Azkatro posting for the Panthers.
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The Vibe
Well at the moment I, like tens of thousands of other people across the nation, am currently suffering through the agony that is round 1 of tipping competitions.
Something I find most fascinating about the experience is what I like to call the vibe, and it goes a little something like this.
You see, when you actually know a bit about rugby league, you tend to weigh up certain factors before making a decision on who you think is going to bring home the bacon. More often than not theres a key indicator that makes you sway one way or the other. Maybe the away side is going through a drought at the oppositions home ground. One or two of a teams key players have been ruled out through injury. One team are coming off a loss to an absolute rubbish side. Whatever it is, eventually something makes itself apparent enough to make you sit up and say: Yes. Thats the key factor. Team X is going to lose because of it.
A certain feeling of smugness comes over you. Your decision is made and almost nothing is going to make you change your mind. Its like you found the key to working out who is going to win, unlocked the door and saw something that nobody else in your tipping competition could possibly have seen.
So you saunter in to work the next day. Even though its only Wednesday, you aim to turn the conversation to footy.
Its a load of crap, I reckon, the council are too strict on all the stuff you have to do just to take your dog for a walk. Its like they..
You cut in abruptly, with the opportunity for a seamless, natural segue having presented itself.
Yeah speaking of dogs, I reckon theyve got the Tigers covered this weekend, no doubt about it, you beam in an unnecessarily assertive tone.
An awkward silence follows, but you see it as an opportunity to elaborate.
Tim Moltzens been ruled out. They wont cut the mustard in attack without him there. Dont you reckon, girls? There, you think to yourself. How can they possibly refute that logic? Theyll have to agree and admit that your watertight argument will force them to change their picks, and you can take all the credit.
Nah, I still think Ill pick the Tigers. I like Tuqiri, hes yummy, one of the girls responds. You respond with an obnoxious, condescending laugh.
Fair dinkum, youre hopeless. Youll have no chance of winning the tipping this year! You take your coffee and stride out of the room, satisfied that nobody was able to even make a slight dent in your logic for your undoubted tipping genius.
By the time it gets to Friday night, youre feeling good. That lovely warm feeling you get when you know the week is done, and its time to settle into some footy, is hard to top. Beer is in hand, chips are in the bowl. The previews come and go, and the teams emerge from the tunnels.
A wry smile crosses your lips as Peter Sterling points out that the absence of Tim Moltzen will stunt the Tigers attacking potency.
Then the whistle blows, and the Tigers kick off. Ben Hannant takes the ball and runs it back into a pumped, ferocious Wests Tigers defensive line.
Thats the moment when you get the vibe.
A horrible, sobering wave of realisation hits you. Even though youve only watched a few seconds of play, and the scores are level, you just know.
You realise youve picked the wrong team.
By half time, the Tigers are leading 12-8 and you still have hope. By full time, the scoreline reads 38-8.
Lote Tuqiri scores a hat-trick and you want to die as you watch his hairy mug on the box accepting the man-of-the-match award.
The moral of the story is: youre not alone. Thousands of us get that same, horrible sinking feeling on Friday nights all over the country.
After having to stomach the sheer humiliation of the ditzy girl in marketing being awarded bonus points for picking the full round when you only got 3/8, you find yourself studying the team lists on Tuesday night, wondering how you will catch up and get your revenge. And then you spot it: Yes. Thats the key factor. Team X is going to lose because of it.
And thus, the glorious cycle starts all over again.
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747 words. Liftoff!