Preliminary Final (2005) Raiders Vs Lions

[roosterboy60]

[font=Times New Roman, Times, serif]Canberra Raiders v Sydney Lions[/font]

[font=Times New Roman, Times, serif]Game Thread
Please note - This is a game thread only, therefore only game posts can be made here (Teams, Articles).
Any other posts will result in loss of points and is at the discretion of the referee.
Only original essays, not used in previous games, will be marked by referees.[/font]

[font=Times New Roman, Times, serif]Both Teams will be allowed two reserves.
Rules: http://f7s.leagueunlimited.com/rules.asp[/font]

[font=Times New Roman, Times, serif]Full Time: Wednesday 28th September at 9pm (Syd time)[/font]

[font=Times New Roman, Times, serif]Venue: The Front Row Stadium

Crowd: 20,040
REFEREE: Gorilla[/font]



[font=Times New Roman, Times, serif]**Referee Blows Game On!**[/font]

 

[Raider_69]

RAIDERS TEAM:
Raider_69 (c)
Thickos
Greeneyed
Skeepe
I Bleed Green

Schifty
Paulquinn49

 

[greeneyed]

GE runs on for the Raiders...

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SACK THE COACH!

Parramatta coach, Brian Smith, has never won a NRL Premiership. But he coached Illawarra to their first semi-final appearance, took Hull to an English final in 1989, coached St George to consecutive Grand Finals in 1992-1993, and led Parramatta to the Grand Final in 2001. He won the Dally M coach of the year in 2001. And he coached the Eels to the NRL Minor Premiership in 2005.

St George Illawarra coach, Nathan Brown is a rookie coach by comparison. He did take the Dragons Jersey Flegg to the Minor Premiership and the Grand Final in 2002. And in 2005 he coached the Dragons NRL side to second on the table.

Earlier this year, things looked much bleaker. The Eels and the Dragons produced poor starts to the season.

Brian Smith has had many chances, bringing his clubs close to, but so far from, the ultimate glory. The prospect of another failed season was too much to bear for the Eels fans, starved of a Premiership since 1986.

Nathan Brown has had a rocky start to a top-line coaching career. And the Dragons fans, brought up on the successes of the past, have waited much longer. The last Grand Final win for the Dragons was in 1979. Since then – despite a number of appearances in the final decider – they have faltered at the last hurdle.

So early this year, the calls of “Sack the Coach!” from the Eels and Dragons fans – and the media – were long and loud. The early season criticism of Smith and Brown recently led Premiership winning coach, Phil Gould, to make this comment:

“Any coach experiencing a losing run can soon find himself the target of back-page headlines, gossip columns and talkback radio announcers. But the campaigns against these two were as sustained and vitriolic as any I have witnessed. As it turns out, the media were wrong… Many of these coaches get unfairly criticised by people... who themselves don't know the first thing about coaching.”

His thesis is that in today’s competition, a key injury or a dropped ball can make the difference between winning and losing. Between making the finals or not. Coaches shouldn’t be judged on win/loss ratios. Just because Ricky Stuart did not coach the Roosters to the semi finals this season, he shouldn’t be judged by that. He is not suddenly a bad coach, in the space of one season.

That sounds reasonable – and is reasonable – in many ways. But, ultimately, is it so unreasonable to judge people on their results? In the words of gridiron coach, Vince Lombardi: “If winning isn’t everything, why do they keep score?”

To put it another way, I'm a General Manager at my work. If things go well, I get the credit from clients and my bosses. If things don't go well, I cop the flack. Is it always fair? Possibly not. There are so many things that happen in my Division. I can't always be in control. Staff make mistakes, but I have to take responsibility in the end. Equally, I am sometimes fortunate. Talented staff can really produce and give my Division great results.

What is my role as a leader of the group? I put in place the systems so that the talented staff can shine. I put in place the systems that eliminate the unacceptable risks of things going wrong. I keep my attention on the things that are most critical and try to add value on those things. I try to attract the best people I can for my Division, and make the place somewhere people want to work. I try to coach my staff on the best things to do.

In the end, though, if the organisation fails, it is my neck on the line. I expect that. If we are successful, it is always a group effort. If there is failure, ultimately, the leader of the group has to take responsibility. I might be given some extra chances if I “won the Grand Final” two years ago. But that can’t last forever. This is the way of the world. It won't change.

So, it is the same in rugby league.

In 2005, Smith and Brown did not manage to get their teams, with two of the best playing rosters in the league, to the Grand Final. It's results that count. The coach is the leader of the group. And, at some stage, the buck will eventually stop right there.

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750 words including title

 

[thickos]

thickos hits the field in the biggest match in the Raiders' short F7's history, knowing one good performance will see the Green Machine through to the season decider...

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Losing My Religion

I envy the ‘average’ fan on the hill. I’d love to have a strong but not obsessive infatuation with my club, to enjoy the spectacle and not feel ill as match day approaches. I’d love to laugh off a loss with over a few beers and recount the good times.

I envy the average fan for one simple reason: I used to be one.

A scientist by profession and an atheist by nature leaves me sceptical, untrusting, unconvinced. I need to validate and prove things, unable to make the requisite leap of faith that comes so easily to some. Yet to give an irrational, unfounded commitment to something out of one’s control is one of the hallmarks of being human. Some people choose God. I chose something more tangible – my football team.

A Raiders fan from an early age, I loved trips to the football. The cold, crisp nights in Canberra, rushing down into the floodlit lower section of Bruce Stadium, admiring the arena where my heroes would do battle. Overpriced hot dogs cutting through the chill in the air; the gleaming frost on the immaculate playing surface. Forget about all these notions of heaven, I’m already here, I thought to myself.

The march of time did little to weaken my love the Raiders – in fact, it was strengthened. The emblem, colours and jersey became religious icons. The seventeen ‘chosen ones’ were more than players – they were deities, picked to carry forward the tradition of ‘our’ great club, worshipped on a weekly basis. They could do no wrong.

All along I was told I was crazy. The son of sports-hating parents, the word ‘obsession’ came up regularly. I had built it up beyond what it was; I had made it into something it was not. I often drew parallels to my favourite book, Fitzgerald’s classic work The Great Gatsby. The central character’s unrequited love drove him to madness, so much so that he created a magnificent artificial existence in order to impress the woman of his dreams. “It had gone beyond everything. He threw himself into it with a creative passion, adding to it all the time, decking it out with every bright feather that drifted his way.” I too threw myself into my love with a passion. Entire weekends spent painting banners. Hours in the car following the team around the country. Thousands of dollars spent on merchandise. It was a rewarding, one-way relationship.

Devoting myself even further to the cause, I began to organise with fellow worshippers. Through the Sydney Green Brigade and Raiders Army, a hard-core ‘sect’ had developed, proud to be the best and most vocal fans out there. Initially, the response from our church was overwhelming. The players, recognising our effort, would come over and thank us for our worship. The club would contact us; even the Pope would pass on his thanks. It all seemed so unbelievable that we were getting recognition for our devotion.

I should have learnt from Gatsby – things always seem so exciting and pure from afar. Gatsby soon realised that Daisy, the woman of his dreams, was not what he had built her up to be. She was instead a “woman who retreated back into her money and vast carelessness, leaving others to clean up the mess she made.” I had gotten too close to the club I loved. Rather than being demigods, the players were merely human with their own foibles and inadequacies. The club itself, a symbol of authority and greatness in my life for so long, was now letting me down. Membership tickets never sent, money for our ‘Player of the Year’ trophy never reimbursed. The let-down was immense. I had let rugby league become more than a game, and my religion had been rocked to its foundations.

Older and more cynical, I now appreciate the people who run the Raiders are human, just like myself, and will err and make mistakes. I still love the club and follow it passionately, but the exuberance I once possessed is gone. I miss the romanticism of it all, worshipping the players and feeling the Raiders could do no wrong. I guess I’m a lot like Gatsby, who always “believed in the orgiastic future that year by year recedes before us.” Maybe one day things will return to the way they were, but I doubt it. I indulged in my devotion too much, and I learnt that you never get loved in return.

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750 words between the lines, including title

 

[roosterboy60]

Lions team:

EA
Parra_Panther
Dilmah
Eelectrica
Lisa13.

Reserves:

Roosterboy60, PK.

Good luck to both teams.

 

[Eelectrica]

Eelectrica runs out for the Lions.

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What this season has taught me

1. Expect the unexpected: Every week this season has produced something new and completely different. Week 1 seemed like it was going to be business as usual. We had the reigning premiers, the Bulldogs go on a rampage against a hapless Dragons team. The vanquished grand finalists, the Sydney Roosters defeated their rivals, the Rabbitohs who really hadn’t lived up to their end of the rivalry. The Tigers looked totally inept in defeat against an almost equally inept Eels team. The Broncos opened their season with a strong win over a Cowboys team with huge expectations. Fast-forward to now and the Tigers and Cowboys are in the Grand Final having beaten the heavily favoured Dragons and Eels in the preliminary final. Meanwhile neither the Roosters nor Bulldogs made so much as a cameo appearance in the finals series. And the Rabitohs beat the Roosters in round 24 for the first time since 1994.

2. Enjoy the high points because the lows really suck- As an Eels supporter losing the preliminary final was easily the lowest point of the season and it ain’t much fun. Sure their were other low points such as the hiding I witnessed in Brisbane. So with that in mind I’m going to sit back and remember all the great times we had. As the minor premiers there were plenty of them. The rise of our rookie sensation Tim Smith for a start. For so many years Parramatta has tried to get by with a makeshift half and it hasn’t worked. In Tim Smith, I think our quest is finally over. Another highlight for any Eels supporters was a thumping 50 point win over the hated Bulldogs.

3. What has gone before means nothing: Hard to believe that only one team that made the final 4 in 2004 made it back again. The other 3 teams all missed out on even making the finals. On the other hand the Tigers after producing so many disappointing seasons for their supporters got on an almighty roll straight through to the Grand Final. We had Newcastle go 15 weeks without a win then shortly after breaking through they manange to go 6 weeks without a loss.

4. Take advantage of opportunities because they may not come again: The Cowboys and Tiger epitomise this. For so many years these two teams battled it out for the dreaded wooden spoon. This year they’re battling for the biggest prize in our competition. Last year the Cowboys broke into the finals for the first time and played as if they didn’t know when there next appearance in the finals was going to be. They went out and gave everything they had and it was almost enough. This year the Cowboys stumbled early in the finals but gifted with a second chance then went out and beat the Storm then played with great desperation to destroy the Eels.

5. If you want something enough go out and grab it: The Tigers in the finals series have been a revelation. They haven’t cared what vaunted teams have been placed in front of them. They have beaten them all. Their run into the finals started in round 16 with a big win over the Dragons who at the time were in great form. They stumbled a little at the conclusion of the regular season but it didn’t take long for them pick up again. Once in the finals, instead of playing like they had nothing to lose, they played like they had everything to win and they just might do it.

6. No matter what happens there is always next year: For those of us lamenting our teams all too early exit from the comp all we have left is the hope that next year will be different. If this season has proven anything it’s that supporters from all teams are entitled to a genuine hope and belief that better times are just around the corner. When the siren sounds on this years grand final the NRL will crown its 7th champion in as many years. Only the Brisbane Broncos have been able to claim more than one title. 10 Different teams have played in the Grand final since the formation of the NRL back in 1998. Next year I’ll be hoping it can be 8 in a row with the Parramatta Eels perhaps claiming their first trophy since 1986.
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Word Count: 739 including title

 

[Raider_69]

Raider_69 for the Raiders...

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NRL Idol

Winding down each Sunday afternoon in front of the television after the marathons of 'Super Saturday' and the Sunday league extravaganza, I was unhappy with what I was left with. In the age of 'reality television' and series spinoffs, where it seems Survivor CSI: Special Victims Unit will be the next big hit, the viewing landscape is barren for the sports nut. Sitting down over dinner putting up with the karaoke festival that is Australian Idol, a blast of inspiration hit me - why can't we have an NRL Idol?

Nothing is better than seeing a local junior emerge from the lower grades of a club and explode onto the first grade scene. Karmichael Hunt, Benji Marshall, and of course Sonny Bill - nobodies to superstars in the space of twelve months. If all these talented footballers are waiting in the wings, why can't reality television "manufacture" the next big thing in rugby league, while giving them a bit of spit and polish to make them media savvy and appealing to the kids (and of course, the ladies) at the same time?

Armed with my pad and pen, I scribbled down a show outline that would easily out-rate every other reality TV product on the box.... that is of course if the network heavies would listen to me.

How would it work?

NRL Idol - while Australian Idol scans the country for Australia’s most promising singing talent for a record contract, NRL Idol would search for the 12 most promising league talents and place them in a three month training camp. Every aspect of their game would be assessed and scrutinised by three esteemed judges - from basics skills to interview technique and, of course, looks. The next NRL Idol has to be a looker, so young props need not apply.

The competition would be run during the off-season, ensuring league stays in the headlines all year long and makes its first foray into the gossip mags! Each week one would-be talent will be cast aside by the swag of spotty-faced teenagers hooked on the reality phenomenon with their bulging mobile phone bills - until we are left with our brand new NRL Idol.

The Hosts - being on prime-time television will require charismatic league identities who know their stuff, or at least can read off an autocue without blowing their lines. With a quick wit and looks that can make any young girl weak at the knees, there are two clear candidates. Former Panther Ryan Girdler will be the host, backed up by the born-again Christian Jason Stevens in a sure-fire ploy to win the religious market. Imagine about how funny it will be when the sweet and innocent 'Stevo' consoles the poor heartbroken athlete just voted out whilst the flirtatious 'Girds' hits on their better half in the background!

The Judges - the key to building a blockbuster show will be assembling the best set of judges ever seen on a reality television program, and quite possibly the best set seen on reality TV since Amber on Survivor. Firstly we need a man to hold the show together, to know his league and know it well. Enter 'Gus' Gould who, love him or hate him, knows his league. The make-up artists will have their hands full though.

The second judge will be gutter trash merchant Rebecca Wilson. Why? Besides obeying rule one of reality TV that at least one judge has to be female, her spats with Phil Gould alone will make the show worth watching! It's hoped that members of the Bulldogs board will make guest appearances just to spice it up that bit more.

Rounding out the panel would be none other then the superstar from yesteryear, the one and only Reg Reagan. Complete with KB in hand, Reg won't be scared to tell it like it is, while giving handy pointers about off-the-ball incidents. Gould would be the straight man with insightful comments, while Wilson will say a few generic niceties that no-one will take notice of. Topped off by the sparkling banter between Girds and Stevo, 'NRL Idol' has all the hallmarks of being a reality TV hit.

Will it be a success? You better believe it. Combining Australia's love of rugby league with the reality television phenomenon will create a monster every other TV channel will fear. Our first manufactured footballer is almost a reality. Do not adjust your set people… NRL Idol is coming to a television set near you!
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Word Count: 750

 

[I Bleed Green]

IBG with a barnstorming run for the Raiders in this do-or-die semi final...

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The Ultimate Prize


Blink. Blink. Blink.

Your eyes adjust to the bright sun shining through the curtains in your bedroom as you awake from your deep slumber. You roll over and glance at the alarm clock, where the display is showing 7:15am. You quickly realise that today is one of the most important days of your life, and your alarm clock has decided not to wake you up at 6:30am like it was supposed to. You jump out of bed as quickly as you can. You don't have enough time to take a shower or even to stop for a cup of coffee; you just throw your Wests Tigers gear on and jump in the car. After growing up as a Western Suburbs Magpie fan, and now being a Tiger, this is your boyhood dream. Today, if everything goes to plan, your dreams will be fulfilled.

Your car dodges and weaves in between traffic, just like you plan to do on the battlefield in a short while. You keep glancing at the clock and tapping your fingers impatiently on the steering wheel, praying that a faulty alarm clock isn't going to rob you of your shot at history.

Your mind goes into overdrive. You start to go over all the plans in your head. You start to recollect all the important tactics you've studied for what seems like an eternity. The hours and hours of preparation will all be worth it, if things go off without a hitch. You've had a think about the opposition and what they might do to jag a victory, but you've come up with specific plans to neutralise them as much as possible. You hope that you haven't left a single stone unturned, but you fear what will be directed at you out on the field.

You're making good time. It's going to be OK. You'll get there.

You pull up to the venue, and luckily enough, you're able to find a park quickly. You race towards the entrance, when you see seventeen others who you'll have to fight with your life against to make sure that you get the ultimate prize. They've gone through just as much work and preparation as you have, but you'll be damned if you're going to let them take away your dream. The insults and quick-witted barbs are traded with your opponents, a customary tradition in a high-stakes game such as this.

This is the moment you've waited so long for. You are a Tiger through and through, so you haven't had much to be happy about ever since you began your association with the club. Through the numerous wooden spoons, inept coaching regimes and a lack of player depth and quality at the club, you now know that all of it has been worth it to get to this point. Because as of this moment, all of those memories of loss after loss are nothing more than an insignificant blip on the radar.

You decide to take it right to the opposition, as you try and hustle your way through the defence. You have to physically jostle with them for position, but you manage to split them wide open, and after brushing through a couple of would-be defenders, you hit the front with no one in sight.

Now it's just a foot race.

You're a big bopper, and this test of speed and endurance is going to be tough. But you can see the finish line in the distance, it's almost within reach.

You arrive at your destination and throw your hands up in complete jubilation, as your opponents run up behind you and lower their heads in disappointment. They knew they just gave up a big play. They knew that letting you through was a big mistake that could come back to haunt them from living the same dream you're pursuing.

Minutes pass nervously but before you know it, it's all over, you've won. There may not be any blood, there may not even be any tears, but the sweat and repulsive body odour are most certainly worth it.

You're finally handed the ultimate prize and hold it up high in the air to celebrate.



...



One single adult NRL Grand Final ticket.

As a Wests Tigers supporter, you're finally going to the greatest game of all, and hopefully to see your team make history.

You may have won your battle, but now, the real war is just about to begin.


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744 words including title.

 

[[furrycat]]

***streaker***

 

[TooheysNew]

Dilmah runs out for the Lions, slaps [furry] and lines up for the national anthem.

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War

Two armies lay in their trenches at opposite ends of the battlefield, waiting - their hearts and minds a slurry of emotion. Anticipation, nervousness, fear, courage and uncertainty.

* * * * * * * * *

​

The bugle sounds and they know the time has come to prove their worth. This is the day they prove themselves against the best the enemy has to offer. Today they will become men. Today is the day all their combat training comes to the forefront. They will rely on everything they have learned, coupled with all the courage they can muster.

War is about courage.

The bugle’s blast slices through all uncertainty. It is the catalyst for ‘game-on’. The groups of men are slapped back to the present. Stinging blows that shatter dreams and memories. Instantly the mood changes, from fear and apprehension to blind hatred of the enemy. Everything is forgotten. Everything, but the task at hand. Everything but war.

War is about focus.

The soldier explodes from his trench and heads towards his enemy. His bayonet is drawn, his guns loaded. He weaves his way across the battlefield - stepping over the bodies of his fallen comrades - swerving around the clutching arms of the desperate enemy. Desperate to protect their trenches from infiltration. Desperate to survive. Desperate to be victorious.

War is about victory.

Suddenly one of the enemy falls, fatigued - both physically and mentally. Weary from the pressures of battle. The soldier stretches out and slides through the gap. He streaks his way towards the trenches. Just as he reaches the trench he is hit from behind. A stray bullet clips him on the ankle, taking his foot out from underneath him. He keeps scrambling, struggling in the vain hope he can make it to the enemies trench where he can launch an offensive and help his army to victory. Even in the face of death, and utter hopelessness, victory is still on his mind. Victory is all that is on his mind.

War is about desperation.


Another bullet hits him in the back, and he falls to the ground, and yet he gets up again and keeps crawling. With every ounce of strength in his body he fights, until he can fight no more. Even then, he falls facing the enemy.

War is about determination.

Through the roar of guns and the groaning of beaten men, the sergeant’s voice is piercing. He paces along on the side of the battlefield, barking orders to his troops - reminding them of the battle plans, instructing them of changes to the attack. Shouting encouragement. He feels every assault on his men as if it were him. He feels ever flesh piercing bullet. He is as involved as any of his troopsHe shares every moment with his men. Both the good and the bad.

War is about passion.

There are no white flags, and noone will surrender. This battle will rage until the death. Until one team is victorious, standing taller than the rest. There can only be one victor and losing is not an option. There is no room for second best. War allows not for complacency.

War is about champions.

The victorious will go down forever in memories. The loser, almost forgotten. The battle, etched in history for enternity. Such is the way of war. It changes the lives of everyone involved, builds character, and strenthens mateship - generating an understanding that will never broken.

War is about eternity.

* * * * * * * * *
Rugby League is war. Rugby League is about war.

Courage, Focus, Victory, Desperation, Determination, Passion, Champions, Eternity.

These are the words that invoke such emotion about our game - and the reasons why our game today is still the best game of all.

​

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​

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643 words between the lines.

 

[skeepe]

skeepe bashes it up the middle, hoping he's done enough to bring the Raiders home

A Dog’s Life

“There’s no need to fear, Underdog is here!” (Underdog, 1964)

So simple, yet so poignant. In professional sport, there is no tag sought after more than that of the underdog. Worn like a badge of honour, and often with such a significance that in the lead-up to a big match, it is not uncommon for both sides to claim it. Queensland are the masters of this sales pitch. When favoured to win the State of Origin series, they so deftly point out that the New South Welshman are fitter, faster, stronger. Cue a healthy betting plunge on the Cockroaches and once more the Cane Toads are the underdogs, parity restored to the universe.

Favouritism, it seems, is for losers. Logic would dictate that to be favoured in a contest would be something to be proud of; you are seen as the stronger unit, you have the greater chance of victory. Yet, as evidenced most strongly in the recent preliminary finals, favouritism can end up getting the better of sportsmen. Complacency sadly walks hand in hand down the aisle with the favouritism tag more often than not. Parramatta’s performance could not have been a better example had they had the word 'complacent' tattooed across their foreheads. Nathan Hindmarsh was rested so he would be fit for the grand final. History will tell us, of course, that he never got there.

Sometimes it’s the pressure of expectation. When you are expected by all and sundry to wipe the floor with the other mob, things can go awry quickly. 'Quicksand' is an apt description for what happens in these situations. Something goes wrong, so you try even harder next time to make up for it. That, too, goes wrong, so you try harder. No matter how hard you try, it just keeps getting worse until eventually, you’re gone.

Pressure can lead to nerves. Nerves are a natural thing, but terrible for a footballer. One dropped ball, one missed tackle, and you’re in the quicksand up to your neck. Nerves are not, however, exclusive to favourites. Underdogs will have them as well, but somehow they appear not to show it. The absence of expectation on their shoulders appears to act like a sedative, and often a care-free, open brand of football is the result. There is no better example than the forthcoming grand final. Two excitement machines are ready to go head to head in a battle to the death. One will lift the trophy, one will be so despondent they can barely see for the tears.

Who will be in which position is the question that will be raised all week. Not who will hold the trophy aloft, but who will be installed as favourites? Who are the underdogs? Both will try to claim the other is the favourite while being quietly confident themselves, but it appears the public won't be fooled. The Tigers have been installed as strong favourites, the Cowboys distant outsiders. So early in grand final week things are favouring the Cowboys - they will revel in their underdog status, and it may allow them to produce their best football, for the second week in a row.

Being the underdog is a massive psychological boost. If you can hold the favourites scoreless for a while, your confidence grows while theirs wanes. If you happen to lose, you were never expected to win anyway - disappointment aside. If you happen to win, it is a magnificent story that is sure to be retold for years to come. Favourites don’t have it so easy. If they lose, they are chokers. Failed. Bombed out. If they win, they did was what was expected of them. A lose-lose situation, trophy aside (although admittedly, it is a massive aside).

As the 2005 season comes to a close, we have been blessed with many fond memories. Every supporter has had a reason to cheer, whether it be a great start, an amazing finish, or a fantastic run in the middle. When the full time whistle is blown on Sunday night, it will not matter who won and who lost (although try telling that to Tigers and Cowboys fans!). More than a maiden grand final win for either side, more than the players who starred or the players who disappointed, 2005 will be remembered as the year the underdog came out on top.

729 words, including title

 

[choc_soldier]

parra_panther, the Lions #4, attempts to channel the nerves into something positive and constructive...


Mulgoa Road

To the average Sydneysider, it’s nothing more than a four lane connector between the city centre of Penrith and the M4, and onto the rural villages that are scattered along the Nepean River to the south.

To me, this thoroughfare means a lot more. It holds special memories – ones that I will cherish for as long as I live.

Flashback: Sunday 5th October, 2003, around 9pm. I was in Glenmore Park, at a mate’s BBQ. I had just witnessed a life defining moment – my footy team winning the grand final.

As soon as full time came, I instantly knew where I had to go - Panthers. I didn’t even stick around to see Craig Gower lift the trophy. I left so quickly that I didn’t even say goodbye to my mates.

After literally storming out of the house like a bull in a China shop, I suddenly stood still in the cul-de-sac, spending a quiet moment reflecting the magnitude of the moment.

After trekking through the urban maze, which is Glenmore Park, I eventually got on to Mulgoa Road, which would directly take me to my destination. Whilst that suburb was abuzz itself with excitement, it did not prepare me for what I was about to witness.

Going through Regentville, a small village now wedged between Glenmore Park and Penrith, you knew that something special was unfolding. Mulgoa Road, which would normally have very little traffic movement on a Sunday night, was like peak hour.

Every car seemingly had a recurring theme – full of Panthers supporters, whom just like me, had just seen their team achieve glory, and were in various stages of deliriousness.

I was too – some of it was alcohol induced, but it was also adrenalin. Still in a state of shock, I would every now and then just scream out ecstatic nothingness, and have my arms stretched upwards, just like Wesser after another scintillating try. Decked out in my pre-Sanyo white alternative jersey, my actions alone made me easily recognisable.

Every resident in Regentville was seemingly out and about and just mingling with fellow supporters, most of who were complete strangers. But it didn’t matter – we were all united by the moment.

Onwards I would go, under the M4 overpass, and up past the Homemakers Centre and the Greygums Hotel. It looked like the apocalypse was looming, and everyone was fleeing Penrith, using Mulgoa Road as an exit point. All right, perhaps a slight exaggeration. But it appeared that the entire population had all of a sudden concentrated themselves along one narrow band of land.

I was ambushing anyone I could see in a Panthers jersey, and just behaving in sheer exuberance, which was usually reciprocated. I had never seen these people before, and was likely to never see them again afterwards, but for that night, they were all my best mates, and just soaked it all up.

Walking past Sinclair Ford and the Westbus depot, the sounds were getting louder and louder. I was approaching “ground zero”. The traffic was literally at a standstill, but no one seemed to mind. There were flags waving, the team song blaring out of the stereo, and happiness in its purest form.

Arrival at the large Jamison Road roundabout signalled that the journey was nearing its end. After 5 kilometres, and sharing the celebrations with countless people, I saw the empty Penrith Stadium to my right. And to my left, the monolithic structure of Penrith Leagues Club. The throng of people that had converged on the area was truly sight to behold.

Seeing that I was not a member, I couldn’t enter the club. Whilst disappointing, it didn’t really matter, as there were a few thousand people outside, waiting in anticipation for the teams triumphant return to Panther HQ.

There were young toddlers, the elderly, and everyone in between. It meant so much to so many people. We heartily sang and cheered, with a slightly altered version of “We Are The Champions” the crowd favourite (replacing “losers” with “Roosters”). Everyone had his or her own story for the evening. We would discuss the match and our feelings. Nervousness at the beginning. The Sattler tackle. Rooney’s second try. Full time. Beating the Roosters. Priddis winning the Clive Churchill medal. Seeing Gower lift up the trophy.

When the team bus finally arrived back at Penrith around midnight, we saw Gower reproduce that moment, in front of thousands of the Panthers faithful.

Ecstasy, pure ecstasy.

-------------------------------
Word count: 749 [including title]

 

[Everlovin' Antichrist]

EA for the Lions.

Cinderella story?

16th June 1991.

That was the date of my first and only run-in with the late legendary Laurie Nicholls. We (The Magpies) were being comfortably beaten by Balmain at Campbelltown and late in the second half Laurie started shadow boxing in front of the Magpies faithful. Annoyed at my team’s performance and the interrupted view of the game, I told Laurie to piss off. I immediately apologised to Laurie and offered to buy him a beer as penance. Laurie winked at me, told me the apology was enough and moved on. He understood passion and even though he annoyed the crap out of me at the time, I always admired his passion for the game and for the Balmain Club.

14 years on...

Laurie would have loved season 2005. The Tigers, after five years of relative, and sometimes abject, failure have clicked into a gear most teams have found to be two cogs above their own top gear. But what would really amaze Laurie are the depths some of the Tigers players have fought back from to get where they are today.

For example;

Brett Hodgson:

2002, Lang Park; Gorden Tallis pulled NSW’s fullback Brett Hodgson over the sideline in a most ungainly fashion. It was akin to watching a precocious 7 year old throwing their favourite doll out the front door in a fit of petulance.

That was the precise moment that Brett Hodgson’s Rugby League career went into decline. Up until that point the roller-coaster ride that was Brett Hodgson’s career had been a series of inclines that seemingly wouldn’t stop. But it did stop. His club side, Parramatta, was on the decline as well, they had been beaten in the “can’t lose” 2001 Grand Final and spluttered aimlessly in 2002 till beaten by Brisbane in round one of the playoffs.

Hodgson’s career nadir came in May 2003 when he was unceremoniously dropped to Premier League for the first time in his career. Barely a month after being dumped from First Grade and after being given permission to negotiate with other clubs, the West Tigers announced the signing of Brett Hodgson for the next 3 seasons. Since that time Hodgson has been the backbone of the Wests Tigers, a custodian with few peers.

Dene Halatau:

12 months ago Dene Halatau played what I consider to be the worst game I’ve ever seen from an individual player in the NRL. Against the Cowboys at Campbelltown in 2004 he made no less than seven handling errors in a match the Tigers had to win to qualify for the semi-finals. The pressure seemed to destroy him. But, any furrowed brows on Tigers’ faithful as he took the field in the first week of semi-finals this season were less furrowed with his first bullocking run and ironed clear with his subsequent barnstorming runs in that and the two following matches.

Daniel Fitzhenry:

A converted 5-8/Centre Fitzhenry, prior to the middle of this season, seemed to be picked in first grade on reputation. According to most Tigers fans it had to be someone else’s reputation he was being picked on. A lot of hard work and dedication later, he has earned his position in a Grand Final starting line-up.

Patty Richards and Scott Prince:

Four broken legs between them.

Mark O’Neill and John Skandalis:

The only two current Tigers players to have played for either Wests or Balmain in the NRL prior to the JV’s inception and only the Wests Tigers since; neither had ever played in a semi-final up until this season. O'Neill had played over 200 NRL matches and Skandalis just under 200 NRL matches prior to this year's semis. The only certainty on Sunday night is that these two warriors will have given everything they have and will leave nothing in the tank.

The Tigers are a mixture of crocks, toilers, ex-duffers and kids, most of whom up until six months ago wouldn’t have made the starting line-up of most other NRL clubs, yet here we are with less than a week until this motley crew runs onto the turf of Stadium Australia to play for the Rugby League equivalent of the Holy Grail.

The Wests Tigers story is not a Cinderella story; it’s a story of courage and determination in the face of crippling adversity. If it were a movie it would be Major League, Mighty Ducks, Slapshot, How High and Bad Boy Bubby combined. Tim Sheens would direct it and Laurie Nicholls would have loved it.

750 words.

 

[griffo346]

***griffo346 decked out in his cheerleading outfit cheers for the raiders cmon boys
Give me a R, A, I, D,E,R,S
whats that spell
RAIDERS yehhhhhhhhh***

 

[roosterboy60]

Interchange:

In: Roosterboy60

Out: Lisa13

 

[roosterboy60]

Roosterboy60 for the Lions:

2005 almost gone, bring on 2006.

As season 2005 draws to a close on Sunday with a great Grand Final in prospect, are things going to improve for the struggling teams or will things get worse? Of course we won’t know this for another six months at least but let’s have a look at what could happen next year.

For the two grand finalists, things should stay the same. Or in the case of the Tigers, get better. Is that possible? A lot of League “experts” and fans a like have been saying that next year they could win the comp with the players they have bought but they could actually win one this Sunday, and if they were to win on Sunday, it wouldn’t surprise me if they went back to back.

Up until last Sunday, the Cowboys had not been performing like some had expected but they turned it on against Parramatta. I don’t see things getting much worse for the Cowboys and I think they will be up at the top of the ladder next year as well.

What can you say about the Dragons? Of at least the last two months of the season we all thought they were going to win the comp but then went down to the Tigers last week. Next year might be the Dragons last chance to win the comp for a while. They will once again be around the top next year but if they can win it remains to be seen.

The Eels were the form team all year but once again didn’t go on with it against the Cowboys to make it to the Grand Final. Whilst Tim Smith saved his worst for last, he has been a revelation for this Eels team and I expect him to continue to improve. This only means good things for Parramatta. Maybe they will be contesting for the title next year.

The Storm are a team that could struggle next year with Matt Orford leaving to go to Manly and there is no doubt that they will miss him next year. The Storm are one of two teams from this year’s top eight that I think will miss out on it next year. It’s going to be hard for them to replace Orford, but if somehow they do they could once again be in with a chance but I doubt it.

The Broncos once again face the same problem they have had the past few years and that is the post State Of Origin period. The Broncos led the competition for a long time this year only to go on another one of their losing streaks, I think they’ll still be in eight but where about’s depends on how the cope after Origin.

The Sharks showed some promise this year but never really went on with the great to the year they had. I have no doubt the Sharks play at their best when Brett Kimmorley is firing but since his Origin appearance this year he has seemed down on confidence and has only played a handful of good games ever since. I expect the Sharks to drop out of the eight for next year, unless Kimmorley fires.

Despite some people tipping Manly to miss out on the eight next year, I reckon Manly might actually improve next season with Matt Orford arriving. No one expected them at the start of this season to come eighth, let alone lead the comp at the start of the season. It’ll be interesting to see how they use Michael Monaghan next year but overall I think they’ll be in the eight.

I feel that next year there is three teams that can contest the eight that didn’t make it this year.

The Roosters, Knights and Panthers would be the ones.

For the Roosters it depends if Braith Anasta can strike up a combination with either Brett Finch or Jamie Soward next season, who appears to be his likely halves partner. I do expect them to make the eight next year, but probably the lower half.

If Andrew Johns stays on the field, the Knights are always a chance and I believe if he does stay fit they could easily make the eight.

If the Panthers can continue their end of season form they could also make the eight. They need Campbell and Gower on the field to be a force.

Most teams are waiting for next season, bring it on!

 

[antonius]

Ref Blows Fulltime.

 

[antonius]

Well done to both teams, some exellent efforts in this game.

 

[I Bleed Green]

Great stuff to both teams, looks to be a close 5 v 5 match. May the best side win.

 

[roosterboy60]

Good luck to both teams, great match.