2013 Round 4 :: Saints vs Souths

[Monk]

vs

Game Thread:
* This is a game thread only. Only game posts can be made here - team lists, substitutions, and articles.
* Any other posts may result in loss of points and is at the discretion of the referee.
* Only original articles, not used in previous games, will be marked by referees.

Naming Teams:
* 5 -V- 5 (+ 3 reseves for home side; +2 for away)
* No 'TBA' or changing players named
* Captains must stick with original teams named

Rules: http://f7s.leagueunlimited.com/rules.php
Official Word Counter: http://f7s.leagueunlimited.com/wordcount.php

Kick Off: Sunday 7th of July 2013 (6:00pm AEST)
Full Time: Monday 22nd of July 2013 (9:00pm AEST)
Referee: LeagueNut
Venue: WIN Stadium

 

[Monk]

South team to take on the traitorous SGL in the GF rematch.

Souffs
byrne_rovelli_fan82
Marshall Magic
Bubbles
Horrie is God
soc123_au

Bench:
Monk (c)
Tommy Smith

 

[Scott Gourley's Lovechild]

Here is the mighty St George team to take on Monk and his pack of girlie-boys (and girls):

1. Tanner Ave
2. Godz Illa
3. Hutty1986
4. Slippery Morris
5. DB

Res.

6. SGL (c)
7. whall15
8. Elias1983

This is also DB's debut for St George, looking forward to a cracker article mate!

 

[Godz Illa]

Godz Illa ~ Dragons


Sophie’s Choice

It’s the afternoon of Monday, July 22nd, and I’m firmly in the grip of an existential crisis. Sweating in the middle of winter. My colleagues are grateful that I chose a high-quality deodorant spray, as I furiously bash away at my keyboard typing this article, pretending to do actual work. But who can work in such a state, I ask you? Every neuron of my brain is fixated on the dilemma before me – work is thusly a mere triviality. Plus it’s Monday and I’ve had a big weekend. Also: laziness. Let us, however, focus on the aforementioned crisis.

In the novel Sophie’s Choice, the titular character’s life is forever haunted by a cruel choice forced upon her by a sadistic Nazi: choose one child to be gassed, and one to survive. Either outcome of the choice were unimaginable horrors, despite the fact it meant a guaranteed Academy Award for Meryl Streep. The phrase has now passed into idiom, and nowadays, while the consequences are thankfully rarely quite as brutal as the original example, none of us are winning Oscars for our trouble either. My own Sophie’s Choice involves the necessity to choose between two options I love as much almost as much as a mother loves her children: my football team, and cash. Specifically, the Dragons and potential tipping comp prizemoney.

I never gamble. Not on rugby league, not on racing, not on pokies, not on anything. I don’t buy lotto tickets. When McDonald’s put those little ‘Monopoly’ prize things on their chips and drinks, I don’t even bother to peel them off, foregoing countless free cheeseburgers. Tipping competitions are my only gambling vice. I’ve always entered them, and, at the risk of tooting my own horn, I’ve had consistently high levels of success. Last year I won the thing. I research thoroughly and apply reasoned analysis to each game - except Dragons games. In those I tip Saints immediately.

I’ve known, loved and lived the Red V from the day I was old enough to shit solids (and they have been shitting me ever since). There have been some absolutely glorious times - insert the obligatory 2010 reference right here OH YEAHHHHH – and some not so glorious times (hello 2013). Through it all my philosophy has always been that you earn the right to enjoy the good times by sticking solid through the shit times (see above). Days like the 61-0 Manly massacre in 94, the 70-10 Melbourne massacre, and other massacres involving teams that don’t begin with M. Apathy is easy. You prove your worth as a supporter when it’s hard. Therefore, this year I have revelled in attending games, wearing my jersey in public, and of course, blindly tipping Saints every single motherfkn week.

This tipping strategy has not been overly harmful to my tipping success in the office comp. It hasn’t helped of course, but it could be worse - I could support Parra. God bless Parra. As the leaderboard stood before round 19, I was in equal third place, just 6 gettable points away from the outright leader. When Friday arrived, I procrastinated a number of key work tasks in order to devote appropriate time to NRL tipping analysis. Setting priorities is the key to effective time management. Some matches required more thought than others, with the tricky ones being Penrith-Newcastle, and Wests-Warriors. I chose the away team in both, home in the others. Oh, and Saints.

Perceptive readers will note that the above selections give me 5 from 5. One tip away from the holy grail of tipping: a perfect round. As with many tipping comps, our office attaches an additional 2 points for a perfect round. Making this carrot especially juicy for me this week is the fact that no-one else in the 20-strong comp tipped the Warriors. I’m poised for a significant surge at the frontrunner. All that lies ahead are the runaway NRL leaders and the bumbling 15th placed spoon-contenders.

The tipping comp offers the luxury of changing tips mid-round, so I have until just before kick-off tonight. Inglis out. Saints named their strongest side of the year. Matt Cooper has miraculously recovered from his debilitating toe injury. THE DUGE is in! Chase Stanley isn’t playing five-eighth!

The choice is this: stupidity v greed. Since I plan on making the trip out to ANZ to sit in the freezing cold on a school night, I think we all know which option I’ll go with. I am an idiot.

 

[Slippery Morris]

Slippery Morris
St George Dragons

746 Words

Best Day Ever


3:00am – Clock radio goes off. As I get out of bed and head out I stub my toe on the door. I get in the shower and there is no hot water. A cold shower in the middle of winter it is. I go down the stairs and wonder why is it so dark at 7am. Look at the time on the microwave and it shows 3:17am. I then look at the oven and it shows 3:17. What the? My son must have been playing with my clock radio again. Oh well time to watch some TV. I flick on the TV and then the Foxtel. What no reception? Damn it. Oh well I will watch what’s on free to air. All channels are scrambled except for 9 which is showing some infomercials. Damn it.

8:00am – Awake to screaming baby and some toast with jam stuck to my hair. Shit, I am going to be late for work. Run out to the car. Car won’t start. What the? Eventually get it going. Damn it.

8:45am – Get to work, it’s Saturday. I then realise I don’t work this Saturday. What a waste.

9:30am – Get back home to a ringing phone. It’s from overseas. Found out an Uncle who would always call me on my birthday has fallen ill. Not looking good. Damn it.

10:30 am – The Dog starts barking and going absolutely crazy. There is a cat in the yard. The Dog chases it and jumps the fence onto the road and is hit by a car. Oh no, looks like road kill. Kids come out to see but block their view. How do I get out of this? What do I tell them? Damn it.

1:30pm – Turn on the radio and get an update on the footy teams for tonight. My beloved Dragons have lost another player to injury. That makes 6 players out and they need this win to make the 8 as we are in round 26 and the team above them lost the night before. Damn it.

3:30pm – I go for a lie down and get a knock on the door. It’s the lonely old man from next door. The poor old fella needs some company so he decided to come over for a chat. 2 hours of listening to old war stories. The same ones I heard last week and the weeks before. I am actually finishing off his sentences. Damn it.

5:30pm – Get a call on the mobile. It’s my mate offering me a spare ticket to the footy. Should I go? Why not? Feel absolutely drained but why not. Get out the replica jersey but it has this strange smell. I knew I should have put it in the wash. Damn it.

5:45pm – In the car on the way to the game. As I am driving I decide to stop for a coffee to wake me up a bit. As I drive out with my coffee I go over a speed hump and spill the coffee over my pants. Damn it.

6:30pm – Get to the game and meet with my mate. We get to our chairs and the seats are broken. Damn it.

8:20pm – Half time and the Dragons are down 24-0. Not looking good. Go to the bar to buy some beers to drown my sorrows. Order a few beers and when I got to pay, the wallet is not there. It seems to have fallen out of my pocket. Looked everywhere for it but nowhere to be seen. Damn it.

8:35pm – the 2nd half starts. Saints score the first try and convert. 24-6. Five minutes later they score again. The game is now entering the final 2 minutes and the Dragons are down 24-22. The opposition are close to the line and inches from scoring but the drop the ball. Brett Morris picks it up and races 98 meters to score between the posts and the Saints win. How good is that my mate tells me. I reply, “mate this has been the best day in my life”. It’s the greatest game that I have ever witnessed my team play. It seems like all that has happened from 3am is now a distant memory.

That is the type of impact a game can have to a person’s mood no matter what type of day they have. When your team wins or loses your mood just changes. It’s more powerful than any drug on this planet.

 

[DB]

DB
Dragons
675 Words

Fledgeman’s Last Stand

This may or may not be based on a true story… Actually I have no idea if it is.

Rugby League over the past 36 years had changed. Archie Sandover, who took over the reigns of Nathan Tinkler who suffered an unfortunate buffet eating accident, was tired of his Newcastle Knights side not dominating like what he had planned when taking over the side. He had decided to set up his own rebel league, much like the Super League war of ’97. To escape any legal ramifications, he called the league ‘Incredible League’, and brought in 12 new franchises:

Bong Bong Bilbys
Bonnyrigg Bandicoots
Humpybong Hyenas
Jimcumbilly Jags
Mount Buggery Mounties
Poowong Pandas
Queanbeyan United
Rooty Hill Rhinos
Smiggin Holes Skiers
Uki Underdogs
Xantippe Xenas
Zeehan Zohans

This is the story of the Bonnyrigg Bandicoots, and one fateful contract renewal session.

It is the time that Hank Fledgeman, Coach of the Bonnyrigg Bandicoots dreaded. It was contract renewal time for the players. His side, the Bandicoots had been completely dominate in past seasons, winning two grand finals, and making the final series 7 years in a row, but had fail to made the finals for the last 6 seasons. With a squad age average of 37.6, Hank saw it as an opportunity to blood new players. Unfortunately his board, the hierarchy thought otherwise. They knew that these players ‘had it in them, and could turn their form slump upside down, and around.’ Hank knew he had some work to do the turn the board in his favour.

The board room meeting started with the re-signing of former NSW and Australia fullback Sean Geiger. Hank actually didn’t mind him. He was safe under the high ball, and could sniff a try or two.
“We want to sign Sean to a 5 year deal.” One board member exclaimed.
“Actually, I’d prefer it if we signed Jake Asche. He is young and has all the hallmarks to be a great fullback.” Hank replied.
“He is young, stupid and only stands at 4”6. No way are we signing him.” This board member rebutted. The board got their way.

“We want to sign Halfback Caleb Mirams.” Said the board.
Caleb, due very much to a comedy of Steven Bradbury like errors ended up being a replacement half for the Australia Bushpigs tour of Mozambique. He was only picked due to every other halfback in the country being injured or in jail.
“I’d like us to re-sign Jasper Brisbane. He is young granted, but has the flair, and spontaneity that you need in a halfback.”
The board quickly denied this request and it seemed Hank was fighting a losing battle.

It got to the final player contract renewal, a choice of the backrowers between the record appearance holder in Aidan Rimmer, a 35 year old former Country, NSW and Australian representative, or between Adam Cohen, a 21 year old exquisite specimen of a man, (much similar Brad Pitt in ‘Troy’) who if released by the Bandicoots, has every other team chasing his signature.
“We are chasing Aidan for a 20 year contract to secure our future.”
At this thought of 20 years, Hank had to use his entire Calvary.
“I really feel Adam Cohen is our future. A player like that you can build an entire team around.”
“No we like to go on experience.”
‘Clearly,’ thought Hank. ‘It’s time for the big guns.’
“Now listen here.” Hank started. “I’ve asked Jake Asche, I’ve asked for Jasper Brisbane, and both have been rejected and I have not let out a peep. Can I have at least one bloody player in the side that I want?”

And with that, Hank got his future star player, and as they say, the rest is history.

Adam Cohen went on to have the most career appearances as Captain of the Bandicoots, and won Sexiest Man in League for 6 years on the trot.

Aidan Rimmer took the rejection pretty hard and ended up living on the streets, drinking out of date milk ala Ron Burgundy.

 

[soc123_au]

soc123_au for Souffs

State of Origin is not dead

The history books will forever record the 17th of July 2013 as the day that Queensland won the State of Origin series for a record eighth time in a row. As a NSW supporter it is a bitter pill to swallow. We all remember Gordon Tallis, the fearsome QLD second rower declare “State of Origin is dead” after a brief period of NSW success in the year 2000. Imagine how the Raging Bull would react were he a New South Welshman in 2013. Fortunately we Blues are made of sterner stuff than that.

When the siren sounded at full time in Game Three 2013, the Blues players collapsed as one. The pain and anguish on the face of every man was palpable. These men had given everything they had to try and secure victory for NSW but they had fallen short. The reason they fell wasn’t lack of effort or caring. For the entire eighty minutes each man threw everything they had at QLD, the thought of pain and injury was of no concern. The only thing on their minds was to stem the Maroon tide. I assure you, my friends, State of Origin is not dead.

Mitchell Pearce, the much maligned NSW halfback let the tears flow. As a fan I have been very critical of his selection in the team. In the newspapers, social media and in pubs and clubs around the country many have voiced similar criticisms. One thing that can’t be criticised is Pearce’s effort. As the television cameras beamed images of his tear filled eyes across the world, you could see in those eyes a man who had given everything he had. Sometimes we forget that this bloke did not name himself in the team; he was asked to do a job and he did it to the best of his ability. A part of me hopes that when the time comes for NSW to claim back the trophy that Pearce is somehow a part of the team that wins it back. State of Origin is not dead.

We saw this year a few of the younger brigade make their mark on the game’s biggest stage. Some of these young forwards ripped into the Maroons with every ounce of strength and enthusiasm their young bodies could muster. Another year plying their trade in the world’s toughest competition will only see them better and stronger next year. With the bitter taste of defeat still fresh on their lips, they will be keen to repay the Queenslanders with interest in 2014. State of Origin is not dead.

NSW also had some fantastic players that missed games in this year’s series due to injury, suspension or omission. It is fair to think most of these men will get their chance to shine again in 2014. Players like Jarryd Hayne, Tim Grant, Blake Furgeson and Todd Carney will be burning with anticipation to tear into the Maroons next year; another year for the hate to fester, planning on how best do their part in bringing the trophy back to NSWRL headquarters. State of Origin is not dead.

The fans also will play their role. The sea of blue at ANZ stadium will be there again next year, most likely bigger and louder than ever before. In the pubs and clubs they will watch and cheer. In lounge rooms across NSW the TV’s will be tuned in. The anticipation for the 2014 series has already begun. Before the players from this year’s final game had left the field, discussions were springing up all over NSW and on the internet on what NSW had to do next year. Discussions on everything from whether the coaching staff should be retained, which players should hold their positions and replacements for those deemed to have had their time were taking place. The only thing not worthy of discussion was the thought of nine straight. That is just unthinkable. State of Origin is not dead.

The only place State of Origin will ever die is in Queensland. In NSW the passion will never die. No amount of effort from Mal Meninga, Cameron Smith, Johnathan Thurston or even Bob Fulton will change that. State of Origin is not dead.

 

[Monk]

Monk posting Bubbles' article via proxy because her computer couldn't handle such an awesome article.

739 Words.

++++++++++++++++

Pearcing the Veil

I’m going to start with a disclaimer, for if ever such pre-emptive repudiation needs to be made prior to one opening one’s mouth, or inking one’s quill as the case may be, it is now. I believe, as the vocal majority do, that Mitchell Pearce has been given more than enough chances at representative level and has failed to make the necessary leap from club level to be a success on the big stage that is Origin. I too suffered the loss on Wednesday night past with renewed pain, laced as it was with a certainty, shared by all New South Wales’ fans, that with a decent Halfback we could have, should have and would have taken the Queenslanders this series. I felt the hair-pulling frustration as our forwards charged up the field, creating space and time through sheer determination, aggression and bulk, only to have chance after chance squandered by poor kicks and dismal fifth tackle options. So for clarity’s sake, I am very much pro the movement against Mitchell returning to the helm of the Blues come 2014, in fact, I have my banner prepared and I’m ready to march!

However, this article is not going to be dedicated to kicking the young halfback in the testicles whilst on the ground, enough having already joined in this popular new pastime. Again, I understand the frustration, the disappointment and the anger Blues’ fans feel, but for me, I just can’t quite allow myself to forget that this is a human being that is being ‘discussed’ on forums, around water coolers at work and down at the local over a schooner of beer.

The criticism, while in the main deserved, has been delivered with an extraordinary level of vitriol that it has left me cringing and cold. I have heard it say that Pearce has no heart, evidenced by the fact he hasn’t won a series for NSW, whereas for any want in playmaking ability Mitchell may have, a lack of heart and effort should not be on the table as a target for attack. Some rejoiced at the tears the number 7 shed at the conclusion of yet another lost series, whilst all I saw was a real competitor with heart and passion for his State, shattered by the result.

I don’t participate in discussion on the forums here, having recognised that I have neither the stomach nor the personality for online debate, coming as I do from a generation where the main form of communication, face to face, left very little room to hide and cause and effect had immediate consequences. While I enjoy reading intelligent and knowledgeable discussion on League topics, I find myself wading through a myriad of personal insults, talk of ‘sand in vaginas’ (a lot!) and other such crap to get to it and no more so than since Origin and no more so than what’s been directed towards Pearce.

What I will say in defence of Pearce, which of course has nought to do with his Origin performances, is that one only has look at how he came out last weekend for the Roosters, to recognise that a lot of the spite and hate is unfounded and undeserved. Many players would have crawled away from Wednesday’s result (served atop a steaming pile of previous Origin results) like a wounded animal. Many players would not have been able escape from what I’m sure would be a coagulated mess of self-recriminations and ‘what ifs’ that would have been cramming Mitchell’s cranium, to put in a man of the match performance as he did. Of course the Sharks were a depleted outfit who served up their own steaming pile, however this does not take away from the character of a player, of a man, to pick himself from the floor, to venture into the most public of arenas and to take a game by the scruff of the neck and shake.

Again, I do not believe that Mitchell has the necessary talent to rise to take Origin supremacy, however, he is a person, a player with character, passion, drive and a love of the game that we all love. Thus, it would be nice to see the personal attacks and vitriol removed from criticism, especially considering the number of players whom I find a lot more odious in character running around, who because of their superior talent, are given far less stick.

 

[byrne_rovelli_fan82]

byrne_rovelli_fan82 for the Rabbitohs slips in pre-holiday trip!

~~

I hate long goodbyes…on second thought good riddance!

One of the most pleasing aspects to Friday Night’s game between Wests Tigers and New Zealand Warriors was the support fans showed for Benji Marshall. After many years in Tigers’ stripes it was revealed recently Marshall would end his tenure with them and would be leaving rugby league for good. While it is a pity to see a man of great talent leave the game, it is just as important for the fans of League, not only fans of the Tigers, to show him support. Of course they will miss him, just as everyone in Rugby League will, as he’s given the fans so many great highlights over so many years of service in the game, but the time has come for Benji to explore and spread his wings. What more does the man need to achieve in League? He’s secured himself an NRL Championship and a Rugby League World Cup. Sure, other medals and awards would no doubt round it out nicely, but it’s not always about accumulating awards and filling trophy cabinets.

League fans typically have an abysmal attitude whenever players leave one club to go to another, when they misbehave, or when they decide to leave the game for good. As soon as a player does brilliantly for one club then every fan of that club loves him and he can’t put a foot wrong. Then, when he does something wrong or makes the decision to move on, this same player who has been praised and protected previously, suddenly becomes ‘public enemy number uno’, something Rugby Union’s Quade Cooper knows all too well!
Gareth Widdop was an example of one who copped a lot of criticism by Storm fans when it became known he too was leaving to play for another club. The ill feelings were ignited at the following home game after the announcement was made and soon the knives were out condemning everything he did on the field, whether warranted or not.

Is it any wonder why Rugby League and its fans are always frowned upon by society? Take a look at the reactions these fans have whenever something hits the headlines. They head out in force and tear players and teams apart for no apparent reason and often with no or little evidence of any wrongdoing outside of media speculation and gossip mongering. Players don’t deserve such hostility, especially when you strip them of what they are. There stands before you a non-super star, simply a man playing a great sport, putting aside all the commercialisation and media frenzy. Underneath all that glitz and glamour is a person who is not so different to others and a man, just as typical as the rest!

Fact of the matter is, like all of us, the players do need change in their lives. Moving cities, clubs can be a blessing for them and for the clubs. New fresh faces and talent will invariably fill the hole at the old club and will take their place, while the players moving on get a new lease of lives themselves, so it would appear to be a win-win situation.

So just because a favourite player decides the grass is greener on the other side, this does not mean he’s taken anything for granted, nor does it mean he’s throwing the towel in the faces of the fans; hardly. Just as a fine wine ripens and matures with time, league players’ are finding life is a lot bigger than running around with a ball tucked under their wing and are finding themselves making business decisions that have consequences not only to themselves, but on their families also as they age right along with the fine wine.

Hopefully other fans from around the League show their support and respect for Benji, both of which he has earned over the years. Let him know you care and that you appreciate what he’s given you, as a fan, despite what magic he’s weaved against your club in the past to bring it undone. After all, a true magician is about to take his final flick pass/step/stupendous moment for the final time. For goodness sake, make sure you’re not atop a high horse, so that you don’t miss it.

~~~

713 words between the lines according to my microsoft word counter, official word counter link didn't work!!

 

[Tanner Ave]

Tanner proud as always to wear the jersey for Saints.

The fight of my life

I Should have done something before this. I had noticed that I couldn’t get my full breath back for a while, normally, I am ok at this point, but this exact situation taxed me a few moments earlier, normally I would never end up in this position, now twice in 10 minutes. However right now I cant think of anything but the steps that could have been taken to prevent this situation. Actually I lie, I can think of heaps of things, I feel like I’m in the Matrix and everything just seem to be in place, everything is in slow motion. I have time to think about my kids, my family, and my eyes that seem to be out side of my body, this really isn’t so bad. I’m angry as hell though.

With my Eyes that are not in my body looking at my red face, a face that somehow is able to show, pain, fear, anger and desperation all in the same frame, a frame that seem stuck in slow motion. How long has this been going on for? It feels like an eternity but I am sure only a short few seconds.

Instantly like the roar after the gun of an Olympic 100meter final, the noise of my surroundings fills my head. My eyes were back where they should be but they were more help back out there looking in. I was in a fight and my life depended on it, I needed every single advantage that I could gain over my unseen opponent. Eyes out side of my body would have been an advantage for sure, but they are in my head and time is now going on double speed. Kids, family who gives a crap about that right now? There is only one thing that I need one thing that is consuming my desires and that is air. I need it and I need it bad. I just can’t think, the noise from out side my brain is bad, but the screams from with in are even worse. I can’t think.

With a thud onto my back the pressure on my throat relents just that little bit, maybe a millimeter? Maybe less? But it was more than enough to give my bare and desperate lungs just a glimmer of hope. Hope that they will have the drug that they are so addicted to soon if they can just hang in there.

Like an addict with an injection in hand, waiting those last few moments before the hit, my body started to shake. I wanted to do something about this situation but I was done! No amount of preseason training could prepare me for this. In fact I laugh at the sand dues right now, they have nothing on the instrument used to steal my air today.

My head is placed in a vice like grip that is the ground and my unseen oppressors hand, but this pain is quickly forgotten as the joy of air fills my lugs. The source of life, this one thing taken for granted by so many so often, well not me, never again. Sweat air will always have my respect.

As my new passion fills my lungs and in tern fills my veins, my muscles begin to be resuscitated, my lungs draw this wonderful air deep, and they go for another breath, YES success. I have been given the gift of life back. But as I begin to think on the joys of life, I start to think of the oppressive force that tried to take it from me, my joy quickly turns in to that remembered anger that I felt when this trauma began.

I place the ball on the ground more out of habit than need and step over it. I look to the arm of death, the instrument used to violently stop my airflow. Muscular right arm, this right arm attached to the shoulder of some grub of a player. My right fist clenched and my heart begins to race twice that of when I couldn’t breath.

With out looking I grab the grubs jersey with my left arm and drop my right shoulder ready to deliver my best UFC over head punch, until I see that it is Cam Smith yet again, I quickly remember that he is allowed to tackle whatever part of the body he likes.


---------

738 words including the title

 

[Marshall_magic]

Marshall for Souths

745 words (MS Word as the OWC wasn't loading for me)

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

[FONT=&quot]This Is How It Ends[/FONT]​

[FONT=&quot]In 1994 Mal Meninga ended his playing career with a premiership after his Raiders blew the Bulldogs off the field. In 2004 Brad Fittler’s career ended in heartache when his Roosters were edged out by a Bulldogs side in the decider. In 2007 Andrew Johns had his career cut a little short by a neck injury; after his Knights were flogged in his last ever game by the Raiders early in the season. In 2011 Darren Lockyer’s career ended after he slotted a golden point field goal against the Dragons in a semi final with a broken cheekbone that would rule him out of the following weeks preliminary final, a game the Broncos would lose to Manly.[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]Fast forward to 2013, where Benji Marshall who is just as marketable and important to his club brings down the curtain on his NRL career. A career with an ending no Hollywood producer would want to make a movie about. There is no grand final, or even a finals game and there is certainly no injury. No, the story ends with Benji handing in a written request to leave the club. This request is made whilst the guy has two years left to run on a contract, because he doesn’t feel like the club wants him anymore, and after a whole lot of confusion arose after a change in management. Lost? Don’t worry, it really is that confusing.[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]What is not confusing is just how important the man was to the club. He debuted at 17, was a superstar at 18 and a key player in a grand final winning side at 19, a side that won the premiership despite starting the season at $151 to do so, roughly triple what the Panthers (wooden spoon favourites) started this season at. Over a career spanning 11 seasons, almost 200 games and 4 shoulder reconstructions, he has gone from a child prodigy, to become one of the most marketable players in recent memory, winning a world cup with the kiwis, captaining four nations win and being named the best player in the world in 2010. Sure you can talk about the bad in his game, but the man has a rugby league resume that 99% of players past and present would dream of having, and he is still the right side of 30.[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]More specifically, when Benji Marshall debuted, the Tigers were a walking punch line, no player with aspirations of winning a game would want to go there, and no one would have even dreamed of them making it out of the bottom four. Sure there has been players who had come to the club over the course of his career who may have contributed more on the field, the likes of Robbie Farah, Gareth Ellis and Brett Hodgson immediately spring to mind, but would any of them have the same appeal and pulling power with the fans that Benji does.[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]The flaws in his game that he never managed to get out of there are always a target of his detractors, many feeling they make him average, overrated or just plain hopeless, but if he reigns his game in he becomes another generic five-eighth, except for the fact that he has a bit of extra pace and a cool side step. On Friday night pregame where Benji’s career was a point of discussion, two of the all time great had their say, “Benji has been the most entertaining five-eighth the NRL has ever had,” Brad Fittler told us, “...he has had a massive impact.” The king had a similar take on things “Ask any young kid in the backyard...it’s always the Benji Marshall skills the youngsters are trying to perform.” A big endorsement from two legends of his position.[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]So despite the fact a legend of the game gets a mellow ending to his career (barring a resurgence reminiscent of the Tigers of 2005, led by, ironically, Benji Marshall), one can not underestimate the importance of his career to the club. September 7 2013, 1300 Smiles Stadium will be the final appearance of the most important player to ever put on a Wests Tigers jersey, against a team the club defeated in the most important game of the clubs lifespan, that is remembered by a moment when Benji lit the Rugby League world up with a dazzling flick pass. Win, lose or draw this will be a memorable game for the Wests Tigers.[/FONT]


----------

 

[Hutty1986]

Hutty sneaks in for a late charge for the Dragons...

Gotta have faith​

It ain’t easy being a New South Wales supporter.

The last time the poor old Blues won a State Of Origin series, Welcome Back Kotter was the most popular show on television and everyone thought ‘geez, that young John Travolta’s a good actor.’ Okay, maybe it wasn’t that long ago but it sure feels like it.

Every year we make like Jack Johnson and start sittin,’ waitin,’ wishin’ for that series win that we’ve been missin.’ It’s been eight long years; eight years of Queensland fans’ arrogance reaching unprecedented new levels, eight years of hopes being dashed and a genuine fear that the maroons really could make it 10 in a row. I couldn’t make it to the decider in Sydney last week, but I felt sorry for those 80,000-plus fans that did. Getting teeth pulled is both more enjoyable and more beneficial than watching Mitchell Pearce’s humourous attempts at ‘play-making.’ Put simply, Pearce couldn’t organise a root in a brothel with a cool million in cash in his pocket.

Last Wednesday’s result was crushing. Truly crushing especially for someone like me, who bleeds sky blue and hates those Queenslanders with more passion than a can of Passiona. But I guess in times like this, it’s good to have a little bit of perspective. This isn’t just a good Queensland side; it could be the greatest Rugby League outfit ever assembled. You give those banjo-strummers an inch, and they’ll take a hectare. Offensively magnificent, defensively near-impenetrable. The way they embrace the one-percenters, you’d think they were a team of Hell’s Angels. Billy “I’ll be here if you kneed me” Slater, Jonathon “more dummies than a First-Aid course” Thurston, Cameron “H&R Block” Smith…the list goes on and on.

For those casual Origin viewers, it’s simply a matter of sitting and applauding the skills and composure of these blokes in the dirty red. Meanwhile, for Blues fans, it’s a matter of watching, drinking heavily and swearing frequently at the skills and composure of the filthy merkins in the filthy red.
So, eight straight. Eight consecutive SOO series wins after the previous record streak was just three. How do ‘New South Fails’ recover from yet another loss?

The first statistic that stands out is the aggregate score from the three games this year: Queensland 44, NSW 30. Even in a fairly low-scoring series, the Blues’ efforts to get across the stripe were ‘derplorable.’ While it’s hard to admit it, I’ll say it-the Blues had everything go their way in the decider. An 8-2 penalty count, a massive home crowd and a wet track to help nullify the speed of the maroon backline. After seven years of tears, the stage was set for the trophy to finally head back south. Unfortunately, M. Pearce and his band of incompetents didn’t get that memo. When push came to shove, Cooper Cronk put Justin Hodges over from short range with a beautifully-timed pass and the home side weren’t able to muster two tries in the final 10 minutes.

So we go back to the drawing board to try and get the job done in 12 months’ time. Surely the time to ditch Mitchell Pearce has come. There’s no doubting, his inside balls to second-rowers for a five-metre gain are impressive and his long-kicking accuracy is amazing. How he picks out the Qld back three time after time must take a hell of a lot of practice. Adam Reynolds must be the man for the job. Sure, he’s greener than a Raiders home game, but he has what it takes-he can build pressure with his short kicking game, he can maintain ascendency with his longer kicks. NSW fans are sick to death of losing close Origin games. Get someone in there who can manufacture points against the best defence in the business. Our forwards can do the job, we need the halves to start pulling the strings and stop pulling other things.

2014 presents an even greater challenge than this year. Two games in Queensland, at a venue where the Blues haven’t won a ‘live’ game since that famous 2005 decider. Many have written the side off already, claiming we simply cannot win at Suncorp. And you know what, I’m not sure we can. But that won’t stop me watching each and every game next year and praying my boys can bring that shield home. Every year it hurts more; but it’ll sure be sweet when we finally end the streak.

Here’s hoping.

750 words (including title) using Official Word Counter

 

[Monk]

On: Monk (c)
Off: Horrie is God

Monk swoops in steal the lasts hit up from Horrie!

 

[Monk]

Benefits of the Oval Office

Brace yourselves, seriously. Sit your oversized, round, rose-coloured buttocks down on that chair into its familiar groove. I don’t want to over hype my article or anything like that. But I’d like to say this might just be one of the most important things ever written by anyone in the entire world. Is it better than Romeo and Juliet? I’ll say yes. Is it more important than the Declaration of Independence? You know what? I’ll throw a tick in that column too. This is the sort of thing that creates cities and inspires love songs.

Have you ever been to an AFL game and thought to yourself. “Damn, this field is quite large. What a shame it’s wasted on such a pansy of a sport”?

If the answer to that question was yes, please stop reading this article. Seriously, what the hell were you doing at an AFL game? As if the competition between our beloved NRL and that drop-fest wasn’t strong enough! You’re now donating money and paying to see what you can see for free if you head down to the Saints locker room! Ridiculous! Although if you were chasing a hot piece of ass which for some reason liked AFL I’ll let it slide.

Okay, back on topic. I’ve seen some awesome games of Rugby League played at the SCG and the first thing anyone ever notices is the stupid way they have to section off the field so that it looks somewhat rectangle-ish. All that gorgeous grass has gone to waste and it just isn’t fair. Why does the grass have to pay the price because our game is played on a rectangle playing field? The only football the grass gets is the horrible singlet-wearing pansy kind, isn’t that the worst life imaginable?

I’ve managed to find a diary entry of one of the blades of grass on the outskirts of the SCG and I’d like you to read it and try not to cry.

“Dear Diary,

I know I don’t have any hands, but even still, the pain of never being involved in a game of my beloved Rugby League pains me every single day. I touched Adam Goodes’ butt the other day... It was horrible. I hear everyone over at Allianz saying how they got to experience the glory that was Hindy’s backside and I just break down into tears. If only Rugby League was played on an oval playing surface. I would be the happiest blade of grass in the world.

Yours Truly,
Grassy the blade of grass.”

Stirring right? If your eyes aren’t doing their best waterfall impression right now then I think your heart might just be made of stone.

We have to be the worst people in the world. Blades of grass just like Grassy are being subjected to horrible living conditions just because they’re located on the outer areas of the SCG. Something must be done!

I’m not saying we make playing Rugby League on an oval surface a permanent thing, but we can’t simply let our good friends the blades of grass go on living like this. Imagine if your day went a little something like this:

- Wake up.
- Realise you are a blade of grass.
- Have someone bounce a red dumb looking ball on top of you.
- Touch Adam’s ‘Goods’.
- Remain a blade of grass.

I can’t imagine that kind of horror, no one should have to.

Of course, this wouldn’t be much of an article if I didn’t propose any sort of diagrams of the possible solution. I hired the greatest photo editor in the world to put something together; this is what life could be like for our friend Grassy if we put in a little extra work. Perhaps the All Stars game or a lower grade game could test it out?

As a human, I believe this has to be done not just for Grassy, but for blades of grass everywhere. The majority of their entire population go their entire lives without tasting the glory of a Steeden knocking them to the dirt. If we can do just this little bit extra to improve the lives of a few, isn’t that a step in the right direction for mankind as a whole?

Now that I think about it, what about all the footy boots which never experience the awesome touch of a Steeden? SOMETHING MUST BE DONE!

 

[Scott Gourley's Lovechild]

Proxy for Hutty1986

Same sh*t, different year
It ain’t easy being a New South Wales supporter.

The last time the poor old Blues won a State Of Origin series, Welcome Back Kotter was the most popular show on television and everyone thought ‘geez, that young John Travolta’s a good actor.’ Okay, maybe it wasn’t that long ago but it sure feels like it.

Every year we make like Jack Johnson and start sittin,’ waitin,’ wishin’ for that series win that we’ve been missin.’ It’s been eight long years; eight years of Queensland fans’ arrogance reaching unprecedented new levels, eight years of hopes being dashed and a genuine fear that the maroons really could make it 10 in a row. I couldn’t make it to the decider in Sydney last week, but I felt sorry for those 80,000-plus fans that did. Getting teeth pulled is both more enjoyable and more beneficial than watching Mitchell Pearce’s humourous attempts at ‘play-making.’ Put simply, Pearce couldn’t organise a root in a brothel with a cool million in cash in his pocket.

Last Wednesday’s result was crushing. Truly crushing especially for someone like me, who bleeds sky blue and hates those Queenslanders with more passion than a can of Passiona. But I guess in times like this, it’s good to have a little bit of perspective. This isn’t just a good Queensland side; it could be the greatest Rugby League outfit ever assembled. You give those banjo-strummers an inch, and they’ll take a hectare. Offensively magnificent, defensively near-impenetrable. The way they embrace the one-percenters, you’d think they were a team of Hell’s Angels. Billy “I’ll be here if you kneed me” Slater, Jonathon “more dummies than a First-Aid course” Thurston, Cameron “H&R Block” Smith…the list just goes on and on.

For those casual Origin viewers, it’s just simply a matter of sitting and applauding the skills and composure of these blokes in the dirty red. On the flipside, it’s just a matter of watching, drinking heavily and swearing frequently at the skills and composure of the filthy merkins in the filthy red.
So, eight straight. Eight consecutive SOO series wins after the previous record streak was just three. How do ‘New South Fails’ recover from yet another loss?

The first statistic that stands out is the aggregate score from the three games this year: Queensland 44, NSW 30. Even in a fairly low-scoring series, the Blues’ efforts to get across the stripe were ‘derplorable.’ While it’s hard to admit it, I’ll say it-the Blues had everything go their way in the decider. An 8-2 penalty count, a massive home crowd and a wet track to help nullify the speed of the maroon backline. After seven years of tears, the stage was set for the trophy to finally head back south. Unfortunately, M. Pearce and his band of incompetents didn’t get that memo. When push came to shove, Cooper Cronk put Justin Hodges over from short range with a beautifully-timed pass and the home side weren’t able to muster two tries in the final 10 minutes.

So we go back to the drawing board to try and get the job done in 12 months’ time. Surely the time to ditch Mitchell Pearce has come. There’s no doubting, his inside balls to second-rowers for a five-metre gain are impressive and his long-kicking accuracy is amazing. How he picks out the Qld back three time after time must take a hell of a lot of practice. Adam Reynolds must be the man for the job. Sure, he’s greener than a Raiders home game, but he has what it takes-he can build pressure with his short kicking game, he can maintain ascendency with his longer kicks. NSW fans are sick to death of losing close Origin games. Get someone in there who can manufacture point against the best defence in the business. Our forwards can do the job, we need the halves to start pulling the strings and stop pulling other things.

2014 presents an even greater challenge than this year. Two games in Queensland, at a venue where the Blues haven’t won a ‘live’ game since that famous 2005 decider. Many have written the side off already, claiming we simply cannot win at Suncorp. And you know what, I’m not sure we can. But that won’t stop me watching each and every game next year and praying my boys in blue can bring that beautiful shield home. Every year it hurts more; but it’ll sure be sweet when we finally end the streak.

Here's hoping.

 

[Horrie Is God]

Not needed..

 

[Horrie Is God]

Above is 743 words according to the official word thingy..

 

[Monk]

And the Hooter Buzzes! That's FT.

 

[Monk]

Shii sorry for stealing the last spot Horrie mang!

Totes saving that article for next round though.

 

[Horrie Is God]

Shii sorry for stealing the last spot Horrie mang!

Totes saving that article for next round though.

All good mate..

It was a rush job that needs polishing anyways..