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2011 ROUND 1: Bluebags -V- Panthers

Jesbass

First Grade
Messages
5,654
Newtown Bluebags -V- Penrith Panthers


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-V-
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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 (+ 2 reserves for the visiting team, + 3 reserves for the home team)
* 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 13th March 2011 (2100AEST)
Full Time: Wednesday 23rd March 2011 (2100AEST)
Referee: Bartman
Venue: Henson Park

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Willow

Assistant Moderator
Messages
108,126
Finally... the baggers bus arrives onto the hallowed turf of Henson Park. A well rested bunch alight and are greeted by the local drinking team from Marrickville.

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THE NEWTOWN BLUEBAGS
F7s ROUND 1, 2011

Willow (c)
AlwaysGreen
The 18th Man
Drew-sta
...Morticia...

Bench:
Timmah
Rexxy
Red Bear


Good luck one and all. :thumn

 

Big Mick

Referee
Messages
26,239
The Panthers run out on the field fired up and ready to rumble:

Round 1 team:

1. Leaguenut
2. Madunit
3. Azkatro
4. Didgi
5. Goleel

RES:
6. Big Mick
7. The Piper
 

LeagueNut

First Grade
Messages
6,972
f7s_panthers_1.gif

LeagueNut - Panthers


Temptation

How many of us have been tempted by someone else?

I’m sure it happens to the best of us. It doesn’t matter how long you’ve been with someone, or how happy you think you are – sometimes another offer will pop up and really force some tough decisions.

Fate likes to pick us up by the scruff of the neck and throw us a few curve balls every now and then, giving us opportunities that might only come along once in a lifetime. It’s pretty common to think we haven’t done anything wrong to get into this situation - “it just happened” or “it came out of the blue” – but if we’re honest, we know there’s been a bit of groundwork done. We like to think it came as a “surprise” to protect our own conscience, but we’re just as guilty as anyone else involved.

Now it’s happening to me.

I thought I was happy. We’ve had a strong relationship for just over sixteen years now. Sure we’ve had our ups and downs, who hasn’t? For most of the time, we’ve been happy and stuck solid with each other.

But now there’s someone else.

I knew she was keen, and I made a few stupid throwaway remarks to tease her, so I guess I’m just as much to blame. A couple of years ago I started winding her up a bit more. I don’t know why I did it – maybe I wanted to see if I still had the “pulling power”. When things started getting too serious I backed away. But then she started making it plainly obvious that she was interested, and I didn’t know what to do.

So we hooked up – just once.

I don’t know quite what I was expecting, but it wasn’t the mind-blowing experience I thought it would be. Sure there were fireworks but afterwards things fell sort of flat – it was like “OK, now what?”. I guess she enjoyed it more than I did – probably because I was feeling guilty for most of the night. There’s no denying the fact that my “performance” wasn’t what it should have been, but she can’t take the blame for that.

Don’t get me wrong, she’s a lovely girl. I know she’s had a few more partners than I have, and we all know she’s had a bit of work done, but she really is quite stunning. If I were single she would be very hard to turn down, and I think we both know we could make each other very happy. That first night hasn’t put her off either – she’s already asking when we’ll be together again.

But I’m already in a committed, steady relationship. My current girl has stuck by me through some pretty tough times, and she’s made the effort over the years to keep in tip-top shape. I guess some may consider her to be more “homely” but I don’t see her that way. Yes she’s got a few signs of age coming through, and she won’t be entering any beauty contests anytime soon, but our relationship goes deeper than that. We’ve got history together – I know every curve, every bump and every corner.

So what do I do?

I’ve told a few of my trusted friends and naturally they’ve got their own opinions. If I put it to a vote, I’d say most of them would tell me to get back home and stay there. It’s better to stick with what you know … there’s nothing wrong with the way things are … you’re a great couple … you suit each other. There’s also quite a few who have loudly said they wouldn’t want anything more to do with me if I left her. I think they’re right with what they say, but I still see a glimmer of opportunity.

A few of my friends are telling me to make the jump. Apart from the obvious attraction between us, they reckon it would open up a whole new world for me as well. I’ll be able to move in different circles, make new and powerful friends, and move up a few notches in the corporate world.

I feel like I’m caught between a rock and a hard place. Stay where I am and be “comfortable”, or open the door to a whole new adventure with exciting possibilities – at the risk of alienating my friends on the way?

So what’s it going to be……

Mount Smart … or Eden Park?


741 words in the official counter - would I lie to you?
 

Didgi

Moderator
Messages
17,260
Didgi comes in for an early touch, hoping to settle the nerves on debut for the might Panthers.
*****
It’s not about winning (though it helps)

The little seven year old hurdles the low park fence, rushing over to where the team has gathered around a series of benches about the thirty metre line. Not noticing the sock that has fallen out of one of his boots, he plonks his kit down next to his best mate. The gentle chatter of discussing the game last night is pierced by the screams of proud parents the next field over. He sources the sock out of the mud, pulling on the next door neighbour’s hand-me-down boots. The coach throws him a jersey out of the kitbag, which he immediately switches. One is his number. It’s not a case of idolisation, though it plays some part. It loosely represents his position, though there are no real positions in such a young age group. There’s every kid’s dream to be the best, but he’s too humble for that. It’s his size – one is the smallest jersey in the kit.

He pulls on the still oversized jersey, tromping onto the field behind his teammates. Watching his brother play in the older divisions had inspired him to take up the game. Come the end of the game he will be able to hold his head high, proud of his performance. For a debut in the scrappy under sevens grade, he stands out as surprisingly cool headed. No running the wrong way, no hot-potato passes to teammates. There’s no sign of the fear of harm in rucking or tackling that is present in so many of his bigger teammates. In this grade the biggest and fastest boys are those who succeed, defence is non-existent, and ‘hot potato footy’ is common. This young man possesses none of those characteristics – and many parents, out of awe rather than manners, comment on his obvious talent.
As he walks off the ground, he is buzzing. It’s not the praise though, nor his two try performance. It’s the camaraderie, the enjoyment that children of all ages can get only from achieving the respect of their mates. He realises that there haven’t been many better feelings in his short life than the welcoming atmosphere amongst the Brothers Rugby League Club’s under sevens team. Even at this young age, it’s there.

It’s not present in other sports, this camaraderie. There’s no such thing in sports like Union or Aussie Rules. There’s something about standing shoulder to shoulder with mates that invokes the best of feelings in the human experience – and it dates back to the beginning of true Australian identity in World War I. The young boy doesn’t have a name, for he represents the generation next of rugby league stars. He doesn’t play the game for any one aspect, or because he dreams of making his NRL debut in 15 years. It’s because it’s fun, welcoming, the way every passionate kid wants to spend their Saturday morning.

So it seems rugby league isn’t dying, contrary to the embellished reports of player misbehaviour that seem to fill the newspapers each week. Despite the line of specialists who insist that if 2012 was a sport rugby league would be it, the increasing popularity of the game screams a worldwide contradiction. In what shall be referred to as the ‘good (?) old days’, the game was a much more dangerous animal than it is now, a much rougher contest. In reality, all that has changed in the present day, bar the quickened pace producing a more exciting game, is media coverage. Although new records in TV audiences were celebrated after round one, the media is hardly the game’s biggest supporter.

At many a story of alleged player misbehaviour, from lewd mad Monday celebrations to the shocking allegations of beer flicking from two international Cowboys stars, we hear that it was different forty years ago. Players could get up to much more. That is all that has changed in rugby league, Doctor. The hits are no harder, the players no naughtier – if we wish to protect our children, don’t protect them from the incredible feeling that comes from playing rugby league side by side with your best mates. A lost tooth here, a twisted ankle there, is more than worth that feeling. If we wish to protect our children, ban them from the TV, the internet, don’t let them read the newspaper.

I don’t hear any specialist calling for THAT, yet it is the only thing that has changed.
*****
The word count says 742
 

AlwaysGreen

Immortal
Messages
47,822
AlwaysGreen - Shaved head dripping with deep heat saunters on to the field.

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New season, new home

Alice Springs is my home for at least a year. League has a place in Alice although Aussie Rules is the dominant code as the Territory has traditional ties to South Australia. I say Aussie Rules because the local indigenous people love that style of footy but aren’t obsessed with the AFL.

Rugby League and the NRL also has a place in their heart because of its toughness and sense of camaraderie, a trait deeply important to the local people. Players are supported rather than teams and the likes of Bowen, Thurston and Campbell are appreciated as much as indigenous AFL players like Rioli, Goodes or Franklin.

When the Broncos and Cowboys came to town for a trial in February, the local ground was packed with people from far flung communities venturing into town to see their heroes in action. Alice can be a wild town with alcohol abuse and associated violence a major problem. I went to the ground with apprehension thinking that trouble might be close by but was pleasantly surprised and proud to see fans of all cultures and backgrounds enjoying the footy together. Even a few showers could not halt a great atmosphere.

A year in Alice Springs is a year away from my father. Over the years the old man and I have spent a lot of Friday nights in front of the box watching league. As a teenager, a young bloke and then a mature adult (cough cough), I’d venture to his place to watch the big game on Friday. Although I’m a Raiders fan and Dad a bonefide Dragons man it didn’t matter who played. We’d sit and watch the game, Dad silently and myself with the occasional inaccurate comment on the performance of each team. At half time we’d give our assessments of the state of play, crack open a couple of beers and jeer at the ref for a while. Then the second half in silence again before full time where we have a stab who will win man of the match, our predictions usually being way off.

Dad is an old school Dragons fan, he sat on the hill at Kogarah when Raper, Gasnier and Langlands were kings. Poppa Clay was his champion, but his favourite memory was watching giant Fijian Apisai Toga warming up pre game – "he would push against the upright and the whole thing would shift a foot." Dad only fell out of love with the game once – not in the super league era – but in the seventies and early eighties when the game became a cheapshot festival. He was from the era where you settled things with fists or a shout of beers but he reckons that some of the stuff from the fibros-silvertail era was gutless and unbecoming to the game. A game he still sees as great with bigger, better and more skilful athletes. I joke with him that he is one dinosaur who has kept up with evolution.

Back to Alice. I’m working with a bunch of ex-pats from Brisbane who swear by the Broncos and all things Lockyer. They reckon that this season will see the return of the Broncos to the top of the tree. How a horse can climb a tree I don’t know but arguing with a Queenslander about league or any other topic is pointless. However accurate and compelling your argument is it always gets met by the same response; "five series in a row and we’ll make it six this year, youse cockroaches don’t get what origin is about." Then they’ll tell you about how nowhere has more perfect weather than ‘the sunshine state’ before again reminding you about ‘five in a row cockroach’. Conversation, it seems, is pretty limited if you were born anywhere north of the Tweed River. If the Broncos do well and the blues lose again it’s going to be a long season.

Thankfully the NRL gets decent coverage in Alice Springs. I had the misfortune of living in Victoria for two years (not all misfortune, the folk there are very, very decent, they just have woeful taste in football codes). No league in Mildura unless you’d stayed up to the wee hours or had RupertVision. In Alice league gets a decent run and satisfies the appetite of a footy nut like myself.

It’s just a shame that I won’t be able to perform the Friday night ritual with the old man for a while.

*746 words*
 

Drew-Sta

Moderator
Staff member
Messages
24,567
Drew-Sta for the Baggers! Rawr!

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The porky pie eater

The death of the fatty-boom-bah-lah-lah rugby league player is a travesty to the modern game. Speed, speed, speed is all people are interested in. Good gracious, is John Elias dealing it to the NRL or are we trying to get sponsorship from API Nasal Spray? I thought we’d have learnt after the second movie that speed isn’t the be all and end all.

And yet, game after game the fatty is being pushed out. Why?!

Genetically, the fat player is always the most entertaining to watch. Bouncing boobies aside, they’re always the ones with a sense of humour. Check out Mark Riddell. The man is a character, a true footballer. And, rightfully so, his nickname ‘Pig’ due to his pork-like body figure.

Prior to his selling out and transfer to Parramatta, Pig was a big crowd pleaser. In fact, I attribute his poor performance in the blue and gold due to Brian Smith’s tactic of getting his players fit. Who the hell does that? No wonder Brian was never ‘relaxed’ at the club out west – He was always fighting his players away from the dinner table!

Pig’s famous post-try celebration – where he jumped the fence and proved wrong the old adage pigs will fly before proceeding to clap his effort for running 40 metres and jumping a hurdle without having a heart attack – is exactly the reason why we need more fat players in the NRL. Name the last skinny player to come up with such a remarkably self indulgent yet people-pleasing exhibition?

Sure, it’s easy to laugh at Johnathan Thurston’s big ears – and let’s face it, the things are satellite dishes, I’m surprised NASA doesn’t sponsor him – but after the thousandth time it gets a bit old. And there are only so many times one can watch Greg Inglis run over Jamie Soward before you get desensitised to the wonderful violence in that short clip.

But Pig? You could laugh at his lava-lamp like gut as it hypnotically jiggles under his tight navy blue for a solid 80 minutes without the need to even make anything else up. And that’s without pointing out the four pies he inhales at half time.

I still think the fat forward has its place in the game. Just like Jack Gibson signing Arthur ‘Pork Roast’ Beetson to Easts in the 70s, Wayne Bennett has signed Adam ‘Mrs Macs’ Cuthbertson to the Saints in a bid to go two in a row. Indeed, it seems almost prophetic now that the master coach has a fatty in the side that the red and white will go two in a row.

How am I so sure? Take a look at Saints success with Neville ‘Lardman’ Costigan heading up the forwards. The man simply couldn’t be stopped. I’m almost positive that Peter Doust paid his wage in deep fried Mars Bars. It could be argued that the absence of such a perpetually moving energy source from the Saints team last Monday was the reason the Sharks finally threw their leg over their older brother.

I have no idea why Cuthbertson was absent from the team but my suspicion is he lost too much weight from training during the week and to play a game on the Monday night would put further risk on his waistline – A smart decision by the super coach and his waiters.

So am I mad or simply a skinny boy jealous of these beefcake men of league. Well, history has shown that the great teams of the past had their fair share of fat men. Canterbury had Darryl Brohman in the 80s, Canberra had Paul Osborne, Manly stole Niel Tierney from St George and paid the ultimate slap in the face with a victory in 1996 and Melbourne broke into the ranks of winners with a cart wheeling Glenn Lazarus.

The time has come. Fat men need to stand up and belch out their desire to be a part of our wonderful game. If we’re to appeal to the common man, the blue collar man, the truck driving, pie eating, beer swilling, whale lovin’ people of Australia, we need fat people in our game.

Somebody pass me a pie.

About 700 words
 

Red Bear

Referee
Messages
20,882
Red Bear charges on after the unexpected promotion from the bench

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--
Meanwhile, in Hollywood…

To: mlitoris@cbs.com
Re: sitcom replacement

Michael Litoris, Chief Executive Officer, CBS America

Dear Michael,
I’m writing in regard to the need for new programming due to the recent suspension of popular program ‘Two and a Half Men.’ My production team has come up with the latest sure fire winner to amuse the American market. In the tradition of ‘Two and a Half Men’ this show contains a raft of easy set ups, predictable skirmishes and the promise of the same old story over and over again. Better yet, the audience will laugh along merrily whilst the joke is on them the whole time. I give you ‘Two and a Half States.’ A sitcom based on the on and off-field shenanigans of your average Australian rugby league season. Laugh as Todd Carney gets caught drink-driving. Chortle as News Limited assures us they’ll be leaving the game in two months, every two months. Fearless leader David Gallop doesn’t even need to open his mouth to create amusement.

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Already a cast of stars is being lined up for this

Larry David is David Gallop. The long suffering king of awkwardness, played by the guy from Curb Your Enthusiasm. See his complete inability to handle crisis after crisis, as something just goes wrong at every turn. See him continue his rapport with…

Jeff Garlin is Phil ‘Gus’ Gould. Gould of course is the outspoken and opinionated ‘expert’ of rugby league. Garlin, adept at playing a total wanker already, has the added advantage of also suffering from acute ‘Bee sting head’ syndrome.

gusgarlin.jpg


Clint Eastwood is Wayne Bennett. A wise elder statesman, short on words but always worth listening to. Will bring success wherever he goes.

David Letterman is Ross Livermore. A strange choice, you might think. Giving the character of an outdated stick-in-the-mud to the master of the outdated format, however, seemed strangely appropriate.

Robert Downey Jr. is Todd Carney, reformed bad boy. Like Downey Jr. vintage performances are turned in by this player, but unlike Downey Jr. no one is certain he’s clean.

Script-writing is a breeze. Simply a case of reworking the sports pages (and sometimes the front pages) week by week. An even simpler task than writing for ‘Two and a Half Men!’ No one is capable of making up story lines quite like The Daily Telegraph. Basing episodes on this newspaper will hopefully lead to similar success to Seinfeld, who were able to get nine seasons out of a ‘show about nothing.’

Already the pilot episode has been written
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Episode 1 – Independent what?
Synopsis – It’s a tough week for David Gallop (David). Fresh out of yet another meeting on the future of the game where he’s had to endure Ross Livermore’s (Letterman) top ten reasons Queensland will not join the independent commission, he gets a phone call to answer. It seems that his star player Todd (Downey Jr.) has had one too many and is in trouble again. Meanwhile, Phil Gould (Garlin) has given his opinion on, well, everything this week, whilst Wayne (Eastwood) responded to reporters’ queries as to whether his side was ready for the new season with his answer. “Yes.”
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
The target market is also potentially enormous. The obvious group that will watch is of course rugby league fans across the globe. Yet this is a program in which you can actually have your cake and eat it to. We’ve already seen sensationalist reporting prove that people love a ‘bad’ rugby league story. Well this show promises to capture the audience that loves nothing more than the joke at rugby league’s expense.

So as you can see we think we’re onto a winner here. Just say the word and we are ready to go into development.
Regards
Les
(L. Bian, program development).

To: lbian@cbs.com
Re: sitcom replacement

Dear Les,
This is certainly an interesting idea you and your team have come up with. Are you sure you can afford the mooted stellar cast? We don’t want to be forced, say, to let Eastwood go to England mid-series due to salary constraints.
Otherwise, get the pilot up and running. It certainly is an exciting prospect to fill the newfound gap in our programming. The money we can make off selling the TV rights overseas could potentially be enormous!
Keep up the good work
Michael Litoris
Chief Executive Officer, CBS America
--

728 words
 
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Azkatro

First Grade
Messages
6,905
panthers.gif

Azkatro posting for the Panthers.

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When all sorts unite

Jamie Robinson was a Penrith Panthers supporter. It was a Friday night and he was off to watch his team take on the Canberra Raiders. He found his seat and geared up to watch his team play, although he was still processing the day he had at work. His boss had given him a mountain of work to get through on the weekend, and it felt like the icing on the cake after a long period of mistreatment, and enough was enough. He’d been there a few years now and worked his arse off. But his pay hadn’t gone up since he started and he seemed to be doing more hours than ever. Maybe it was about time to start looking around for new opportunities, but it was a draining effort to go through that process.

Suddenly, his thought process was snapped by the home side running out onto the pitch. Jamie and his fellow Penrith supporters rose as one to cheer the arrival of their team. Together they cheered, clapped and yelled. Jamie heard a lady nearby yell out “come on you Panthers!”

It was Leslie Hamilton, a local who had recently lost her husband. She was finding it impossible to maintain with mortgage repayments on her part-time salary. All she wanted to do was retire as she was nearing 60, but she was only a couple of years off owning the home she had been paying off with her husband for the last 30 years. But the stress was taking its toll on her health and she was facing the prospect of having to sell, despite being so close to owning her home. A good friend of hers from work had bought her ticket to the game to help take her mind off things for a while. Seeing her team win was the only thing Leslie had left. Her cheer was a desperate plea filled with hope.

A sudden intercept by Michael Jennings broke her train of thought, and she leapt off her seat in unison with the rest of the home supporters. One bloke near the front row was screaming. “Go Mick, all the way mate, all the way son!”

It was Cory Taylor, an old school friend of Jennings’ whom he went to school with. Cory was a pretty handy sportsperson too, but grew up in a broken home. Seeing his mate run past took his mind back to his childhood days. His dad was a truckie and hardly ever at home. When he was, he chastised Cory for poor school results and not fulfilling his sporting potential. His dad would get drunk and the abuse would get worse. In his teenage years, Cory fell in with the wrong crowd and turned to drugs. All he wanted was for his dad to accept him, regardless of what happened. He almost didn’t want to succeed because it would have proved his idiot of a father right, wherever he is now. He was probably driving trucks in the mines for extra money, like he always said he wanted to.

Suddenly the crowd started yelling - a tussle had broken out between two players. Cory was surprised by the posh looking bloke nearby who said “get in there chaps, a jab to the mouth should sort that lad out!”

William Joyce, a rich investment banker, was relishing his decision to connect with the common folk by attending a rugby league match. The seat was uncomfortable, the fans drunken and unruly, and the atmosphere wild. While those around him screamed for blood, he took out his phone and checked the stocks again. Santos had firmed another two cents. He smiled a wry grin as he pondered what that would do for his personal wealth. As he put his phone back into his pocket, he had a glance at the fans sitting around him, before leaning over to his wife. “Bloody marvellous game this,” he remarked. “It really does attract all sorts.”

Cory, shaking his head at William’s aloofness, smiled a wry grin. “Fair dinkum, this game attracts all sorts.”

Leslie, after watching Cory ride Jennings in for his intercept try, couldn’t help but laugh. “Good on him. This game attracts all bloody sorts!” she told her friend.

Jamie nodded his head towards Leslie as she cheered on the Panthers. “That old girl’s got a voice on her,” he said to himself. “Rugby league really does attract all sorts.

“No wonder I keep coming back.”

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

747 words. Liftoff!
 
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Willow

Assistant Moderator
Messages
108,126
Willow | Bluebags
jersey_bluebags_1a.gif


The life and times of Johnny Lang


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I like John Lang.

A champion hooker in his day, Lang has seen everything the game has to offer. He's won premierships, represented his home state, his away state, his country and won a bag of awards. He also preceded a family line, coaching son Martin to first grade and representative honours.

On the surface, it looks like John Lang has done it all.

But there are some things that rugby league's elder statesman has been unable to achieve.

Born 7 November 1950, John Lang was raised in Queensland. Don't hold that against him.

In 1969, young Johnny debuted in first grade with Brisbane's Eastern Suburbs Tigers, playing 11 seasons and winning premierships (1972, 1977, 1978). He moved to Sydney in 1980 and linked up with Eastern Suburbs Roosters, playing the grand final that year.

At state level, Lang played for both Queensland and New South Wales. This wasn't unusual pre-1980, but Lang had the rare distinction of playing for both NSW and Queensland in the same series. In 1980, the inaugural year of State of Origin, only one of three games was played under Origin rules. Playing for the Roosters, Lang was considered 'Sydney-based' so he played with NSW in the first clash, starring in NSW's victory. Origin rules were then introduced and Lang returned to Queensland, defeating NSW. In all, Lang played 20 state matches, 19 for Queensland.

At international level, Lang played for Australia between 1973-1980. He joined the 1973 Australian Kangaroo tour to France and was selected again in 1974 against Great Britain. In 1975 he played in the World Cup Australian team, winning the tournament that year. He was selected for a final time for the Kangaroos against New Zealand in 1980.

Lang retired in 1980. Although in the twilight of his playing career and only playing one season in Sydney, he was selected for NSW, Queensland and Australia - finishing at the top of his game.

After a stellar final season as a player, Lang turned his mind to coaching. He returned to Brisbane, coaching his old club Easts Tigers and guiding them to two premierships (1983 and 1991).

By now the reader may be wondering if Lang's run of success would ever end. But as alluded to earlier, there are some challenges that even great men cannot overcome...

In 1994, Lang took up the poison chalice of the Cronulla-Sutherland Sharks. He was well aware that this was hardest nut to crack when it came to premiership success. After eight inconsistent seasons, Lang finally threw in the towel, delivering a few parting shots to his former employers:

"The Sharks have no influence and no money".

"They have spent half their history staving off bankruptcy."

"Some seasons have been a success just to exist."

*Ouch*

In 2002, Lang started coaching the Penrith Panthers. In just two seasons, Penrith went from competition easybeats to minor premiers and premiership champions.

John Lang's place in rugby league history was cemented, his contributions are there for all to see.

Lang stayed with the Panthers until 2006. The writing must have been on the wall, one year after his departure Penrith were delivered the wooden spoon.

In 2008, South Sydney Rabbitohs hired Lang as a football consultant. Old Johnny, now done with coaching, had every reason to relax away from the limelight in semi-retirement. But alas, a loose cannon came in the shape of coach Jason Taylor. After a drunken brawl, Taylor was sacked. The SOS went out to Lang. In 2010, he found himself once again coaching a side struggling to find premiership success.

2011 is Lang's final season as a coach. He announced his retirement months earlier, not long after Souths capitulated to the Dragons in their do-or-die round 26 clash.

It's early days in 2011 but onfield success is again proving difficult for Souths.

With the season just 40 minutes old, Lang looked like a candidate for spontaneous combustion as he exploded in front of the cameras while berating his players. Lang's half-time outburst had all the hallmarks of a bloke who has had enough. Unlike his playing days, he isn't leaving at the top of his game. Sure, we might be able to blame that on Souths - after all, they were a rabble on the field and off the field it turned into a hollywood soapie ages ago. But it's sad that there are grumblings with some wags calling for Lang's sacking.

My advice to Johnny, jump before you're pushed.

| 750 words |
| Ref: Quotes SMH (2002), Stats Encyclopedia RL Players |
 
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Goleel

Juniors
Messages
864
Gol tugs at the midsection of his new, unfamiliar Panthers jersey, cursing the misunderstanding that saw one X removed from his XXXXL.

---

Nobodies Fantasy

"What?"

I doubt the elderly woman standing with me at the bus stop appreciated my telephone etiquette, but the man on the other end of the line knew this wasn't the best time. He did have an enticing offer for me, and was used to my gruff, efficient methods of communication after disappointing home losses.

"Want to drown our sorrows?"

Three words later we had an agreement, a time and a place. Sure, he had ruined the result of the late game that I had recording, but stuff it, after another Parramatta capitulation I didn't want to see a football dropped in anger again tonight. I'd much prefer to get drunk and over analyse one game in a long season that had just started, writing it off in an overly dramatic fashion before it had barely began. Unfortunately, those weren't the sorrows my friend wanted to drown.

"Man, I made Fensom my captain and they said he only scored 55 points. That's crap, the NRL website said he made 50 tackles, and that's gonna go up, if he doesn't get at least 75 points I'm gonna crack it."

I'm into minute twelve of a fantasy NRL inspired rant to which my friend has come more prepared than a barrister to the high court. Statistics, precedents, comparisons, he's got it all in his defence of Shaun Fensom and his seemingly unfair score. He is legitimately more upset about this than his beloved Raiders home loss, which he has referenced only to support his Fensom argument. How can a man who regularly makes inappropriate remarks about his feelings for Brett Mullins, such is his love for Canberra, care more about a stupid fantasy football team than his own NRL side?

It makes no logical sense. There isn't much money on the line and the battle for pride extends only to his family and a few friends, who have a whole litany of embarrassing stories about him to quickly undermine any pride he may take in beating us at fantasy football. Yet it consumes him, and for nineteen minutes and counting he has ranted, raved and bored me with dream team talk.

When I finally get a word in, I quote American sports writer Bill Simmons, perhaps not verbatim, but close enough. "Mate, nobody else gives a s**t about your fantasy football team". Never have truer words been spoken. I'm a traditional man, and I will observe the long standing reciprocal relationship football fans share, I'll show you insincere compassion while you complain about your football team, as long as you do the same for me. While I may only care about how well Matt Orford is or isn't playing for one week, the week he plays Parramatta, at least he is playing for a real team in a competition that matters. The boundaries of this compassion are stretched when you start complaining that the NRL website registered him with a try assist, but the Daily Telegraph didn't, and it cost you 10 fantasy points.

The disease is spreading, too. Where Fox Sports once popped up slightly relevant statistics when a player scored, they now let us know he has 27 fantasy points on the day. The Daily Telegraph runs more fantasy football blogs than any other, although this may be a mercy the way Phil Rothfield has been going with his predictions. Soon I'll be picking up the Big League to find that the metres gained column in the stats page has been replaced with fantasy points scored, although they may need to stretch it out to cover the half dozen different variations of fantasy football now on offer from every major media outlet.

The day will come where fantasy football is so all consuming I will have to watch all games in isolation, for fear of supporters cheering every Fensom tackle or Orford try assist louder than when their team scores, unless it was Fensom or Orford, of course. Where the match of the round will be decided not on quality of play, but because Corey Parker and Paul Gallen are playing and 87.4% of all fantasy teams contain one or both of them. Perhaps one day football will not be scored in tries and goals, but fantasy points, as teams kick away and let their back rowers tackle their hearts out as the scoreboard ticks over.

Then I might just have to care about your fantasy team, but until that day, please, shut up.

---

748 in the counter
 

madunit

Super Moderator
Staff member
Messages
62,358
madunit for the Panthers

Contradictary Moral Dilemma

Earlier this week the world was gripped with jolly green festivities as St. Patricks day was celebrated.

And it made me realise that I had been embracing the way of the Irish more intently than I ever realised before.

Since my days as a youngster, I distinctly recall an utter dislike for AFL, big cities, fancy food and life’s little extravagances.

During the mid-1990’s I was devout in my support of the ARL against the Superleague.

Oh how time has changed.

I left the country and moved to the city in 2004.

I now reside in AFL heartland, Melbourne (I still despise AFL though).

I have just had my first home built and I moved in last weekend, a house filled with all the mod-cons, brand new appliances and state of the art … everything really.

Then along came St. Patrick’s Day.

‘Twas early in the morn, as I sat in my shiny new home, that I picked up my mobile phone, with full intention of making the one call that could transport me out of my AFL dominated mire. The excitement started at my heart and raced around my body as I keyed the numbers into the phone.

The phone began ringing, each tone seemingly taking an age;

‘Ring, Ring. Ring, Ring’

I felt like a little child looking at a clock on December 24, waiting for Christmas.

Then the automated message greeted me. There was no turning back now. Sure there was, but my mind was made up, besides, it’d be rude to walk away from a conversation now. I was about to go full circle and make a complete liar and contradiction of myself.

After several prompts and speaking to a machine which had the uncanny ability to understand what my voice relayed from my brain, in what is sometimes an unnerving situation because it sounds like a conversation with the future, I was put on hold.

I was back watching the clock at Christmas, while listening to some looped jazz fusion style music whose volume wavered from completely silent to speaker-busting, static-sounding loud on a very strict, unwavering cycle, making it impossible to catch the tune.

Then, the music stopped. My heart palpitated.

“Hello, how can I help you?”

Sure, there are a million answers you could give to this question, but she knows that I’ve been caught in the web.

I wouldn’t have waited through the dial tones to come this far without a question.

I wouldn’t have spoken to the human robot in a somewhat uneasy manner without a genuine request.

I wouldn’t have studied the inadequate volume control of the hold music without a feasible query.

But now the pressure was on. I knew this moment would come, it was inevitable. I felt prepared for the moment, but just like a fullback steadying himself to field a bomb in the dying seconds of the grand final, with the opposition bearing down on top of him, hoping to snatch a famous victory, nothing can ever ready you for the actual time when the moment is upon you.

The feeling of betrayal was rushing over me, subconsciously. Everything I stood for was about to be blown away.

You got me in the end. I had no way out. He knew it too.

He was sitting in his spacious office, quietly laughing inside his somewhat evil mind.

“I’d like to connect to FOXTEL please”

I can’t believe I said that.

I even said please.

I’ve turned my back on my morals, once again. Rupert got me.

The conversation continues. I feel dirty, almost as though I’m indulging in the worst sin possible.

I’m excited more than anything.

I should not be enjoying this! I should be not excited!

But I am.

I am informed that it will be installed on Wednesday. An exchange of pleasantries ends the transaction and I’m left, lying in the bed I just made, physically and metaphorically.

Wednesday arrives. The installation man doesn’t. It’s been so long since I had rugby league on my television that I am starting to behave like a drug addict. I’m a rugby League addict and FOXTEL is my drug and my cure.

I’m told I now have to wait another week due to some error on their system.

Another week!

I can’t take it anymore!

Stop toying with me, Rupert!

You’ve taken my morals; you’ve got me in your web. Stop teasing me!

I NEED MY RUGBY LEAGUE NOW!!!

745 words including title
 

The 18th Man

Juniors
Messages
1,602
The 18th Man for the Bluebags


“I can’t walk the next day, but I can’t get enough of it”

Friday afternoon. The boys and I have a half day before heading to our local for a few beers. The session is always eventful, always loud and always attended in our best Hard Yakka fluoro shirt.

The topic of rugby league hasn’t changed going on 12-years now – Friday lunch at the pub is where we solve the NRL’s problems. We've been selectors, discussed rule changes and corrected all of the great coaches from today and yesteryear. That changed this past Friday. We took a day off solving the NRL’s problems and caught up with Jimmy Roach.

Jimmy is a 51-year-old plumber, father to four sons and husband to Pamela - the judge, jury and executioner of the Roach family.

“I’m the boss though” Jimmy protests, “She is just the decision maker!”

This is the one-liner Jimmy has been throwing around since he was our coach in the U/9s. It’s a Jimmy staple; you can rely on that one liner being brought to the table with a cold beer, 1995 Nokia and a pack of Winfield Reds.

Jimmy's list of achievements would not fill the allotted 750 words I have to share with you all today, so I will give you the most impressive statistic of them all. At 51-years-old, standing six foot tall and weighing the same weight today as he did when first entered grade, Jimmy is still playing rugby league. It’s open grade play for a steak sandwich and beer type of league. Jimmy is still playing the game he loves. It surpasses his Country Player of the Year award, it dwarfs his 13 premierships as and it pips his “one hundred and fifty odd tries". Jimmy is a local legend still playing the game he loves, since he was five.

Five hours had passed since we crossed paths with our old Coach. We had talked about all the topics that one shouldn’t – politics, religion, which of us had the hottest mum back in the day – inevitably we got back to rugby league. The Eastern Suburbs Roosters dominated conversation (“You can tell Big Nick I don’t give a toss what he has named my club – I support the Eastern Suburbs Roosters!”)

“What I wouldn’t give to be a guy like Todd Carney fellas – you know what I mean? I mean, this kid has the world at his feet. The world! He gets paid to play the game he loves, won’t ever do a honest day’s work and if the little bastard is smart with his money, he will be kicking back on the beach after a good days finish before the age of forty if he wants too!”

Our NSW Blues got some deserved attention.

“Put Pearce at halfback, Carney at five-eight, Farrah at dummy half and that punk rock looking fullback from Canberra at fullback – build around them and NSW will start their own dynasty from 2011 to 2016. Problem solved. Forget paying overs for Sticky, put the team to the average punter and we will pick you a team that will beat the Canetoads.”

Last but not least, we asked addressed the white elephant in the room. Why and HOW are you stilling playing competitive rugby league at 51 years or age?

“Why? Well boys, like I said to you as young men as you progressed through the grades – I don’t want to ever want to be that guy at the bar telling stories about what I could have done whilst telling people how good I was once upon a time or good I could have been. I don’t want to be that guy just yet, I still don’t know how good a player I might be,” he said with a laugh whilst finishing off his roadie.

And how?

“I can’t answer that one lads. You lot are still rookies and should be pulling the boots tomorrow as opposed to coming to watch you bunch of skirts. The truth is, I can’t walk the next day but I just love the game. That’s why I turn up to get bashed on Saturday afternoon. That and Pam doesn’t want me in the way on Saturday morning when she is cleaning!”

With that the great man shook our hands and planned to catch up with us next week. I hope he keeps that promise as a chat with our very own legend of league reminded us all as to why we love this great game.

750 words
 

bartman

Immortal
Messages
41,022
Nothing like a good 5v5 match to kick off the regular season - well done to both teams :thumn.

All things being equal, I'm aiming to have the scores, comments and results up by Friday. Best of luck to one and all!
 

Willow

Assistant Moderator
Messages
108,126
Just picking myself up off the floor after what was a sensational locker room end game. 5v5 is always great to see, and I'm pretty sure both the Bluebags and Panthers were pulling out all stops. Great effort one and all and good luck. :clap:
 

bartman

Immortal
Messages
41,022
Wow, can I just say how much I enjoyed all of these reads, and how hard it was to fault any of these articles? Cobwebs - what cobwebs!

A high standard match to start the season - maybe it's just the prozac, but I've marked pretty high accordingly... and you're all gonna hate me for the result.


Bluebags

New season, new home - AlwaysGreen
An informative piece explaining the local popularity of the codes, while exploring some interstate differences and evoking the new distance from a familiar family ritual. I’d missed that the Broncos and Cowboys had played a trial in Alice - that should have packed out the ground below Anzac Hill.
90

The porky pie eater - Drew-sta
A tongue in cheek ode to the qualities of league larger participants, and their contribution to the game. Jumps out of the box with wit and keeps up the pace through to the conclusion.
92

Meanwhile, in Hollywood… - Red Bear
Clever topical idea for a piece, punchily written with good casting choices. I can easily see the potential for actors in a rugby-league sit-com to hold the show for ransom for more salary, and I had the distinct feeling that station exec Michael might have changed his name from say, Clive?
91

The life and times of Johnny Lang - Willow
An accessible and informative presentation of John Lang’s history, achievements and challenges. He’s definitely seen a lot, and being forced out early for being unable to get the best out of Souths would be a bad way to end. (Mind you, I suspect they’re bound to hit their straps and get a win tonight!)
90

“I can’t walk the next day, but I can’t get enough of it” - The 18th Man
A well-captured and nicely-structured portrait of a character whose love for league endures - in the most practical sense.
90


Panthers

Temptation - Leaguenut
At first I thought the piece was going to be about a fan being tempted by another club, and then I thought it might be about being tempted by another code. It was only the last line that revealed it was being written from the point of view of a club personified. Clever concept and well written.
92

It’s not about winning (though it helps) - Didgi
A narrative tale about the feeling of playing rugby league as a kid, mixed with observations about the state of the game and its media reputation. A good balance between building a scene, and then putting forward your opinions.
88

When all sorts unite - Azkatro
A great display of characterisation, exploring the underlying motivations of a very diverse bunch of people, with rugby league as their unifying factor. Well-written, and brought the different threads together very well at the end.
93

Nobodies Fantasy - Goleel
A solid opinionated rebuttal of the growing importance to fans and the media of fantasy football. How long will it take our broadcast partners to combine their love for stating gambling odds during a match with the new love for fantasy points – coming soon to a TAB near you?
90

Madunit – Contradictary Moral Dilemma
A suspenseful piece capturing the lengths people force themselves to go for their fix of rugby league, mixed with the guilt of being caught by the long-evaded corporation. “Rupert got me” and “I feel dirty” on consecutive lines nicely sums up the protagonist’s feelings as he is still left hanging.
90


Result: Bluebags 453 drew with Panthers 453


POTM: Azkatro (Panthers) :clap:
 

The 18th Man

Juniors
Messages
1,602
Thanks Bartman, congrats to all involved in this game. I enjoyed every article as well. It was always a coin flip, a draw seems fitting. Congrats to Azakatro for POTM.
 
Last edited:

Willow

Assistant Moderator
Messages
108,126
Thanks ref and top reads from everyone. Congrats Azkatro on the POTM. :thumn
 
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