Round 1 (2009) EELS v RABBITOHS

[The Piper]

Forum 7s - Round 1 2009
PARRAMATTA EELS v SOUTH SYDNEY RABBITOHS

-v-

Game Thread:
* Please note - This is a game thread only, therefore only game posts can be made here (Teams, 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:
* 5v5 (+ 2 reserves for visiting team, 3 reserves for home team)
* No 'TBA' or changing players named
* Captains must stick with original teams named

ALL THE RULES & REGULATIONS: http://f7s.leagueunlimited.com/rules.php

FULL TIME: Wednesday 25th March 2009 at 9pm (Syd time)
REFEREE: Misanthrope
Venue: Parramatta Stadium

**The Referee Blows Game On!**

CLICK HERE FOR OFFICIAL WORD COUNTER

 

[bartman]

The Parramatta F7s Eels stride out for the first home game of the year, to the sounds of Jon English belting out "C'mon, Parra Power to win!"

Prince Charles
Dean
hallatia
fanaticeel
lingard
- - -
bartman (c)
MarkInTheStands (c)
eloquentEEL (c)

 

[Bumble]

The Rabbitohs are here:

Bumble (c)
Robster
Dave Q
Marshall_Magic
miccle

byrne_rovelli_fan82
Franko

 

[fanaticeel]

As fanaticeel moves to run the ball from eels territory after the kick off...
___________________________________________
I leave Brisbane and travel to Sydney for the Eels V Rabbitohs game and it’s hard to contain my excitement. There was me thinking I wouldn’t see many games this year and I’m off to the first realistic game I could attend, and it’s against a side that set the league world alight the previous weekend with some razzle dazzle football.

Despite many commentators saying that the Eels were probably going to be beaten I had been impressed with the side's previous effort against the Warriors. In that game they were really up against it. A Warriors team desperate to win for Steve Price and Sonny Fai and containing some of the most explosive players in the game today, and yet Parramatta only lost by 8 and the Eels were coming home with a wet sail.

So I rush from Sydney Airport - stupid no daylight saving in Queensland - and get there in time to see the first grade. I had missed the Toyota Cup game but from the score it didn’t look good for the Eels.

Not a good start in first grade with an error from Hindy and my mate turns to me and reminds me that he’s on minus 2 so far for fantasy league points! This does not bode well. It seems like we never have any ball, the bunnies attack and attack and I comment that finally we seem to have found ourselves a goal line defence this year.

It’s buzzing at halftime and I sense we can win, plus that bet on Parramatta by 1 – 12 @ 3.75 is looking good! The second half feels like a blur then Reddy’s in. Yesssss! We are in front by 6 and it seems that the Rabbitohs are throwing everything including the kitchen sink at the Eels and we still repel attack after attack.

The final seconds count down and I alienate a few upset Bunnies fans with my exuberance, I quickly rush out and catch up with my mates as we head off to the Novotel for a quick one. How good was that? That fleeting sense of euphoria you feel when your team overcomes the odds and wins - oh, and when you win $375 it certainly helps!

As I head off into the night I feel safe in the knowledge that at least for another week the Eels aren’t the worst, and I start to plan my next assault on the Harbour city to come down and watch my team.

This sport we love is so tribal, you feel so many emotions while you watch. It’s like you just can’t seem to get enough... it’s like oxygen! It’s so difficult to explain to people where that deep commitment comes out of me when discussing or talking about the Eels. For the fanatic, you can’t wait for summer to finish so that you can enjoy the dissection of your team’s performance week in week out. I know because I had made this very observation to a mate in November.

For me (as a fanatic), it’s truly tragic living and supporting an interstate team. I only buy the newspaper when the Eels win and in a town dominated by the Broncos, Titans and Cowboys it’s hard to find a story about your own team. I also buy Big League or Rugby League Week when we win, and then I search the NRL website just so I can watch the game again.

Being so far away in Brisbane when my team is Sydney based has been the hardest thing for me to overcome. After just one weekend of footy I’m contemplating a move back, so that I can once again travel to as many Parramatta games as possible. So for the time being I may not get to as many games, may not be able to read up about my team as often nor attend fan days - but don’t question my commitment!

It’s been a trying start to the year, with moving interstate to a new job and then being denied access to my 8 year old son by my son’s mother. The last time I was denied access was back in 2001 when we had first separated and football got me through that. This year, I’m hoping for a repeat performance....

 

[Dave Q]

Dave Q pulls on the red and the green for the first time……

The Angel, Sonny and me.

Seven years of water polo, swimming championships, life saving medals, 400 m swims, even diving (!) had all conspired to make me a little over-confident in the water.

Some years ago, I went down to the beach after work in the early twilight. The seas were calm, weather fair and about a dozen happy souls were gayly splashing about in the glittering sun and sea.

I frolicked freely in that whorish surf for about a half an hour. I was in my element and feeling on top of the world. Then it dawned on me that I was the furthest out by some distance and that my 12 fellow swimmers had morphed into 2.

I tried to keep surfing and swimming my way to the beach, but after awhile of trying my strongest strokes I came to the conclusion that I was caught in a rip. In its wisdom, the sea had decided to capture me and as it turned out, it didn’t want to let me go without a brutal life or death struggle.

So I stopped swimming and tried to float and dog-paddle in the increasingly confused surf that by this time seemed to heading in all angles. A kind of tidal equivalent of chaos theory.

What kills drowning people is running out of energy. I didn’t have the stamina to stay on the surface indefinitely, so I began to sink and surface, sink and surface. Each time in this forlorn cycle, I spend a little longer under the water and little less time above it. To save time, I worked out that I could expel air on my way up to the surface, so I could breathe in as soon as I got my head above the water. A few precious seconds saved. Wow bonus extra lifetime!

But soon I am getting desperate. I am wrestling with the water, crawling vertically, kicking, using every last ounce of my energy to get up and get that elusive breath. Then I began sucking in a little sea water while I was under the water. I cannot bring myself to shut my eyes. The water has turned into liquified cast-iron.

And then the Angel appeared.

A strapping young bloke (prop material) on a fatigued dainty pink Styrofoam surfboard is making his way towards me. I can just make him out when I am above the water. He finally arrives and heaves me up. I collapse in a heap on the beach. I can’t move. I have been reduced to a blubbering gasping mess. But I am alive and the prognosis for my continued existence for the next 5 minutes is infinitely much better than it was a short time ago.

It turns out I am 1 of 5 people that this bloke rescued that afternoon. He is on the dole learning to surf. He thought he’d save a few lives that afternoon just for the hell of it! The next day I return to the beach at twilight with my fiberglass twin fin, ready to hand it over to this most unlikely hero. That’s all I could think that he would have wanted. My life equated to a grubby surfboard. That’s good enough for me!

But of course he didn’t show. I ask around and no-one whom I spoke to, none of the locals even, had ever seen him or heard of him.

Sonny had just finished several hours of grueling training on the beach. His family joined him afterwards. Sonny told his family not to swim that day. So when they did, he watched them carefully. When he saw them get into trouble he dived in immediately. He organized them to lock hands, so the strongest could hold up and help the weakest. They were struggling back to shore when a large wave hit them and his brother fell off the human chain. Sonny swam after him and with the last remnants of his energy; he dragged his brother to sweet sweet safety.

Once he had achieved this, Sonny Fai was swept away into the oceanic abyss and has been missing ever since.

It has been estimated that Sonny saved up to 7 lives that day. It seems the only life he wouldn’t save was his own.

And I wonder about Sonny pretty often. I wonder if Sonny was born for that moment.

Maybe God told my Angel to stay away because Sonny was someone He wanted to get to know a lot better.

………………………………………………………………………………………………
750 words.

Always swim between the flags...when they are flying may help a touch!

PM Big Mick about how you can help Sonny’s wonderful and caring family.

 

[bartman]

Off: Dean
On: bartman

 

[Bumble]

*Bumble coming in surprisingly early*

The Life and Times of a 'never was'
​

Whilst I am a keen follower and part-time writer of Rugby League, my heart will always belong to another mistress. My first love, soccer, sockah, football. Obviously not going to be welcome comments on a RL forum, but it's the truth. Despite this, I, at various times in my schooling life tried my hand at Rugby League with, unsurprisingly, little success.

I was a soccerboy through and through, couldn't tackle to save my life, nor was I a very strong runner. Could kick alright and catch, due to cricket. I was not however, the agile and nimble flyer that people had hoped I would be. I thought I could briefly outline my storied career as a RL player for you good people, as it will probably make you feel much better about your own successes in this great game:

Year 4: Canterbury-Bankstown Schools knockout - St Christopher's P.S v Sefton

I think I caught a kick off and passed it to a fat kid. No missed tackles though. Our clear lack of giant Polynesians compared to our opposition was of detriment. We lost.

Year 6: CBS knockout - St Christopher's P.S v Bardwell Park, then Narwee

After we easily beat our first opponents and I had the impressive figures of 1 hit up, 0 tackles, 0 missed, we lost our second match. This would see yours truly make a heroic goal line tackle with seconds to go to keep the score at a respectable 16-0. The game was only 14 minutes.


Year 8: Wests knockout - Hurlstone Agricultural H.S v Campbelltown Performing Arts, Casula, Ingleburn and Hoxton Park

A fairytale run saw our predominantly rugby-centred school make it all the way to the last four before getting flogged. I don't think I made it on the field in 2 of the games, but I do recall throwing a hospital pass to my mate against Casula, and missing a one on one tackle. Super stuff.

Year 9: Wests knockout, Edmonson Zone weekly sport, too many opponents

Easily the highlight of my career as a Rugby League dynamo, after weeks of doing very little I actually gained a POTY point against East Hills Boys after making 3 tackles in a row and then a line-break on the next set. Given my track record, it wasn't hard to impress my coaches. My finest moment though came when we played the Rugby team in a sort of hybrid game at the end of the year. Given my soccer background, I was to take the lineouts, seeing as I was already used to doing throw-ins. We only lost one on my throw. (We took 2)

Year 10: Wests knockout - Hurlstone Agricultural H.S v Leumeah, Casula, Airds and Hoxton Park

Once again we made the last four and were once again slaughtered by Hoxton Park and their plethora of junior Eels. I actually played almost a full game in the centres in the semi, and about half the game in the quarters against Airds - A thrilling encounter won 12-6, which saw their players try to start a fight after the game, and then, try to chase the referee up a nearby bell tower. Sportsmanship is refreshing.

Year 12: Annual - Day Students v Boarders match

The swansong in this young heroes glorious odyssey, all prior battles had led to this game. The amount of pride on the line is unfathomable to those outside our school. The boasting after the game is about 99% of the reason you want to win. And win we did, by 2, our hooker dove over with about a minute left. I played a whole game on the wing, catching a short kick off they attempted and making a couple of tackles, generally not doing much. Safe as a house, naturally.

The Future

But where to now for your hero? Well, apart from the occasional backyard or beach game, the career is over. I was actually our school's leading scorer in touch footy when I played, not that it was difficult to just sit on the wing, catch and run a couple of steps.

As far as full-on contact goes, however, the chance of return is virtually zero. I was, admittedly, useless. My sport is and always will be soccer, not that I see myself as particularly good at that either. Would've been nice if I could have scored at least one try across my 9 year Rugby League career. C'est la vie.

----

745 words including title

 

[miccle]

Miccle finally takes the field for the Rabbitohs...



******

Goin' to the chapel...

Some of the cynics among us can no doubt draw many distinct similarities between a game of football and a marriage. The epic power struggle which constantly exists between the two parties is always laced with mutual respect and understanding. At times the going can be gritty, tough and unappealing, while some days are filled with fluid and beautiful coexistence which can be a marvellous thing to watch and be involved in.

If something old, something new, something borrowed and something blue makes a solid foundation for a wedding day, then I would argue the same phrase could be used in setting the foundations for an exciting and action-packed season. If the first two rounds of this year are anything to go by, 2009 shapes as a thriller which will end with an epic evening in Sydney early this Spring.

The category of something old is ably and easily filled by the return of two of the games’ most well-known players. After three and a half years away from the NRL, Stacey Jones’ impressive comeback for the Warriors against reigning premiers Manly was a thing of real beauty and easily stood out as the highlight from round two. Anyone questioning the natural physical demise of humans as we age would clearly have been shocked by Stacey’s performance that day. He somehow seems to have become more nimble on his feet, his passing skills are as crisp as ever and the fitness, clearly, is no issue for the little general.

On the other side of the Tasman is another of our more notorious prodigal sons, with big Wendell Sailor winding back the clock for the Dragons under former coach Wayne Bennett. Anyone would be forgiven for thinking they had travelled back ten years if they turned on the television to see the controversial winger run 60 metres to set up a try for Matt Cooper against the Storm in round one. Big Dell’s flamboyance, attitude and showmanship has seen fans and haters alike flock to games, and he will undoubtedly help put bums on seats for the Red V, even as the global financial crisis starts to bite.

The best thing about our great game is its ability to create new young stars with each season that passes, and it’s pretty clear that Bulldogs’ back Jamal Idris is one of the brightest talents going around in the competition, and he easily fills the something new category here. While his appearances in 2008 highlighted at the potential he could have in the future, the early part of 2009 has seen the giant centre obliterate his opponents with powerful runs and strong defence. After the drama that has engulfed the Bulldogs club throughout this decade, fans must be breathing sighs of relief and excitement at the prospect of Idris remaining on the field in their colours.

It’s not often young footballers travel from the Old Dart to cut their teeth in the world’s premier rugby league competition, but Tigers’ forward Gareth Ellis fits in perfectly to fill the something borrowed category. Poor performances on the international stage and the perception of the Super League being merely a retirement home for old NRL players has greatly hindered England’s reputation in recent years, but Ellis has the ability to single-handedly turn that around.

Something blue, of course, can be easily found when you examine the amount of players vying for New South Wales jerseys in the 2009 State of Origin series. Desperate to avoid four straight series defeats and with mountains of depth in most positions, the selectors are under the pump to get the right squad picked, and to prepare them well for what will be an intense series.

We will eventually get to the chapel – or at least the 80,000-seat chapel in Sydney town – where the two sides will come to exchange fists, tries, hits and line breaks not for 80 years, but for 80 minutes. Everlasting love may instead, in this case, turn into everlasting rivalry which closely resembles a long and spite-filled divorce.

Nevertheless, my argument remains and my version of something old, something new, something borrowed and something blue will clearly impact on the events of 2009, before we adjourn for yet another long and drawn-out summer honeymoon. With a lot more action yet to take place before that, let’s just hope and pray no footballers read this piece and decide a buck’s night, or many of them, are in order.

******

747 words, including title.

 

[Prince Charles]

Prince Charles for the Eels

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


A fan at crossroads

Another off season, another controversy. Sad as it is for any true Rugby League fan, our game has once again taken a hammering thanks to some players who take for granted just how good they have got it.

A week or so ago, I heard a comment from Channel Nine’s Andrew Voss. His point was, if he was given a chance to be a gifted and talented NRL player who pulled in a six figure sum each year and the only sacrifice that he had to make was give up drinking, well that would be the easiest decision of his life. How true that is. For us also rans, the compromise of giving up such a simple luxury in exchange for such a special ability would not even take a moments thought.

It is, however, easy to argue that the idea of prohibition is a tad extreme. Many have come out and declared it stupidity to even consider trying to impose an alcohol ban. If a player was caught for speeding, we don’t take away every players licence. So it is with alcohol that we must punish the individual and not the whole.

But the lesson doesn’t appear to be sinking in. So what can we do? At times it feels like the only people who don’t understand what damage the players are creating is the players themselves. Now we find ourselves in the unique situation whereby the people we so heavily rely on each weekend for entertainment are also the ones who disappoint and embarrass us so often. Heroes on the field, villains off it.

Thankfully, after the off season dramas involving Brett Stewart and Anthony Watmough, the games natural defence mechanism sprung to life. On the 13th of March we witnessed two matches plucked from the top shelf. Come Sunday, a resurgent Rabbitohs outfit blasted their arch enemies off the field creating wonderful front and back page stories the next day. All seemed good in the game once again.

Then, BANG! Jake Friend caught drink driving. Brett Seymour excessively drunk in public. Back page, front page, six o’clock news, everywhere. So how many more times can the NRL lift itself from the proverbial canvass and continue punching. Will there be a knock-out blow that thumps the life out of our sport?

On a personal note, I can admit that for a long time, I was one of those people who happily stuck their head in the sand and pretended it was nothing to be concerned about. I would trot out the usual easy excuses – “the players are targeted in pubs”, “who hasn’t been drunk and done something stupid”. Even “from what I’ve heard, the girl was all over him all night – she wanted it”. Essentially I didn’t care, practically laughing off the controversies. I was happy to remain a fan so long as it never directly affected me.

But things change and I now find myself entering a new chapter in my life. I’ve ignored the usual taunts from mates that people like me shouldn’t breed and am blessed to have a child on the way. As I have also discovered, along with the child comes the heavy feeling of responsibility. The idea that a person will be relying on me for example and guidance means that I now choose more carefully what activities I undertake and which passtimes fill my spare moments. Now, instead of the game, I find myself asking how many more times can I leap from the canvass and continue to love this sport. If I want my child to learn positive lessons and be influenced by well doing role models then I have to consider if there are better sports to introduce the young one to than Rugby League.

Now, I am a lifetime fan. I’ve followed the sport since I was a boy. I never thought my feelings could change on the game so I can promise you that if I feel this way then there are bound to be others in the same boat.

But all is not lost. After all, my child is still no more than a bump in my partner’s belly. But I do wonder what the future holds and throughout all the talk of banning players from booze, big fines and suspensions, I’m left wishing there was a way to explain to players that unless they change their wicked ways today, they may be playing in empty stadiums, then empty parks.

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

750 words between the lines

 

[bartman]

Off: bartman
On: MarkInTheStands

 

[Robster]

Robster runs out for the Rabbitohs.


--
​

‘DON’T GIVE UP’

​

Heroes of Rugby League today are the the players, who make something out of nothing. They win games. As for the Warriors, the Little General, ‘Stacey Jones’ is a genuine Rugby League hero. Without his skills and talents, the Warriors would be a much more ordinary side. But a hero for me is someone who can be described in three words. They are Humility, Courage and Sacrifice.

Early January Evening Sonny Fai and his relatives were gathering around Bethalls beach in Auckland. Around 8:30 at night Gillesbie Fai (Sonny’s brother) was caught in a killer rip. Sonny Fai was first to react and told his seven other relatives not to jump into the treacherous sea. Sonny managed to assist his stranded brother and instructed him ‘Don’t give up, you can make it’. Gillesbie with Sonny’s help and verbal encouragement, managed to get out of the rip and free himself. But Sonny was not so fortunate.

I have never meet Sonny Fai in person but I can speak for every Warrior fan when I say that when a Warrior dies, a huge part of all of us is taken away. Ive heard that Sonny was a loving Christian with a great sense of humor. He was also destined to one day become a Rugby League superstar. But to me he is more then just a sporting icon, he is a real-life hero.

David Taylor (Jesbass), Joe Galuvao , and me.
​

On March 14 2009 I had the great honour and privilege of helping Jesbass sell Sonny Fai wrist bands alongside of Brentwebbsno1fan. Not to mention the wristbands wouldn’t of been made possible with the contribution from Big Mick who took a big risk and loaned us the funds to make their purchase possible. We sold all 750 wristbands in 15 minutes. All proceeds went to Sonny’s brave and loving family.

After the game Jessbass, Brentwebbsno1fan and I approached the Parramatta Eels players to sign our volunteer shirts so we could auction them off for charity. They agreed straight away. Much to their credit, each player we spoke to had something nice to say about Sonny and proved that Sonny’s loss was felt beyond New Zealand. Sometimes league is just like a big family. Let me just add it was also fitting the New Zealand Warriors won that night.

As I wear my wristband it’s a sign of encouragement to strive through life and get past my obstacles. Simply looking at the words of ‘Don’t Give up’ on my wristband provides me with more motivation and determination that a can of ‘v energy’ could ever give me. I have decided to keep wearing this wristband until the Warriors win their first ever Grand Final. This way I won’t give up on my sporting dream on witnessing an Auckland based team lifting one of Australia’s most prized possessions, the NRL trophy. I feel Sonny Fai’s last words to his brother will be the words which will make me successful in life. ‘Don’t Give up’

This is my passage tribute to Sonny:

When I awake in my bed. I will always pray for a Sonny day. Sonny I tipped you to be a upcoming superstar. You were always bound to play for the Kiwis and ending up playing with one of your own heroes in Stacey Jones.

Sonny even though I'm just a fan, your disappearance from life has really affected me but gives me blessing to ask God to bless you even more. You will always be bigger then a Rugby League Immortal, You are a life hero. You saved your brothers life and you should be labelled as one of God's gifts in heaven.

Sonny you are more then just a Warrior. You’re an extraordinary character. Though I haven't met you my Warriors signed jersey of 2006 is just so much more precious then ever before. RIP Sonny. May Jesus take care of you in heaven.

[FONT=&quot]GOD BLESS YOU SONNY[FONT=&quot].
---------------
661 words.
[/FONT][/FONT]

 

[Marshall_magic]

Marshall Magic is caught seagulling on the wing when the ball comes his way. with 10m to run, battling fatigue and the cover defence, he charges for the line and DIVES...

******

What Makes A League Legend​

The term “legend” is thrown around a lot these days, often too loosely. A guy has a few good years, maybe wins a premiership or an origin series, and he gets called a legend. Only a few players seen in the past 10 years could be worthy of this tag. Andrew Johns being the obvious one, and Darren Lockyer also standing out. Shane Webcke also fits the bill as does Brad Fittler. One thing all of these guys have in common is the ability to get their side over the line in a tight match with a big play in the dying moments. Whether it be a huge charge getting the opposition back pedalling, or a beautiful cut out pass, or even a massive line break from their own red zone, these guys are the guys you want in your side in the dying moments of a big game, when the match hangs in the balance. One bloke is often over looked in these discussions.

Flashback to Round 25, 2005. The Warriors are playing their last match of a disappointing season, on a Saturday night at Brookvale Oval. The little general, Stacey Jones is playing what then seemed to be his last ever NRL match, against a Manly side who with a win can secure a finals spot. With only pride on the line, and the incentive of “doing it for Stacey” the Warriors are keen for a win, but with only minutes left on the clock, are down by a few points. They need someone to stand up, and the little general knows it is his moment. With the Warriors on the attack with their last throw of the dice, the ball ends up in Stacey’s hands. He looks for runners outside, but there appears to be nothing on, then all of a sudden, BAM! He does it himself. With a big left foot step, he slices through the tiring Manly defence for the match winner, and can go out a winner. This is the stuff of legends.

Fast-forward to November 2008. The Warriors have just capped off a great finals run after scraping into 8th spot, and getting within a match of the grand final. For the upcoming season they are considered a force to be reckoned with. But coach Ivan Cleary thinks one thing is missing. He gets on the phone and calls up former team mate but now retired Stacey Jones and asks about a comeback. Stacey agrees, and shocks the Rugby League world. The bloke hadn’t played a game in a year, surely he won’t guide the Warriors to victory.

Jump another 4 months into the future, and March 2009. The Warriors come into round 2 facing one of the toughest tasks in Rugby League, Manly at Brookvale. After missing round 1, Jones is returning to the venue of his last NRL match, but things have changed. Manly are now defending premiers and they are filthy with their first up loss, and are ultra keen to get on the board. Jones starts the game and his big NRL comeback from the bench, and in a backwards and forwards game, with less than 10 to go the Warriors are down 24-16. With his last throw of the dice, Jones from his own half goes for the chip and chase. The ball floats over the Manly line and bounces straight back into his own hands. HOW DID HE DO THAT? But there is still work to do. He throws the dummy to McKinnon, before sending centre Brent Tate away to get it back to 24-20. But the job is not done. With less than 3 minutes on the clock, Jones puts the chip in for his outside men. Vatuvei and Bani go up, but neither come down with it. Then ROPATI DIVES ON IT! The Warriors level it up, Denan Kemp slots the conversion from the sideline, and the Warriors will win. Jones has returned to the ground of his past heroics, and does it again for the Warriors.

Only a true legend of League could have pulled off such a remarkable series of events. Anybody who leaves the little general off their list of League Legends is kidding themselves. There have been some great kiwi players over the years, but none better than Stacey. The guy has as much skill as anybody in the game now, but unlike many greats of the game, is all class off their field.
***********

748 words between the stars

 

[lingard]

Lingard strides onto the field, with butterflies in the stomache. Adjusts his shorts, pulls up his socks, and... oh, sh*t! I forgot my boots!

Oh, yes; Rugby League is more than just a game.

On a sunny winter day in 1966, I went with my father to Cumberland Oval. Parramatta pitted against the might of St George. My dad said, "There`s Ken Thornett", and "that`s Reg Gasnier". Pointed out other players. They all looked like giants to me. Explained bits and pieces of the game. I was mesmerised.
When we got home, he had another fight with my mother. The police were called again. But a skinny kid with asthma was hatching a plan.
At school, I filled my pockets with stones, to make the weight for the four-stone seven`s league team. If I could just be like Ken Thornett....
I read 'Johnny Raper`s Guide to Rugby League' and studied all the diagrams and photographs. My parents bought me a real leather football, with Ken Thornett`s autograph on it. I slept with it for months; held it to my face and breathed in the smell of new leather; hardly had it out of my hands. When I got my first pair of football boots - with real metal studs - I clicked and clacked on the pavement all day and felt like a giant too. Nothing could hurt me when I had those boots on.

In 1969, I started high school. My relationship with my father had deteriorated. We could not connect anymore, except through the occasional: "I think Sulkowicks is out today. Leg injury. By the way, have you got any homework?" Rugby League - and, in particular, the Parramatta team - was to become our only connection. I thought he hated me. He thought I hated him.
I played in the school 'B' team. Not a champion, but I was accepted as one of the school`s warriors. The confidence that had been sucked out of me at home came roaring back on the footy field. A skinny kid with asthma could tackle giants!
I went to Cumberland Oval with my younger brothers now, and my dad drifted into the background. It was the three of us standing on the hill, like three tall trees, cheering for the Parramatta team in the winter sun.

I left home in 1975 and made my way in the world. My father and I became virtual strangers then. When I rang the house, it was: "Did you see the game on Saturday? Yeah. Good, eh? Yeah, they were good; is mum there?" Otherwise we might not have spoken at all.

Then, in 1981, something happened. Caught up in the euphoria of an unprecedented year, we sat around the television in the house in Parramatta - my father, two brothers and I - and watched the unbelievable. The Parramatta team in the Grand Final. Playing well in the grand final. Struggling in the grand final. Punch-drunk in the grand final. No! Fighting back! Turning it around! WINNING the grand final! And unbelievable, too, because it was the four of us in the same room, cheering, groaning, exalting together! Even my mother joined in. We hadn`t had a family moment like that since...... well, for a long time.

In 1982, my youngest brother died. Drowned. Caught in a rip. The family was at first thrown together in grief - caught in a rip of its own - but then, ultimately, thrown scattered out the other end. My remaining brother went to Queensland; I went to Newtown; my parents clung to each other in the little house in Parramatta. Life was tough.
But, again, we re-grouped in the lounge room of that house in Parramatta for the 1983 Grand Final. And although Phil wasn`t there, and although that was a great loss, we all assumed, I think, that he was cheering along with us. Somewhere.

And now they`re all dead. My two brothers and my father. A heart attack, a drowning and a kidney disease.
All dead.
And so I watch the game alone.
But not alone - because every time I see our blue and gold giants stride onto the fresh-cut turf, and I smell the leather and the liniment; and when I hear the sound of jarring tackles carried on the breeze; and every time I hear the shouts and cheers, I hear my father and my brother and my brother shouting too.
And I sit again in the little house in Parramatta. And I stand again on the hill. And I see a little boy with pockets full of stones; and I hear my father say, "Look, there`s Ken Thornett!"

Word count: 742

 

[bartman]

Posted by proxy for Eels player MarkInTheStands... word count 749.

A Case Study in League Politics

Since November, the Parramatta Eels have been embroiled in a stage managed attempt to change the leadership at the club. This attempt has been very public, very open, very bitter and indeed very much staged managed. It has seen protagonists from the club's past dragged back into public light. It has seen the club's legends paraded around, and it has seen the partial political fall of one of our club's great gentleman.

But league politics is funny because it is never about reality, or in our current NRL, the workings of the team. It is about emotions. League has survived and indeed thrived for 100 years in this country on emotions, the adulation and exhilaration of winning, the hollow and sorrow of defeat. Over the years, fans of league have become so emotionally attached to their clubs, now the mere threat to any of them (like the loss of the Jets or the Bears) stirs greater emotions. And this makes league politics purely emotional, with reality hardly required to make an argument.

Then you bring this emotive topic kicking and screaming into the information age. If you are not online, you might as well be dead. If you are not a gun with the keyboard, you may as well be scratching your message on a tablet. Couple this with the NRL's push for membership and you start to fuel a fire for change that could well be counter-productive and lead to a perception that the club's culture is closed simply because the members have to do something to get the information.

Over the next month we will see the many people standing for election to the Parramatta Leagues Club, either in the news or indeed around at Parramatta games, asking for member’s votes. But this election, while seen by many as the last chance to save Parramatta from financial obliteration. will most probably not have the high profile headlines of the Football Club elections last December. Why? Because there are no footballers running in opposition to the current board.

Over the last 4 months since the December Football Club vote it has been interesting to see the make-up of the new board. Of the 3 surviving members from the previous board, 2 are former first grade footballers, Geoff Gerard and new club President Ron Hilditch. The other board member to carry on is Dr Michael Johnson; some would say he was shielded from the political fallout because of his low profile, others because of his role for the last 28 years as the club's director of medicine.

On the opposition candidacy, there were 3 first grade footballers; indeed all are members of the Legends of Parramatta side named in 1997. These legends bought with them the man organizing their ticket, John Chidiac, who has been around the club for many years with varying different political factions. What is interesting is that 5 of the 7 are first previous first graders. All but one won a premiership with the club.

These were named people and the opposition campaign worked to promote their names as those endeavouring to make a difference. The other 4 candidates hardly drew any notoriety. The three Legends all drew the most support. But looking at the history of the Parramatta Football Club elections, this could have been predicted with now President Ron Hilditch receiving the most number of votes in any election for the last 4 years apart from December's. Indeed the Football Club vote is a popularity contest with footballers always leading the way.

So we turn to the Leagues Club elections, and not a single footballer is running on the major opposition ticket. No long standing club names like Hughes at the Bulldogs; some football related people but most of those are only known to the most ardent of the club's supporters. The only person doing any talking about this campaign is Terry Leabeater who after his membership issues seems to have been appointed the role of Press Secretary - not a candidate but the voice of those that are.

The Football Club has less than 700 members who all received letters and phone calls in the December election, whereas the Leagues Club has over 39,000 members. The Annual Report is the only written form of communication that candidates will be able to use to speak with the members, and then only to those that have signed up to receive it.

The scene is set, so enjoy the show.

 

[Hallatia]

Hallatia makes a late dash for the line in her first outing donning the blue and gold

Ж​

The more things change...​

History uncovers some interesting patterns in human behaviour and ritual. In yesteryear Ancient Greece man was immersed in what the colosseum had to offer. The colosseum served as a socialising agent, entertainment, spectacle, competition, theatre, etc. The gladiators were warriors; loved, idolised and heroes for many.

Since then the focuses of society have remained quite similar. The warrior character is glorified and loved. He maintains a level of reverence and status from within the society he is a part of. This is not just a practice which evolved from Ancient Greece, rather it is one that has existed and will continue to exist everywhere in whatever shape or form.

These gladiator types earn a place in society as popular heroes. They pay their societies back by performing in the arena. This in turn earns them more adulation. The contrary is also possible and crowds can be split in favour of separate parties. What then becomes common is the baying for blood and a good battle.

There is something about humanity which inclines us toward this sort of activity. We may be able to call it violent and inhumane, but we love our gladiators. The Colosseum would be packed to the rafters with fans, all baying for blood. Men and women alike loved the gladiators. Men wanted to be them and women wanted to have sex with them.

How much has changed? We still have the same battles; the same environments; the same crowds. The thing is; today our support for rugby league, like the colosseum fills a niche in the human psyche, we are programmed with this appetite and throughout history we have found different ways to fill it. But how different are they really?

Naturally, things changed and are upgraded with the times, as well as the different agendas and reservations of societies. Are the modern day codes of football which involve the same warrior type heroes in the central roles not just evolutions of the gladiators of yesteryear? Are the stadiums today not just evolutions of the colosseum of yesteryear?

Since the inception of the colosseum and the role of gladiators, it was constantly being refined. As society evolved the type of battle did too. By today’s standards the battles of the colosseum may seem inhumane. By the same token, by today’s standards some tackles of the more recent past would seem wrong to us. We are constantly refining but the primal elements will always remain, because our make up as humans will always demand them.

The modern day colosseum is not the same elaborate building, although the football stadiums of today have remarkable similarities. The arena atmosphere is very much the same; the rows of spectators looking in on a battle at the centre of the ground and the tribal gatherings of the supporters of each party.

With technology though, this new colosseum is even brought to people’s homes. These battles have become readily accessible to all. As the demand grows because societies have grown, there had to be a way to bring these out to everyone. Delayed broadcasts, every game being available on pay tv, most bases are covered to ensure everyone can get their fill of what their human instincts desire.
This modern day combination of technology and our colosseums only widens the audience and does not change the composition of the crowds. The crowds consist of people from every walk of life because this form appeals to everybody. And everyone can access these games.

Viewing these games from a home or pub environment does not deprive people the atmosphere. The colosseum atmosphere still exists amongst the smaller group, because it is still the same types of people filling the same niche in their makeup which desires the viewing of this type of activity. The same niche which brings them together and helps them see what they desire in the match ups and the individuals involved in the game.

Who visits the modern day colosseum? Everyone, why? To watch men battle it out and when the time is right, call for blood. Say what you will about the nature of the ancient activities, the thing about human nature is that it inclines us toward them – even today.

Ж​

707 words

 

[Pistol]

fultime

 

[bartman]

5 v 5

Well done all, and best of luck to both sides with the verdict.

 

[Hallatia]

fultime

what happened to the clock?
and the other l:crazy:

 

[Pistol]

what happened to the clock?

who cares

i was in a rush

 

[Pistol]