2011 ROUND 3: Rabbitohs -V- Bluebags

[Jesbass]

South Sydney Rabbitohs -V- Newtown Bluebags​

-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 (+ 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://www.forumsevens.com.au/rules.php
Official Word Counter: http://forumsevens.com.au/wordcount.php

Kick Off: Sunday 10th April 2011 (2100AEST)
Full Time: Wednesday 20th April 2011 (2100AEST)
Referee: Jesbass
Venue: Redfern Oval

 

[Willow]

The baggers bus has arrived in Redfern ahead of schedule! First in, and ready to party.

Team Bags - Round 3, 2011

Willow (c)
RHCP
AlwaysGreen
Red Bear
gorilla

Interchange:
Rexxy
Ridders

Good luck one and all. :thumn

 

[gorilla]

*A 'patronising', 'arrogant' and ... utterly dismissive gorilla squanders onto the field*

**************************
Two-faced Wayne

When I first went overseas in the 1970s, it was possible to take your own picture in the backyard and use that as a passport photo. My friendly photographer took a spare photo from that collection, and pre-computer software, cut and spliced it back together a number of ways and times during photo development stage (this time in a bathroom not the backyard). The result was two photos, each one showing a mirror image of my face – two left hand sides pasted together and two right hand sides pasted together. I then became aware of facial symmetry – it was after the 6 mogadon tablets and half bottle of tequila that we began to discuss what this could mean.

The brain has two hemispheres and either side of the brain influences the opposite side of the body. The left hand side of the brain, influencing the right hand side of the body, also is responsible for more logical and analytical thinking, whilst the right hand side of the brain, influencing the left side of the body, I'm informed, is the centre for more artistic, creative and intuitive thought.

When combined with “old-wisdom” knowledge about face reading and interpretation, it’s a valuable tool waiting to be picked up by human resources and recruitment teams all over the world.

I won’t go into what my faces showed about me, but I was starkly reminded of this phenomena when I saw a recent photo of that old Clint Eastwood impersonator: Wayne Bennett.

Wayne has a definite split-face thing going on, with a distinct half and half image, just begging to be mirrored and interpreted. Of course, the simpleton’s guide to life (the PC and internet) makes this sort of picture pretty easy these days.

First Wayne’s analytic and logical thinking side – the right side of his face mirrored as a new face.

This face is really alive and keen, almost a pixie face. Thin and bright-eyed, it shows a certain foundation strength that is evident in his team and play structures. Wayne’s eyes – the main part of a face, show the typical wide set and thin lidded indications of a man with a detached and trend-setting approach, whilst the high forehead shows patience in his logical and analytical thinking.

The nose is awkward due to the mirror process for the picture but it is wide and prominent indicating he is a schemer and a planner, and also shows a logical and straightforward style that I think is evident in his team’s playing style.

The narrow chin and smaller, thin-lipped mouth show a secretive and reserved thinking approach but sincere. Lastly, the basic spread of features across the face shows intellect and a degree of acceptance that the physical world does not always drive the logical world and that rewards can be non-tangible.

I realize this is getting ‘on the edge’ but blame that Eastern European baby-sitter we had during my formative years; card and face reading, omens in the sky and all that stuff.

Wayne’s left hand side face, mirrored and put together, shows insight into his creative and intuitive thinking. The eyes are closer together and heavy-lidded showing he cares about other people’s life-details and appreciates intimacy – perhaps a clue to his people management skill.

The thinner and smaller nose shows a certain aloofness but also less interest in money than people.

Wayne’s chin and mouth shows he can be demanding and tough on people but is social and persuasive in private. The spread of features on Wayne’s creative and intuitive face suggests that he doesn’t rely on intellectualism for his people skills and that he is an earthy and fundamental man in his intuition, creativity and use of people skills.

Two faces but one man. A man who I think shows very logical and detached thinking when it comes to analysis and planning, and is able to be persuasive and demanding in private with his team members and personalities. He seems to have the attributes of a secretive thinker and planner, not showing his hand much, whist at the same time being a little roguish about his logic. Wayne cares about his players and wants to help them but also knows when to apply the cold hard logic of sport and team management.

I never thought that old passport photo would open up someone’s life like this – an old grainy photo of a young man looking ahead, leading to a face-reading of an old coaching master.

**************
748 or 749 words between the stars

 

[AlwaysGreen]

AlwaysGreen dons the blue.
************************************

Frankenplayer

I’ve gone mad. Here in my lonely castle far away from all that makes society tick I dwell. I’m obsessed, possessed by an urge to turn Canberra’s dog of a season around. I shall create a footballer that will surpass all, a footballer that will restore the mighty green machine back to glory. I shall create a true immortal. Hahahahahahaha.

My creation will have the left foot of Brad Fittler. Freddie came onto the scene with a sidestep bigger than Ben Hur, Jesus and the Beatles combined. One minute he’d be hurling straight at you and then, Bam, he’d lay on that step that looked like it made the whole world tilt. When he was younger Fittler would bandy this sidestep about with a grin as he made his elders look stupid, once his age advanced he used it more sporadically but still grinned when he made whippersnappers grasp at air.

The right foot will be taken from Andrew Johns. Some say the buttocks of the Newcastle legend were his biggest ass(et), Novacastrians would say that in Johns the complete footballer is already made but the right foot is all I need. Bananas, helicopters, bombs, grubbers – not something from the Vietnam war but Joey’s swag of kicking artillery which he’d methodically hoist at the opposition. Bombs came down with ice and stardust, grubbers stopped on a sixpence and his patented banana kick would bamboozle all. And for good measure that trusty right foot could convert from anywhere.

Mal Meninga’s thighs will form the pistons of my mighty footballer. Chicken George was no bantam, his thighs were bigger than most men and when he got a full head of steam you’d feel sorry for the poor rube that had to bring him down. Big Mal charged over would-be tacklers like a Victa over clover. Mal on the rampage was an exhilarating spectacle. As impressive as Mal’s thighs are they were not as impressive as his ability to perspire, my ultimate footballer will also have Meninga’s sweat glands, just to make him more difficult to bring down.

My man will have speed, Martin Offiah speed. Chariots looked a pretty innocuous character hanging around the end of various backlines but when the ball reached him he would hit the jets and the next time you’d see him was putting the ball down over the tryline. Chariots made Speedy Gonzales look like Slowpoke Rodriguez and opposition wingers who gave him an inch like Bozo the Clown.

The intestinal fortitude of my footballer will come from Geoff Toovey. Toovey had a face you could only hate and a bratty attitude to match his youthful looks. Smaller than a cornerpost, the little blonde Sea Eagle never shirked from taking down the big men. Plenty of times they rode roughshed over him but the little accountant would regather his figures and face the big numbers again.

Everyone needs a heart and my ultimate player will have Paul Bowman’s ticker. Some might say you need a big heart to play with the lowly Cowboys for your entire career but for a long time Bowman was the Cowboys. Bear kept coming back from injuries that would have wrecked other men, but his team needed him. He tackled blokes with a busted leg to help his mates. Not the flashiest car in the garage, but what an engine.

Benji Marshall provides the hands. If Benji wasn’t a footballer he’d make a good living as a card shark or a pickpocket. Producing pinpoint perfect passes from any place on the pitch is Benji’s particular specialty. But Benji doesn’t just merely pass the pill, he flicks, feigns and floats it with the glee of a four-year-old spreading flour through a kitchen.

Peter Sterling's mug is not pretty but the grey matter behind it will be my footballer’s brain. In a game of high speed collisions, cerebral Sterlo was a forensic investigator who seemed to be able to tell what was going to occur in a match before it happened. Sterlo controlled matches with the virtuosity of a conductor, injecting the talent around him precisely when they were needed. Sterling was so smart that he was able to avoid coaching, although a cure for baldness and running through papier-mâché banners has thus far been beyond his thinking abilities.

Kerry Hemsley’s hair and glare completes the ultimate footballer. Now to unleash him and bring glory back to the mighty Raiders, hahahahahhaha.

740 words

 

[RHCP]

RHCP, Four Nations winner, trots onto the field for his debut with his microphone ready to rhyme as the halftime entertainment.

697 words between the hyphens. (Couldn't find any fancy fonts )

-

The Ballad Of The Ox

Let me tell you a tale of a fall from grace,
From great esteem to an utter disgrace.
Matt Orford the Ox,
Joined the Raiders for title number four.
They found out with Orford at 7, they won’t win any games at all.

2011 on the horizon, nothing seemed too new
Until it finally happened, no it can’t be true!
Campese in a hospital bed,
Doctors ruled him out for eight .
The talismanic playmaker who only Raiders rate.

At Parliament house the tears began to fall,
‘Josh Dugan alone can’t do it all’
Josh McCrone, Sam Williams?!
None of them could hold a candle to Terry,
But soon would come news to make the ACT merry.

He rode into town with his head held aloft
In less than 2 months it would be fiercely torn off.
Dally M Medallist coming to town,
Canberra’s season was no longer on the rocks
Because coming to Canberra was Matt Orford, the Ox!

With the heart of Tongue, the grunt of White,
Dugans rats tail, Ferguson’s spite,
Shillington and Croker,
Thompson, McCrone and Harrison too,
Plus Orford, they had a great side, Terry who?

So it became a typical Canberra season once more
This would be their year, expectation galore.
Josh Dugan would become an Immortal,
They would finish top three
And win, lose or draw, Skeepe would blame the referee.

Laurie Daley spontaneously ejaculated,
Raiders_Premiers uncontrollably masturbated,
Mal Meninga leapt with ecstasy.
The Canberra Raiders suddenly had a new gleam,
Step back, here comes the Green Machine.

Round 1 at home, the Cronulla Sharks.
‘Too easy’ they scoffed, it was a walk in the park,
40 to 12 was the final score.
‘Imagine how many we would’ve scored if Orford were here’
But that adulation soon evolved into fear.

Here come the Broncos, playing at home they cheered with glee,
Orford debuts, but doesn’t bring a victory.
With Ox at the helm, they were not looking sharp.
‘Give him some time, he’s recovering from injury’
Should’ve dropped him then - out of a tree!

Their first trip away, a historical hard time
But with Matt Orford at 7, they thought they’d be fine.
Little did they now, they would lose this one too.
They cried out be patient, he’s a premiership winner!
Soon the Ox would be in KFC, selling chicken dinners.

Round Four at home, versus the Gold Coast.
This is the game they needed to win the most
But they could not.
A game so spectacular in failure, in disgrace and utter sh*te
It needs three stanzas to cover it’s might.

Up by six points, forty seconds to go
The Raiders had it sewn up, but then came the woe.
Ox dropped the ball, Laffranchi got the try.
Ferguson follows suit right on his line,
Greg Bird slots the field goal in extra time.

Matt Orford, The Ox, had f**ked up yet again.
Tears poured and poured out of fully grown men,
Get well soon Terry, we need you now.
Losing the unlosable, they couldn’t believe it,
‘The Ox came to save us, he hasn’t helped us one bit!’

One more chance, a must win game
Against the Penrith Panthers, who had been woeful and lame.
Fancy a wager on the final score?
The Raiders lost again and the pitchforks were out,
‘Matt Orford must go’, flew from the fans mouths.

And so The Ox was scratched from the team sheet,
A mysterious injury knocking him off his feet
‘At least he’s gone and we can get on with winning’.
But up in North Queensland came another loss,
‘Raiders Top Four’ was shown to be just a big toss

That is where the tale stops now, but what of The Ox,
Will he ever again wear the lime green socks?
The men of the ACT tell me they have a plan.
Matt Orford to NSW Cup, they’ll fly up the ladder,
Who plays halfback doesn’t matter.

For the Raiders have a secret plan.
The Raiders have a Superman.
Campese you think? You’ve got it wrong.
He is one in a million, half man half amazing,
When Josh Dugan returns, Canberra are a sure thing.
​

-

 

[griffo346]

South Sydneys team for this round

Griffo346
Non Terminator
Bubbles
BRF82
Spanner in the works

Marshall_Magic
Bwuce

 

[Spanner in the works]

I've arrived:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hYOWIdPHXts

750 exactly according to the OWC.

****************************************************************************************************************************
I’m really looking forward to training today I thought, as I sat stuck in another Sydney traffic jam. The radio had given me some company, but boredom had sat in. It was a beautiful day outside, with the sun glistening on the grass after a light shower earlier in the morning. It was a rare clear day in the middle of winter and I could feel the sun warming me through the tinted glass of the car. I poked my head out of the window and a cool gentle breeze comforted me. I so desperately wanted to be outside.

Pity about this traffic jam I mumbled. I knew the boys would already be at training and I was looking forward to joining them. We had been struggling of late, with four straight losses putting a dampener on what had been a very promising season. I knew we could make a run for the finals, but it was going to be a big task with only a few games left remaining. Morale had taken a hit around the place and as captain much rested on me. The ever watchful eyes of the media and the fans were staring in my direction. The pressure was on.

“…an act of Machiavellian bastardry said Opposition Leader Tony Abbott”. “In other news, Prime Minister Gillard’s proposed….” I flicked the radio off. My mind was on other things. Finally! The traffic cleared like Moses parting the Red Sea, and I arrived at my destination. I found a park and stepped outside. It was still a beautiful day, but I took little notice of it as I entered the drab, two storey, battleship grey building. The walk to reception had allowed the butterflies in my stomach to settle in just nicely. “Hi, I had an appointment with Dr. Lancaster at 10:15?” I said nervously. “Oh yes, take a seat and she will be with you shortly” said the chirpy young receptionist rather ironically. I sighed and sat down.

Looking around, it was your typical doctor’s office, with old, ripped, dog-eared magazines sitting on a cheap desk, other patients looking nervous, and the receptionist sitting at her desk doing very little, apart from answering the occasional phone call. The incessant glow of fluorescent lights just made people look sicker than they really were, and highlighted particularly well the blemishes and damage done in a well-used room. It was rather fitting.

I heard my name and rose slowly, forcing a disingenuous smile towards the doctor. I had never really had a problem with doctors, but today was different. I had been sidelined for a month, after taking what seemed like a fairly gentle knock to my head. The numbness and tingling down my leg was a worrying sign for sure, but I assumed that it was only nerve damage and would be back soon. The tingling and numbness had come and gone for the first two weeks but had eased up, and today I would finally find out when I would be back into it. Much was at stake.

“Why do doctors always have a nice, clean, damage-free room?” I wondered, as I took a seat on the hard ergonomic chair. The doctor pulled up the scans on her screen and studied them for a moment. Is that what my neck looks like I pondered, while waiting for her to finish. Doctor Lancaster made a slight groan, and looked over at me rather grimly. “The news is not good” she said quietly and somewhat saddened. “How much longer?” I asked. “I’m afraid that football is out of the question” she said. That’s the season I thought quietly. sh*t. I wondered how the fans and the team would cope with this news. Morale was already rock-bottom. This would be a season to forget.

The silence was interrupted. “You have a narrowing in your spinal canal and it would be incredibly dangerous for you to ever play football again” she said matter-of-factly. “Excuse me?!” I demanded. I thought she had finished. “You will never play football again” she replied deadpan. I was dumbfounded. I had come here expecting to be back for the weekend. The doctor continued speaking but I heard nothing. How did I not know? What am I going to do now? What about the club? What about my family? What do I have? Solemnly, I left her office and sat in the car. So many questions to be answered but I had nothing. Yes.... I had nothing.

 

[griffo346]

Substitute

On Marshall magic
Off with a groin strain griffo346

 

[Marshall_magic]

Marshall Magic comes on for an injured Griffo, determined to make a huge impact for the Rabbitohs.

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

The Cretin Rule​

It is common belief that there are several blokes playing in the NRL that are lacking in the intelligence department. Blokes who is they couldn’t play football, would probably struggle in life. The kind of bloke who gets chance after chance to behave himself off the field, but can’t. They bounce from club to club, but never seem to get the picture. What is not common belief is the fact there is a rule that deals with the fans support of these players who bounce from club to club, the Cretin Rule, and it can be broken into 8 steps.

Step 1: Attraction
Fans watch troubled footballer running around for several years at another club. The news comes out that he has been acting up. The player is effectively sacked. Fans desperately want to sign this player, and get very excited when he is linked to their club. When he eventually signs the excitement levels begin to rise.

Step 2: Bargaining
Once they have signed the player they go ahead convincing themselves that this is a good signing, that he will take the club to the next level and the preseason stories about him being a changed man are true. Everything bodes well for this player’s stint at his new club, and excitement levels are high. Fans of player’s previous club are a little weary.

Step 3: Submission
Round 1 rolls around. The troubled star makes his debut for his new club. A lot of hype around this game, everyone wants the season to get off to a good start. The troubled star runs out and has a blinder, easily the best performing player on the field. Everyone is happy. Fans’ comments about this signing being a good idea are being proven correct it seems. Club officials are praised for taking a punt on the guy who clearly has talent, a stroke of genius by all those involved.

Step 4: Perks
The troubled star continues to dominate with his performances throughout the season. It seems he can do no wrong, and clearly is a reformed man. He is now a fan favourite at his new club, whereas fans of other clubs want the guy selected for origin as well, seeing exactly how well he is going. The media are all over him with praise, and no longer want to fault him. Fans of the previous club are morose. This can last weeks, months, even years, until the tipping point is reached.

Step 5: Tipping Point
The moment that old habits start to creep back into play. It could be a mild night out on the sauce that somehow gets a little messy, low range DUI, a scuffle with a drunken idiot, but it clearly isn’t very serious. The moment causes fans to think that the signing maybe wasn’t a good idea. They try to convince themselves it’s merely a one off incident, but it’s very clear to everyone involved they are in denial.

Step 6: Purgatory
​

The mess-ups continue. They happen consistently, and get more and more serious. Fans can no longer kid themselves; they now know for sure the club made a bad, bad idea. The club officials who made the signing are no longer praised for the masterstroke, instead being strung up for making such a bad decision, but the exact same people. Fans of player’s previous club pull out the famous “I told you so” line, and start to feel like the universe is back to normal.

Step 7: Confrontation
The moment comes where nobody can put up with the rubbish going on, and want the player out as soon as possible. Fans are bitterly disappointed, embarrassed and furious by the troubled player. It is proven beyond a shadow of a doubt that it was a horrible decision and did the club more harm than good. The player’s contract is inevitably terminated, and it seems the player will be lost to the game, not that anybody really cares. Once the club is free of the troubled player, the fans feel a huge weight lifted off their shoulders, and they begin to rebuild.

Step 8: Fallout
After a few weeks in hibernation, the player signs with a new club for the following season. Fans now have to put up with watching this guy tear it up for another club, where the cycle starts over. The player’s hater club has new members as the idiot has now wronged two clubs.

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

Word Count: 744
References: Steps taken from HIMYM Season 3 Ep 11 "The Platinum Rule" http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Platinum_Rule_(How_I_Met_Your_Mother)

 

[Willow]

Willow | Bluebags


Pep

"You guys have got to do better in the second half. Because there are only two halves."

We all love good half-time pep talks.

I tried it once - in high school - and it was only a soccer team. The coach deserted us so I stupidly put up my hand. We got thrashed regularly, so much so that the school disowned us. The team's lack of onfield success was largely due to the misfit nature of the players. The oldest was 17, the youngest 13. We called ourselves The Misfits.

But one day, we were leading 2-0 at the break - playing against older boys. I remember rallying the players with a half-time pep talk. I reminded them that we were The Misfits, and proud of it. It went down well.

Unfortunately the opposition didn't share the moment. At full-time we were clobbered again, 5-2. But it was our best score to date and a great moment for the team that no one wanted to know about.

After that I went back to playing rugby league, where I got to see real coaches in action.

After surveying the first half, a coach should know where strengths and weaknesses lay. Adjustments are required, injuries checked, encouragement delivered and advice dished out. Perhaps most of all, the coach has to get into the minds of players, lifting them with the right words.

Although, from what I'm told, it is also about what the coach doesn't say.

In 2009, Dragons winger Wendell Sailor was having an off game. Coach Wayne Bennett entered the dressing room at half-time. Sailor was sitting down, fearing the worst. Each player was given advice, the team as a whole listened. Bennett neared Sailor's position, his prodigy started to sweat. The two men had known each other for years. Indeed, Sailor often referred to Bennett as a father figure. On this day, Sailor didn't know what to expect - a verbal clip across the ear... or worse. But... then... Bennett just walked straight past him, without uttering a word.

Sailor's head hanged down. He knew then his coach didn't have to state the bleeding obvious, he simply had to lift his game - which he did in the second half.

Suffice to say, Bennett can read people. Under his guidance, the Dragons have staged many second half revivals, often keeping their opponents scoreless. Wayne Bennett is the undisputed master of the half-time pep talk.

But there have been some real clangers.

An old Bluebags supporter, my father still complains about the half-time 'pep talk' given by Newtown coach Warren 'Wok' Ryan during the 1981 grand final against Parramatta Eels.

According to reports, Ryan walked into the SCG sheds and simply told his players to 'have a good time'. No tactics, just 'let's just have fun boys!'

Trailing by just 7-6 at the break, Newtown hit the front when Tommy Raudonikis scored early in the second half.

But that was just some guts and determination from Raudonikis, a spurt in the bucket of hope, attempting to overcome the Bollinger-swigging indifference of the Member's Stand suits. Parramatta played to their game plan, going on to record a 20-11 victory. Presumably Eels coach, the late-and-great Jack Gibson, had a significantly more inspiring discussion with his team at half-time.

But I think the greatest half-time clanger belongs to former New Zealand Warriors coach Daniel Anderson.

In 2006, Kevin Campion launched an almighty attack on his 2002 coach, Daniel Anderson. Captain Campion maintained Anderson's half-time 'pep talk' cost the Warriors a premiership.

Down just 2-6 at the break, and the grand final in the balance, the team gathered to wait for Anderson's instructions. But what followed saw the team fall in a heap in the second half.

According to Campion, Anderson never addressed the players at half-time. Instead, he simply turned on a tape deck and walked out. The tape was a mock commentary where the Warriors scored the winning try against the Brisbane Broncos. One problem was their opponents in the real grand final were the Sydney Roosters.

"It starts playing... 'Welcome to the 2002 grand final, the Warriors versus the Broncos...'" said Campion.

"I flipped out and thought, what is this? I was just going, turn that sh*t off!"

Campion said some of his younger teammates were somewhat confused.

The Warriors ended up being belted 30-8 by the Roosters.

One wonders how Anderson was able to leave Auckland in one piece. Quite frankly, not even The Misfits would've let him get away with that.

Words | 750
Ref |
Quote | mcsweeneys.net/2007/1/23molyneux.html
Anderson/Campion story | stuff.co.nz

 

[Bubbles]

Bubbles on for Souths
_________________________________________
I (Wanna) Know What You Did Last Summer

So, rock-bottom rose up and thwacked the hapless, headless Roosters of 2009; five wins for the year and the most odious of awards, the wooden spoon. The clock ticks over, as it’s prone to do and 2010 rolls around bringing with it the tiniest flame of hope flickering in the uncertain winds of fortune that is the NRL season proper. ‘Only one way to go from here; up’ is surely the mantra for the 2010 new look Chooks!

Unbelievably, preposterously, the Roosters of 2010 play an exciting, committed, tough style of football that laid waste to the experts’ predictions for the year and they make the Grandfinal, only to fall victim to a well-oiled, determined Dragons side. C’est la Vie, as Kelly said before he was strung from a noose until he was dead, dead, dead. I won’t lie and tell you that it didn’t sting - a lot - nor can I deny that my sorrows were drowned beneath wave of wave of multi-coloured shots, each more incongruous than the last. The physical pain that racked my body from the moment my eyelids were pierced by an angry shaft of morning light did little to mask the heavy veil of sorrow shrouding my football heart. The off-season, therefore, was a much welcome time of healing and recalling the good times, remembering the good games and the great football played.

Cue 2011 and there is an expectation surrounding the Roosters’ camp. ‘To go one better’, this surely is the mantra for the Red, White and Bluesters. With an extremely sad predictability the pre-season is marred by controversy and the club is forced, on the eve of kick-off, to tackle the latest ‘indiscretion’ of their star player. But, still, by the time Round One is underway with a classic grudge match between the Roosters and Rabbits, that pesky flame is a-glowing; strong, fierce orange.

Now, some six rounds into the season and the flame is once again flickering, dangerously weak and tremulous as the Roosters of 2011 start with an uninspiring two from six and are staring down a two from seven win/loss ratio having a date with the Dragons next Monday in their traditional ANZAC Day clash. Look away, it’s going to get ugly!

But, as is often the case, talk of statistics and ratios falls short in capturing the true tale of woe and debacle that is the Roosters of 2011. I can tell you now, you have to be thick-skinned to be an East’s stalwart, able to deflect, to debate, to confuse and confound and all this while banging your head against a brick wall (and this still makes you smarter than half of the moronic players!). I liken being a Chooks fan to having a branch to your family that really ought to be pruned back, but blood is thicker than water (allegedly). Instead you end up at a family reunion watching Cousin Todd pass out under a table with his underwear on his head and a beer bottle wedged between his butt cheeks.

But hey, you defend them to all and sunder; no airing of dirty laundry, you save the bile-inducing abuse for the security of your own four walls. I’m going public now, my club, with one simple question; just what did you do over the off-season?

From what I’ve seen on the field thus far you didn’t focus much on things like catching the ball, and when you add in holding the ball, passing the ball and kicking the ball and I’m going to go out on a limb and say that ball-skills, in general, was only lightly brushed over. I am also becoming suspicious that the issue of our ill-discipline that plagued our otherwise exciting brand of footy last year has not been addressed. I would have expected an investigation, nay, a probe ordered into the alarming trend of giving away penalties like candy at Halloween. However, having watched my team concede one brain-dead penalty after another, particularly on the fourth or fifth tackle (fun!), I’m of the opinion that this sat, the white elephant in the room, totally ignored.

Add in the current off-field dramas (the sequel) and the Roosters of 2011 resemble bugger-all of their 2010 counterparts and are looking suspiciously and hideously like the lowly 2009 model. It’s going to be a long, long year...
___________________________________
Word Count: 732

 

[Non Terminator]

Non Terminator | Rabbitohs
731 Words

Passing The Anticipation Torch

It may only feel like yesterday, but unbelievably it was only just two and a half years ago. I will ask a question, can you still remember those unforgettable moments that occured during the 2008 Rugby League World Cup?

Alas, I can still remember those moments like they only occured yesterday. We are constantly reminded of them thanks to the highlight reels, a nice reminder (better than watching Scott Sattler tackle Todd Byrne for the one hundreth f*cking time). I can remember the passion, the emotion involved.

Can you all remember when Papua New Guinea, a side majorily filled with unknown local players, came ever so close to clinching the greatest upset in the history of Rugby League, falling short against England in Townsville?
Can you all remember when the Aboriginies and Maoris came together in one hell of an emotion-charged encounter, also remembering they just happened to play a game right after it?
Can you all remember, just days later, when Tonga and Samoa nearly topped that emotion in one hell of an encounter of their own?
Can you all remember when Fiji stunned the world as their very own unknowns became superstars on their way to the World Cup semi-finals?

Of course...that last one (especially for our neighbours).

Can you all remember when New Zealand, for the second time in several years, over-powered the heavily favoured Australian side in an action packed Final, revealing themselves once more as the best international side in Rugby League?

It has to be said once more. Memories like these will remain unforgettable. No matter who you support, hell, no matter who you hate.

The 2008 Rugby League World Cup was an amazing success. Well, it was in the Pacific. The island sides now have the chance to play against the big sides, as well as gaining some well-deserved publicity in matches against each other. For those who watched the 2009 Pacific Cup, you will know what I mean. Pure. F*cking. Quality.

So, what about Europe?

The World Cup, on the field at least, was a failure. The highly fancied English and French sides were continually tossed around like a common garden salad. Ireland and Scotland had negative records, despite pinning down some memorable moments of their own. Even though the upcoming World Cup will be hosted in Europe, it seems that England still don't look ready to compete against the might of New Zealand and Australia. Not only this, Scotland and France look shaky in their matches against the Pacific Nations.

The major difference is the addition of two sides. First of all, Wales. The competitive Welsh side failed to qualify for the World Cup in 2008, narrowly losing to Scotland in the automatic qualifier. The side failed when they were given their last chance, losing 50-26 to Lebanon, who also failed to make the World Cup. There has been plenty of hype for Wales, with one of their stars lining up against the rising Sam Tomkins in the most recent World Cup promotional pictures. Questions will continue to be asked, given the fact that, alongside England, Wales will be hosting the World Cup. There will be pressure, it'll be interesting to see if they can handle this, following their last World Cup performance (semi-finalists in 2000). They shouldn't have any trouble getting to the latter stages. They will be competing in three simple Pool matches, against the Cook Islands and the two eventual low-ranking qualifiers.

The second side, well, we don't know who that will be yet. Obviously, this will be one of the qualifiers. We will know who this will be later in the year, as hosts Serbia, Italy, Russia and Lebanon will be fighting it out for that spot. Russia (who have previous World Cup experience), Lebanon and Serbia are expected to fall easy, after recent news revealing many Australian NRL players will be choosing their heritage in the upcoming qualifiers. Does this sound familiar at all? Exactly how those Pacific Nations started. That step up, the locals did the rest.

Will Italy be the new Fiji, or Papua New Guinea?

Either way, not only Italy, but Europe have so much to prove. It is still two and a half years away, anything can happen between now and then.

So I issue this challenge to Europe.

Come on.

Give us those unforgettable moments.

 

[Non Terminator]

byrne_rovelli_fan82's Post
746 OWC


Falcons, Snouts and Flying Shoes – the lighter side of league

Rugby League has already been through its fair share of heartache and dramas even in its long 103year history. Still despite all the bad press it receives from players behaving badly to clubs being caught out for over-spending, it is good to know the game can still throw up a few funny moments to break the tension.

The best form of laughter though always happens when you least expect it.

The term ‘Falcon’, was made famous by former rugby league star Mario Fenech, after footage emerged on ‘The Footy Show’ of him walking away from the play, and in the next instant being caught totally unaware as the ball was passed at him smacking him square in the head.

Winger Kristian Inu retrieved the ball and headed for a hit up. Two Roosters players tackled him, yet they were unable to wrap his arm holding the ball. Seconds later the ball pops out around the corner; and Inu had flung it with quite a bit of force, and propelled the ball backwards. It spiralled straight into centre Shaun Berrigan’s forehead and bounced forwards constituting a knock on!

‘Wakey, wakey’ said one commentator as the replay popped up on screen, and the sight of Berrigan stumbling his way forwards in a failed attempt to catch the ball showed he was far from awake.

At a later stage in the game viewers were treated to another hilarious moment, with Warriors halfback James Maloney and Roosters forward Nate Myles with the two colliding and the impact to follow had a more adverse effect then what it intended. Maloney, with ball in hand as he moved to kick for field position which he got successfully; however just moments later Myles came through with an attempted charge-down, throwing himself at Maloney with his nose meeting the back of Myles’s shoulder. Myles came out of that shot clutching his arm in agony while Maloney, kept on going showing no ill-effects from the collision except for his snout which was start to turn a shade a red, in striking resemblance Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer.

Still the laughs continued, in the block-busting season opener between the Warriors and Eels at Eden Park, again featuring Maloney along with Jarred Hayne.

Midway through the game Maloney and Hayne collided in a tackle which resulted in a penalty to the Eels, and with them close to the Warriors line and threatening to score in the next set; Maloney took the ample opportunity to waste a little more extra time. He’d grabbed hold of Hayne in the tackle, and got a hold of his boot, pulled it straight off and threw it into the crowd!

Going back even further to another Warriors game in the second week of finals played between them and the Roosters this time involving a few chasing Roosters players and Warriors winger Aiden Kirk. The Roosters were piling on the pressure deep in the Warriors zone and a kick came through the chase was on but the ball beat everybody to the dead ball line. Kirk was the leading chaser trying to shadow the ball over the line; however all he did was bat it over the line with the help of his head. A prime example of a true falcon right here, as the ball rolling end on end taking a high bounce propping up, landing on the very top of Kirk’s head and bouncing away over the line. The best part of it was Kirk had a look around having no clue where the ball had gone all he felt was the tip of the ball bounce and fly.

Finally, here’s one for the little guy. Lance Hohaia is not a big player by any stretch of the imagination, so it is not surprising when it was revealed to the public a few years ago that one of his nicknames was Frodo.

Still, he never let this stop him, as one game last year against the Panthers proved, he is small in stature but big in heart. Penrith big man, Petro Civoniceva took the hit up expecting the Warriors to tackle him but he got what he got was the exact opposite, as only moments later he was flat on his rear end, and staring up he was expecting to see a big Warriors forwards looming large. Instead the smaller frame of the little fullback met him, definitely not what he expected!

~~

 

[Red Bear]

Red Bear runs onto the field at the last moment. Forgot the mouth guard as well, crap!

--------------------------------------------
Around the Grounds

It’s that certain feeling you get. A tingle perhaps, although one unrelated to a pulled advertising campaign for a mediocre Victorian beer. Maybe it’s a little adrenaline rush, a flutter of the heart. Maybe it’s a bit of a haze brought on by some sort of amber liquid.

And the game hasn’t yet commenced.

The pre-game ritual is an important part of rugby league, and as anyone knows this is not simply confined to the actual players! It is part of what makes a trip to the footy the near religious experience it is for many of us around here.

It isn’t always the most concrete of plans. Weather and, especially when travelling from the ‘Gong, traffic can throw even the best laid out plans into chaos/cause mild heart attacks. Then there’s the continual rookie era of planning your trip via CityRail, which ends with you charging up Foveaux Street, just hoping to make kick off.

It is, however, something that just offsets the upcoming game. Much like the far right dominating the Four Corners board, rugby union fans wearing a suit and scarf or TISM performing in balaclava’s, the experience wouldn’t be the same without it.

It’s an experience that differs vastly for different people. Some arrive early and watch the under 20’s. Some will seemingly mentally prepare themselves, praying to whichever god/flying spaghetti monster they personally believe for success, or at least not humiliation. Manly fans seem to enjoy ritually rocking up at about the two minute mark of the first half.

Myself? I guess I have a relatively standard routine on match day. Usually it will involve dad doing the driving up to Sydney, losing his mind around the airport and eastern distributor as usual (depending on where we are headed, of course). Park the car in an effort to avoid traffic, regardless of walking distance to the gate and then off to one of the numerous pubs that surround various grounds for a decent feed and, usually, a few cheeky schooners of Coopers Pale. The pub atmosphere and the ancient Reschs or Tooth’s advertisements seem to set the mood perfectly.

Maybe twenty minutes before kick off it’s time to get off the stool and off to the game. This is possibly my favourite part of the pre-match time. That moment you know exactly where you’re going

It’s that feeling of being part of that growing throng of people, all walking towards the ultimate destination. The excitement levels being transferred across the group, the early chants, name calling, bold proclamations. That knowledge that, in a few short minutes, you’ll be living the dream, watching your team run around.

This great feeling is particularly extenuated at a suburban ground. Snaking through small streets towards your destination. All the while the group seemingly expanding at every corner.

Once inside the ground I personally take great care to ignore the ground announcer as best possible. I’m certain there’s a special corner of hell reserved for these people.

The players running onto the field is almost a relief. That rush you get, knowing that after the build up it is finally game time. The whole crowd, as one, beginning to hit fever pitch. The kind of feeling that, as someone who has lived and breathed rugby league for about 16 of my 21 years, I would not trade for the world.

Funnily enough, the first twenty minutes or so tends to go by in a bit of a blur, as I settle myself down after the build up. Of course it only takes one slashing run, one dodgy penalty or one brutal tackle to bring that adrenaline back.

I’m sure that many vary from my own personal pre-game routine. The more family orientated are probably less inclined to go to the pub. Some may prefer a nice white wine to a delicious beer. Whenever you walk into a ground there are numerous people with their noses buried deep in the latest issue of Big League, seemingly ready to make last minute prediction of what will occur.

Whatever the method employed, that special feeling gained in the knowledge that live rugby league is imminent is one that every fan knows well. Just another part of what is great about the greatest game of all. There is always plenty going on around the grounds, even before a ball has been kicked!
--------

733 words

 

[Jesbass]

Time's up!

 

[Bwuce]

Great stuff Rabbitohs, now that we've got good odds, it's time to show them what we've really got.

 

[Marshall_magic]

5v5 well done everyone. First time in a long time us bunnies have got 5 articles in.

 

[Willow]

Perfect round for the F7s.

Great effort everyone, sensational scrambling. Well done Rabbitohs, you would save the five for us. ;-)

Over to you ref.

 

[griffo346]

good hussling team now lets not worry to much about this game onto our next see you all in the locker rooms

 

[Jesbass]

This match has not been marked! ;-)

But it will - honest. (We run an internet-based company and the other laptop has just gone belly up, so I'll try to get the marks done this evening. Hang tight, troopers!) :thumn