yet! The Warriors could well be in with a big chance of winning this year’s premiership, unless the Cowboys win it! The Knights are my smokies. Time will tell if I’m right!

* Speaking of Melbourne and Manly, what a wonderfully energetic, tense, tough, competitive and thrilling game these two teams played recently! Personally I love the fierce rivalry these clubs have and it certainly showed on the night! It was a great look for the game and I applaud the NRL bosses for their swift action. The wild scenes on the sidelines and the brawl leading up to it have got the fans talking around the water cooler! When they get too loud, I tell them to f**k off.

* The annual Dally M’s have come and gone. Although my invitation was once again lost in the post I was able to go along and enjoy the sights and smells of the red carpet, as I was pinned to it by those thuggish security guards. Apparently asking a certain player’s missus if I could sneak in under her dress - because after all there was plenty of room under the fat cow’s outcrop of an arse - doesn’t wash too well with these sensitive, sooky “men” that play rugby league these days! When I get out of the lockup I will read the papers and let you all know what my Dally M predictions were!

* The State of the Game report is due to be released and boy it should be an interesting read. One thing’s for sure: it will be properly spell checked. Other than that, I think it’s safe to say there will be a few surprises in store! I can’t say much more than that as my sources have been under increased scrutiny since I accidentally named them all publically on television last week. To their credit, they deny they’ve ever spoken to me, at all, about anything, ever. You be the judge, CNTDNRLFM readers!

And that’s the way Big Mark sees it. Until then, tell ‘em Mark sent ya!

746 OWC

 

[joshie]

Joshie steps out onto the playing field for his appearance in this make or break final! the Ninja's have had a great year and now its time to go on with it, back up our Willow Cup victory! LETS GO NINJAS!

Pain only hurts when you feel it.

As I sit down in my waiting room chair, I look around thoroughly, with eager eyes - hoping, waiting, and wondering. I cannot remember how I got here at all. I can remember lying down on my bed, having an argument with my ‘friend’ Luek. Does this mean I lost, and he punched me out and sent me to hospital? Or does this mean I am in the land of exquisite dreams? My dream-self is wearing my beloved Cowboys jersey.

Luek had been a terrible friend to me. I nurtured him and in return he ruined me. He was a con artist. He snuck in and robbed me of everything, like a thief in the night. He took it all from me; my family – gone; my career - gone. My passion and desires all evaporated when this man revealed himself to me.

But yet, here the stress is gone, the pain of what Luek had done to me merely a distant memory, like a childhood regret.

Soon another man joins me in the room. I thought I was going to be alone in this den for hours. Should I go talk to him or should I stay here? He looks as confused and concerned as I feel. How did he get here? How on earth did I get here?

This man could be a fellow League fan. Well, he has to be, he is wearing a Warriors jersey after all. I should go and speak to him, but I am not sure if my courage can withstand another beating. He looks washed out, tired, but yet he has an aurora of accomplishment, a sense of pride. From just a glance you can just tell this strong figure has a great heart.

He speaks to me in that dream-speak that seems to move through the air like a bubble through honey.

“I have to know why and how I am here. The last thing I remember was running along the beach, and feeling the soft, warm sand under my feet. Then I entered the water and woke up here. Why did I enter the water? Cowboys, what are we doing here?”

“I am not exactly too sure, Warriors.”

So many unanswered questions!

We’re alone but we’re together. I feel more at peace now. This room is just so clear and white. It reminds me of a blank sheet of paper – calm and Zen. The only colour in this whole place is my jersey and Warriors’ jersey. I can feel nothing. I am virtually empty inside, but I am okay. Luek is gone and my family will understand. I just wish we could leave this damn place now. It is not very kind on the eyes; it is just an overload of nothingness.

“Hey Warriors, do you think we will be okay? I mean, I have no idea how I ended up here…”

“Cowboys, we will be fine. We just have to keep waiting; we will find out, I know we will.”

I hope we will be okay. I am just hoping that we get some answers soon. I know everyone will understand, there is no turmoil here, and somehow the emptiness seems positive, a humble abode of purity. This is how our world should feel - it should be like this all the time - a sense of security, no fear, no delusions of self-image, and a calm acceptance of an unknown future.

It will be over soon, all this waiting.

“Cowboys, how do we know each other? Why are we here together?”

“I am not sure at all, but I for one really want answers!”

I sense something happening. I glance over to the door on my left and I hear footsteps approaching. Who is this? What is going on?

I see Warriors get anxious, but I have to show courage and strength for him. We’re in this together and now we will find out what the hell is going on. I hope for the best, I hope we are okay. Please let us be fine. Please.

A commanding, yet comforting voice breaks the silence:

“Oh, Sonny and Sam. We have been expecting you. Please, follow me Mr. Fai. Mr. Faust, I’ll come for you soon. You won’t be forgotten, we promise.”

 

[TooheysNew]

CobyDelaney for the Ninjas

Experimental Rule Changes
We all agree that our game is the best in the world. However, if it were up to me, there are a few small changes I would make. While the NRL competition generally prides itself upon its bruising defence and typically low score lines, I’m of the belief that an emphasis on promoting attack would make our sport even more attractive to the average punter. Some of my propositions are merely nods to the past while others are somewhat radical and unprecedented.

The first amendment I would make to our rules would be an increased focus upon the field position in general play. The majority of attacking plays within our game come off the back of strong field position and sustained pressure. Currently we reward a strong long kicking game in only one way – the 40/20. A better solution would be to reward other long kicks in a similar fashion. For example, a kick from anywhere in the teams own half that goes out on the bounce in the oppositions half should be rewarded with a scrum where the ball went out. This would cause wingers and fullbacks to be constantly standing deep, opening up the front defensive line to more vulnerability and attacking options.

And while I’m on the topic of scrums, our game would do well to see a return to real scrums. That is a full forward contingent, the ball fed down the centre channel and an even contest for possession. What I don’t want to see is Luke Burt pretending he’s a prop and packing into the scrum. If he tried that in the seventies there would probably just be a gaping hole where his head used to be. I miss the days of overweight men face down in ankle deep mud, practically drowning after a scrum collapse, hairy arse cracks winking at the backline.

The fat bloke seems to be a forgotten entity, replaced by Adonis-like physiques, chiselled abs and hair-gel commercials. Old Norm sitting on the couch in his y-fronts with a beer simply cannot relate to the new direction the game has taken. George Rose is the final warrior in this regard, his jersey stretched over his ample stomach as he runs for the try line, possessed like he’s chasing the last slice of pizza. Sure, it won’t get the ladies back, but who cares? It’s a man’s game anyway.

Currently, it wouldn’t be that far of a stretch for a NRL team to run out with fat blokes playing 1-17. After all, specialist backline positions are slowly being thrown by the wayside. Centres and five-eighths alike have just been replaced with second-rowers, so to put a fat prop out there is not much of a leap. Centres don’t even play like centres anymore and the concept of a backline is completely out dated.

Don’t you miss the days of a smooth backline movement? Halfback gets the ball at first receiver, hits the five-eighth on the chest with a crisp pass, who then cuts the inside centre to the outside centre, followed by a flick pass for the winger. That sort of a set play makes my mouth water. Unfortunately, today we get one of the halves (who knows which?) passing to the right second row, who then (if he manages to not knock it on), passes it to the right centre, who passes it to the right winger, running his pre-determined, narrow channel down the right of the field. It’s not exciting, and it’s often a low percentage play because it relies on forwards actually being able to catch. They can’t do that, it’s not in their job description!

The last thing I’d change is our game’s prevalence of penalty kicks for goal. Yay – guaranteed two points just because the opposition gave a bloke a bit of a punch up or a face massage. Are we men, or are we schoolgirls? Let the blokes do what blokes do! Ancient Romans watched gladiators, Europeans watched public beheadings, and we like watching football fights! Teams should be rewarded for fights, not punished for starting them. If we’re going to get all squeamish about fights, we may as well make the penalty goals worth three points, so that we completely discourage fighting. That’ll teach ‘em!

Sure, these are simple rule changes, but they’d make our game more of a spectacle. Why hasn’t anyone thought of them before?

Wait, this does actually sound awfully familiar.

Sounds a lot like Rugby Union.

Odd…

 

[TT.BB]

TT.BB for the Titans (749 owc)
TT.BB on the scene after getting lost on the way to the stadium last week.

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

Goodbye Cruel World

My father is a religious man, actually quite the speaker and inspiration; he has cared and served others in his community for over 25 years. I remember him giving a speech once at a junior rugby league presentation night; a suitably stirring rendition honoring all those who had excelled both on and off the field that year. His story was “The Cries of the Man Who Jumped off a 100 Story Building”.

Never mind the influence on a group of 12 year olds who would soon enter their angst-filled teenage years and who may even consider literally following the story’s central character. In fact, Dad was unwittingly predicting my team’s catastrophic plunge in NRL 2011.

I've listened to sports analysts since, extolling how great the season opening weekend feels because every team and their fans believe they have a chance, anticipation runs rife. Only the teams that are not up to par are actually jumping off a building. Our jumper was just like that, as he leapt off the building and descended from the roof to Floor 80. Shocked witnesses on the top floor heard him beckon all who could hear to join his fun, although only no one really wanted to follow. In fact those first few floors were probably quite exhilarating.

I remember feeling this way during the first few weeks of the season. Wait, no I didn't. We got smashed right from the first game and did not get a win until Week 4.

Had our jumper been like a team destined for the playoffs he would have eventually leveled out, sprouted Sea Eagle wings, and taken off to the wide open sky; however, Floors 79-60 were actually spent going through the motions. It was still kind of fun, but doubts had crept in and all those watching from the roof, in the stands, and through the windows knew what our man suspected - that he was a goner.

Seeing your team give up large leads and executing horrible goal line defense in crunch time kind of feels like that. You probably still believe the season can turn out okay, but really you know it's over and that you are past salvation.

Floors 59-40 are bitter pills to swallow. This is when you start calculating the mathematical chances of making the Finals. However, when every point becomes so hard to come by, mathematics starts giving way to inevitability that your season is going to be over on the last week of the regular season.

Our man realizes by the 39th floor that his life will definitely be over at Week 25 aka ground zero plus one. Yes, this really is starting to feel like this season. He's not too happy about it all anymore because he knows in the back of his mind that it's over and he's only reached the half way mark: it's that same feeling of having only three wins at Week 13.

A little aside, Dad's story included the part where our man tries to make right and say a prayer. I know some probably don't care too much for religious talk but if you've jumped off a 100-story building, hurtling past floors 39-20 would probably incite the most heathen of us to consider confessions. As you may have guessed, everyone who's looking at this ordeal from way up there at the top of the table, err building, have seen this drama and want to look away because they know the futility of it all; the end part when the team/he falls at such a dizzying pace.

Our subject here also says a prayer, similar to that of the Parramatta Eels’ prayer for 12 point leads to be held thereby keeping you out of last place. Everyone watching truly pities you when in the end the Roosters score 13 unanswered points. Just like our guy nearing the end of his fateful journey, this speaks last minute capitulation is nothing compared to our beating at the hands of Wests’ Tigers where we were already down 22-4 at oranges.

Through the last floors our friend was finishing his prayer, begging and pleading for his eternal soul. However, like the fixture between our beloved Titans and the aforementioned Eels there will be no true winner, only two splats on the pavement: one soon forgotten, as all teams that finish second or second last in this case are whilst the other is condemned to be damned and immortalized with the leprous wooden spoon.

 

[Titan Uranus]

Hello, TU here once more for the Titans. 742 words below the line according to the OWC.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Love’s Labours Lost?​

Parting is such sweet sorrow, so spoke the Bard, presciently describing the off-season a few hundred years before its existence.

I too have recently parted (for now) with a beautiful love of mine whom we shall call Titania.

First the parting, it is such sweet sorrow as although everything has to end it is always sad when it does. The good times can’t last forever.

If there were so few good times to end then it might seem better, but it is still sad as with the finality of this separation came a confirmation that, yes, this year was as every bit has bad as I thought it was and now nothing can be done about it, there are no more straws left to clutch.

The sweetness comes in remembering the good times Titania and I had, however brief they may have been. It is great knowing that together we were so powerful that we could slay dragons but I must stop myself from living in the past and looking back on our experiences with a rose-tinted gaze.

I have to face the facts that things were not going well between Titania and I and parting at such a time could be devastating for our love. It is said that long distances are to a relationship as wind is to a fire as while it inflames the great, it puts out the weak.

When I think of all the effort, time, and money I’ve spent on her and all for nought this seems like the perfect time to break things off.

Even though I might complain to my friends about all the things she did wrong and how she doesn’t deserve my love I don’t think that our relationship can be extinguished so easily. What’s more this separation may be good for us as it gives a chance of stopping the rot. I hope it can provide the respite needed to take stock of the situation and stand back from it all, objectively assess it and make any changes that are necessary.

The problem comes in that we never really know for certain what are the changes we should make. Even when they are made it may take a long time before we know if they were the right things to do or not. At least if we were still together having regular interactions then we could make decisions whose effects could be known immediately or at least much sooner.

It this waiting that can bring if not sorrow then some kind of worry or angst. You hope and pray that everything will be better again when you get back together but the truth is you just never know and there is always the nagging doubt at the back of your mind that things will not be the same as they once were and may even get worse.

Then there comes the awkward situation of reuniting after being apart when you didn’t leave on such good terms. I don’t like awkward situations at the best of times, even if it’s watching other people in them for comedy, I just cringe for them. For me the one thing worse than an awkward reunification is the anticipation of an awkward reunification. My mind starts to wandering about all the things that might go wrong with it, and while any reunification, awkward or otherwise, are over very shortly the anticipation of one lasts months which only adds to my inner turmoil and torment.

That is why I’ve decided to try and stop being such a pessimist and to look forward with hope of a new beginning and a new start. To begin with I’ve decided to see Titania’s parting gift not as a sign of hopelessness or a mere kitchen utensil used for folding in cake mix but more like a Welsh lovespoon. It is representative of the love that bonds us to one another.

I know I have to believe in the two of us and that when we meet again it’ll be a new dawn full of new possibilities with the slate wiped clean if not then I don’t know if my mental health will be able to withstand yet another onslaught of melancholy.

So this break I’ll only embrace the sweetness and cast asunder the sorrow if she can start the new year afresh as if the last one had never happened then there’s no reason why I cannot.

 

[tits&tans]

tits&tans for the Titans ..

747 words (OWC) between the stars...

******

me me me me me

It’s good to indiscriminately rant. To get everything off your chest is healthy. To fume in private is probably more advisable but to vociferate in public can have its rewards. Our coach used to roar at us on the field, sometimes frothing at the mouth over even the smallest of things. My dad used to bellow at the TV if his team didn’t perform and I have spouted off on numerous occasions after important games.

However, to rant with purpose is even better and to scream about an issue about which you feel passionately justified is just sublime. Until becoming a cyclist in China, I didn’t think there was anything better. But, I think I may have discovered the ideal rant setup here in Nanjing.

Most days I cycle to and from the office. As long as I am on the road before 7 (which is when the millions of locals come out to play) it’s quite a pleasant ride and affords me a perfect opportunity to rant out loud in a forum where few people can understand me and even fewer notice. It is not unusual to pass cyclists having full conversations on their Bluetooth phones and pedestrians singing at the top of the lungs here, so, no one bats an eyelid as I bloviate to my heart’s content.

Ironically, the topic that constitutes the vast majority of my rants is something I actually wouldn’t notice as much if I wasn’t cycling. The idea is, essentially, that people are too god-damn self-centred.

Imagine, if you will, a giant intersection where four 8 lane roads meet which is governed by a complicated sequence of traffic lights. The intersecting area is covered in painted lines showing which direction cars, buses and cyclists should drive, and where they all should wait. On a busy morning when trucks and buses are thundering in all directions and even the simplest accident or person out of place would lead to hours of gridlock, why do some people decide to demonstrate this extreme level of self-involvement? It is both mind-bogglingly fascinating and utterly irritating that it is so commonplace to see, predominantly middle-aged men and older women, decide that it is perfectly acceptable for them to ignore all traffic signals, all frantic gestures from traffic policemen and the sounds of a hundred horns and weave out into traffic. Of course, I forgot, they need to make their way to their destination. Screw the lot of you, I’m off is clearly their message. And the rest of us then sit in the resulting bottleneck!

As with most things I encounter here, I try to make sense of them by using well-known things. I try to ascribe familiar characteristics and explanations to such baffling situations. One of my standard yardsticks is rugby league.

So I began to think …

The first name that flashed into my mind in giant gold letters was $BW, who not only switched clubs mid-season but changed codes altogether. The K Hunt fiasco also sprung to mind, as did our friend Israel Folau. Even recently, Jamal Idris’s declaration of love for the Titans demonstrated a certain level of self-interest.

I then thought about how the media like to follow Jarryd Hayne around like a fart. This is not something that happened by chance but was a carefully planned self-aggrandizing campaign by an extremely egotistical persona.

Of course, it is not only players that are guilty of too high a level of self-involvement. In a wider sense, clubs do exactly the same thing. Storm, with its salary cap issues, privately-owned South Sydney, as well as NRL’s money machine in Brisbane all show this capacity with their financially-driven and transparent transfers and decisions. They are just looking out for themselves.

Hell, even Frank Sinatra sang about this.
​

I then realized that this high level of self-involvement exists at home as well, and what I am experiencing on the dusty streets of Jiangsu is just a cultural manifestation of the same thing.

That made it easier to understand but not easier to swallow.

We are not, as it appears on the surface, one society, bound together by similar interests and shared threats but rather a loose confederation of warring tribes. This makes sense as footie is, in essence, a tribal sport.

Now that that is settled, I can return to my second favourite morning rant, which is the piss-poor performance of a certain blue and yellow team in recent months …

 

[edabomb]

edabomb for the Ninjas
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An American Prayer

In the world of Rugby League there are thousands of characters that have been lost in the background. In the age before forums you heard about ‘the next big thing’ through word of mouth, or even watching the local football in person. If you were around the Parramatta region in 1983 you would have heard about a youngster they called the next Peter Sterling - Roger Kent was his given name. By the end of 1985 he was more commonly referred to as the next Jim Morrison.

By the start of 1986 Parramatta’s Chief Executive had had enough. With Peter Sterling and Brett Kenny locked into long term deals the Eels no longer needed a back policy, especially not when Roger came to preseason ten kilograms overweight. The CEO called Roger into his office and proceeded to give him an ultimatum. “Frankly, there is no future for you at Parramatta, but there is something else on the table. The ARL is looking at expanding the game globally. This is the opportunity of a lifetime Roger, you’d get to go to the USA and generate some interest in the great game. You’ll be earning more money than the majority of guys playing first grade here, and you’ll have a chance to leave this lifestyle behind. The ARL is looking at playing a State of Origin game over there in the near future - you’ll get to be a part of the promotion. You are a sharp kid, you shouldn’t be wasting your life on the bottle and in the hope that Sterlo or Kenny go down injured.” Roger didn’t have to think long - he’d grown to despise his nightly routine of a trip to bottle store, a hazy evening cursing the Eels incumbent halfback and then a throbbing head in the morning. He had nothing keeping him in Sydney; he was a Parramatta boy through and through and would never play against the blue and yellows. Any ladies that had been in his life had long been turned off by the musky odour of Jack Daniels that followed him five nights a week. Within a month he boarded a plane set for Los Angeles - and quickly set to work on the complimentary drinks.

As Roger stood there in his Long Beach Lions jersey he reflected on the past couple of months. It had been a tough move initially, Roger’s lingering resentment towards Peter Sterling’s mortgage on his number seven jersey continued to plague him - and the bottle was the easiest answer. The ARL hadn’t put him up in the most luxurious of accommodation - and after he heard gunshots outside three weeks into his stint he decided that the liquor wasn’t worth the risk. Dallas kept him entertained at night - and the amount of channels to flick between fuelled a far less harmful addiction. The local rugby league was good fun - he was easily the best player on the scene and commanded the respect of his team mates and opponents. The local players mainly consisted of American Football rejects fresh out of High School who were just happy to be able to tell girls that they were playing ‘football of the future’. In December on 1986 Roger received the call - there was to a State of Origin match played in Los Angeles in August of 1987, and he was to co-promote it.

He didn’t have much experience promoting - and to be honest neither did many of his colleagues. They did their best - continuing to build interest in the game. The issue was they were working in a flooded market - Los Angeles still had the Raiders, and the ‘Showtime’ Los Angeles Lakers were the hottest ticket in town.

While the event was far from an overwhelming success, the ARL was impressed with Roger’s performance. He was offered a fulltime marketing position back in Australia – an appointment that thrilled his family. Things had come full circle in the past twelve months, and Roger Kent had redeemed his name. A crowd of 12,349 made their way to Veterans Stadium on Long Beach to watch a dour encounter. Roger had had the time of his life though, and he even had put a personal touch on the promotion. As Peter Sterling got caught up, struggling to run through the banner as he entered the playing field, Roger sat back in his seat and laughed. Finally Roger had gotten one over Sterlo.


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737 words in OWC

 

[jamesgould]

For the Ninjas:



The Big Night

He stood outside the dressing room, in the player’s tunnel, for what seemed like an eternity. In the distance, he could see the glow of light and a faint green tinge that represented the playing field which he had graced so many times before.

As he shuffled his feet around nervously he heard the crack of boots on concrete. He heard the roar of the crowd outside as the announcer whipped the masses into a frenzy. The sound was overwhelming ... the sheer volume of people at the ground must be massive, he thought to himself.

Of course, he had done this so many times before ... but not like this. There was no point denying it, this time it was completely different. This was bigger than anything he’d ever faced before. He braced himself to walk onto the hallowed turf. A place at which he’d had his greatest glories in rugby league. As that thought hit him, it all suddenly struck home. He felt queasy in his stomach, and his legs wavered beneath him. He lurched towards a wall, and used one arm to brace against it for support.

He turned around. Thanking his lucky stars, he saw nobody had been watching. This was the last thing he needed.

His thoughts turned to Wayne Bennett in the dressing room opposite him. He could almost hear him through the wall, his commanding presence firing his team up for this ultimate occasion. To think he would virtually be facing him soon - the thought filled him with dread. He couldn’t think of a fate any worse.

The thought of the master coach inspiring his troops cast his mind back to his first grade debut, in the mid 90's. Back then, as a skinny, wide-eyed kid, he could never have dreamed of how far he’d go with his club in rugby league. Staying a one club man for all that time was something he was immensely proud of ... not to mention captaining the club ... and the premiersh -

“Are you ready?”

The words snapped him out of it. He silently nodded his head, composed himself and straightened his body. When he took the field, he wanted to look the part. This was going to be his finest hour.

He half walked, half jogged onto the field. He looked around him as he took the pitch, at the faces that all seemed to be staring at him. He’d raced onto the field so many times before, but had never experienced anything like this! Still, the familiar smells, noises and sights greeted him. A young fan waved and he waved back. His blood pressure slowed and he started to feel a little more at home.

Sure there were a ton of people in the crowd, but so what?! He’d dealt with that a million times before. It was nothing!

Then he saw the television cameras. They were pointing right at him. Suddenly, a new fear grasped him. He felt tight in the chest and struggled for breath for a second. As he gasped air into his lungs (despite their protests) he tried to reason with himself. But he knew why he was feeling like this.

It had never been all about him before. He was always happy to be just part of the team. A drummer in the band. He didn’t seek out the limelight, but somehow he had got himself into this situation. Pretty soon, everybody at home would be focussing 100% on him. HE was the focus of tonight. Imagine if he messed up ... if things didn’t go as he hoped and expected. People would work out what he was pretty quickly ... a fraud and a failure.

With just seconds to go, he tried one last time to compose himself. Focus! You can do this!!!




***




It was round 8, 2008 when Mark O’Neill took the sideline commentary position for Brisbane vs Wests, in front of 11,177 hardy souls on a chilly Saturday night at the vast Telstra Stadium.

Only a few weeks into the job, his sideline comments were as un-insightful, monosyllabic, and awkward as ever.

Viewers were to remark to each other that it almost seemed as if he was reading from a script.

His efforts at the post-match press conference failed to garner any quotable responses, particularly from a typically un-forthcoming Wayne Bennett.

O’Neill’s sideline commentary career with Foxsports came to it's conclusion several weeks later, by both party's mutual agreement, and to the relief of viewers across the nation.

 

[Titanic]

Titanic for the Titans (747 OWC)
______________________
Mascots

What a season it’s been for the NRL’s mascots and I don’t mean Sydney airport.

One could have been forgiven for thinking that it was lights out for Melbourne’s sparky Storm in a Teacup Man when they pulled his plug in 2010; however, he has rebounded in 2011 with the vengeance of a Bass Strait tempest. Following the traditions of the kick ‘n’ giggle sport played by his neighbors, he has risen well above the pack, kicked a lot of goals and bared a behind or two.

At the other end of the scale on the Gold Coast, Monsieur Soft Blade, the Titans mascot famous for his slightly-oversized gloves, couldn’t do anything to stop the less than formidable southern strike force of the toothless Raidersaurus Rex or the aptly named Bondi c**k. As an aside, it was pleasing for all mascot fans to see Rex and c**k put their club-level differences aside and finally proved that they can play together for the NSW Bruised Blues, not that it did them any good.

It has been rumoured that much-maligned coach Icky Sticky Licky Stewed-Dickee will be utilising VJ Sting’s Raidersaurus as a bargaining chip next season, thanks mainly to the availability of high-profile mascots the coop-flying Eagor the Eagle and Townsville’s Humorous Pan-Racial Cow-Poking Mascot Entertainment Figure.
Back in the West, Tigers boss Tammy Shines admits it will be hard for the merged club to hang on to precocious youngster Massive Magpie as the club has decided to put its support behind legendary veteran, the terrifying Timmy the Tiger. Magpie has been attracting attention from Manly-Warringalah after a blistering season and the aforementioned departure of the plucked one. Magpie successfully provoked 17 opposition players into swearing at him and, in a streak without equal in the NRL, is yet to make a confused young fan cry as a result of his grotesque, larger-than-life appearance.

Shines said: “Massive is a young mascot, and while we think he will be best served learning his trade with us, he obviously wants to challenge himself at the highest level. We’ve all heard the rumours about a re-colouring job and a move to the North Shore, but I can categorically state we have not had a formal approach.”

Meanwhile crowd favourite Reggie Rabbit has received the dreaded vote of confidence from club boss Richard Shaneson. After converting just one of the last 10 penalties he has faced from young fans, the furry custodian had been rumoured to be leaving Redfern to be replaced by veteran Italia 90 mascot and international playboy Ciao who is a close friend of Souths’ gladiatorial owner Weasel Croweater and was seen taking in a game at the SFS recently with girlfriend Linda Evangelista.

Returning to more mundane regions up on the central coast; Dorothy’s tin man Rin Tin Tinkler and his knight in slightly soiled armour Benny Longneck have colluded to approach the Dragoons’ mascot, Leaping Like A Scorched Lizard, as their flagbearer next year after Knytro was sentenced to two years hard labour for abuse of grammatical conventions. Putting on his coal face, Rinty said, “All that glitters is not gold but gold will buy all that glitters and that includes six Chinese corporate spies, football whore Hairyarse Boide, his hooker cousin Daniel Budhairyarse and the Telstra Chalice.” The NRL tried to terrorise the Hunter’s loose cannon into a retraction when their underseige CEO the Great Galloot issued an ultimatum instructing Australia’s most unattractive billionaire to lose 50kgs by the end of pre-season or risk being charged with bringing the game into disrepute.

Perennial hacks’ vanguard McHammerhead and his soulmate Reefy have been sighted regularly on Kangaroo Island where it has been reliably reported that they have been enrolled in the Great Southern TAFE College. Although their club Nullanulla has been tight jawed about their activities, Muse Limited suggests that they have been receiving pointers from a great white, hoping to add a little more bite to 2012.

Sentimental competition ladies favourite Buckme Dead of Brisvegas has won notoriety for his role in the Oscar Award winning documentary on gentlemen’s tours to Thailand entitled Hung Like A Hack.

Finally it is congratulations to Penrith’s Phuquing Big Panther who won the Mascot Writer’s Mascot of the Year at a boozy dinner at the Clovelly Hostel for All Homeless Souls earlier this week. The less said about his acceptance speech the better although I wouldn’t be giving too much away if I hinted at size, colour and felinity.

 

[Amadean]

Amadean struts aimlessly around for the Titans, until the signal from the captain releases 747 words of pure passion.

***********


In Memoriam

Saturday the 17th of September will bear witness to an awesome occasion; the final Bennett vs. Lockyer. In honour of this weekend’s ‘Clash of the Titans’* we take a moment to think back on the joys of League with which Sir Wayne and Sir Darren have provided us over the years. Unquestionably two of the greats, they have moulded dynasties, inspired excellence and have ever performed with passion.

The scientific genius from these men (when to challenge the line, when to rouse a team to peak performance and, most of all, when to stay silent) deserves respect. And so we present the following pointed list of adoration:

• Reasons Darren Lockyer and Wayne Bennett should receive knighthoods:
  • Lockyer’s patented “show ‘em the ball, show ‘em the ball, ghost-through-the-line” move, mentored by Wayne Bennett
  • Bennett’s incredible success in identifying and supporting future Australian Test greats, as typified by Darren Lockyer
  • They are Queenslanders
  • See Point (c)
  • They have bought utter delight to thousands of Australians through their astonishingly creative brilliance at the international level of our beloved Rugby League.

• Things that make Sir Wayne Bennett smile:
  • 
    [list will be updated upon occurrence of actual event]

• People with huskier voices than Sir Darren Lockyer
  • The Marlboro Man
  • ‘Paulo The Magnificent’ (professional cement-mixer impersonator, bare-knuckle boxer, flautist, sword-swallower and one-time Prima Ballerina for the Cologne U-18’s ballet company)
  • Robocop during a sour-mash whiskey hangover
  • My ex-girlfriend
  • tits&tans’ ex-girlfriend
  • Titanic’s ex-girlfriend
  • Titan Uranus’ current wife

• Quotable Quotes
  • Sir Wayne: “Worry is like a rocking-chair. It gives you something to do but gets you nowhere.”
  • Sir Wayne: “I understand the video referee said the ball wasn't stripped. I don't know how he worked that out.”
  • Sir Wayne: “I looked at him and said 'I suppose what would be good for the game would be for Australia to lose a series', ... He [Love] nodded and said 'yes'. And I said 'yes, but I don't want to be the coach when that happens'.”
  • Sir Darren: "I just think if you finish in the top four, you should be allowed a second chance. You've worked that hard all year, you earn the right to have a second chance."
  • Sir Darren: “Everyone was saying that we were going to lose the Ashes for the first time in 30 years and I was going to be the captain"
  • Sir Darren: “It’s Origin. It’s built on passion”
  • Sir Darren: "St George, they won 11 premierships with one Raper. Imagine how many Canterbury will win."

• Matches
  • Won with Sir Wayne as coach: 679, of which 59 were representative-level
  • Played by Sir Darren: 453, of which 99 were representative-level

• The formation of dynasties
  • Sir Wayne: The Canberra Raiders (1987)
  • Sir Wayne: The Brisbane Broncos (1988)
  • Sir Wayne: St. George Illawarra (2009)
  • Sir Darren: Australia (1998)
  • Sir Darren: Queensland (1998)
  • Sir Darren: The Brisbane Broncos (1995)

• Memorable match-ups
  • Sir Wayne against Sir Darren, this weekend.
  • Seriously, it is going to be a match for the ages
  • What else do you need? Ok, fine.
  • Take any one of those games where Queensland beat NSW. It really doesn’t matter which one, they’re all good.
  • Honestly, which particular match is irrelevant; trying to hide Lockyer’s genius or shade Bennett glow is like trying to disguise Uluru using a fake moustache: ineffective, insulting and rather confusing.

• Ways they’ll be missed
  • Lockyer’s body-on-the-line approach to defence, kicking and speaking.
  • Bennett’s proud history of coaching teams that weren’t full of bloody NSWelshmen (except Boyd – he’s cool).
  • If we’re completely open with one-another, this has all been a rather convoluted attempt by me to come to grip with my feelings. I guess that the departure of Lockyer signifies my own personal end of an era. Lockyer started with the Broncos right around when I started to care deeply about League – and he’s always been there. And he’s always been brilliant. Wayne will still be around, but without the inexhaustible genius of Sir Darren, well, I guess my world of League will be a little poorer, and a little sadder.
  • I just hope the game still makes me smile when he’s gone.

*Not the Gold Coast Titans, but some guys who are actually good at what they do

 

[Jesbass]

The referee calls a halt to proceedings, citing his inability to hear himself think above "that bloody racket". And the crowd is silenced...

 

[edabomb]

Congrats on a 5 vs 5 contest everyone involved. This is going to be a close one, best of luck all

 

[Titanic]

Great effort both teams ... a fitting finals clash.

Over to you, sir.

 

[maelgwnau]

Hi Everybody.

This was my first match as a ref and i enjoyed reading all your articles,

NINJAS:

Edabomb 737WC
Score 79
Was a very interesting article.

CobyDelaney
Score 81
Interesting ideas for rule changes

gUt 746WC
Score 78
Good article on how you see the finals

jamesgould
Score 86
Very good article, didnt know they parted ways

Joshie
Score 74
Interesting Read

TOTAL : 398

TITANS

Amadean 747WC
Score 73
Good article on Lockyer and Bennett

Tits & Tans 747WC
Score 81
Enjoyed your rant

Titan Uranus 742wc
Score 75
Very unusual but original peice

TT.BB 749WC
Score 79
Very good read

Titanic 747WC
Score 89
Great article based on Mascots

TOTAL 397

NINJAS 398 VS TITANS 397

MOM: Titanic

 

[gUt]

 

[Drew-Sta]

lol

Well done Ninja's, close game by all. Tough outing for both teams to lead into the finals!

 

[edabomb]

Wow what a tight contest - thanks to the ref.

Very unlucky with such a tight finish Titans - I'm sure we'll see you on the warpath next season