Round 7 Roosters v Bluebags 2010

[The Piper]

Forum 7s - Round 7 2010
SYDNEY OZZIE ROOSTERS v NEWTOWN BLUEBAGS

-v-

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

Naming Teams:
* 5v5 (+ 2 reserves for visiting team, 3 reserves for home team)
* No 'TBA' or changing players named
* Captains must stick with original teams named

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

FULL TIME: Wednesday 4th August 2010 at 9pm (Syd time)
REFEREE: The Piper
Venue: Sydney Football Stadium

CLICK HERE FOR OFFICIAL WORD COUNTER

 

[Willow]

The Baggers bus arrives at the old Sydney Sports Ground and collectively shakes the hands of the home side. Just waiting for the referee to blow the whistle... and game on!

NEWTOWN BLUEBAGS - ROUND 7, 2010



Timmah
Red Bear
Drew-Sta
gorilla (vc)
Willow (w)

Bench:
mrsmannering
Rexxy

Good luck one and all. :thumn

 

[Red Bear]

Red Bear takes the field with a shedload of strapping tape keeping his AC join together. This can only go well...

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Too Much to Ask?

I consider myself a relatively selfless rugby league supporter. Like anyone, I have my own agenda at times. I have however, supported this great sport through the loss of my club and defended it against the non-believers, both in everyday life and on message boards.

Likewise, the club that I support has, throughout its history, put the greater good first. It fully supported the introduction of the Manly-Warringah club in 1947. In the mid-90’s they remained loyal to the ARL and the traditions of the game. In 1998 they decided that they would help the game’s expansion by leaving their base of some 90 years, the only club to remain at one home ground, and move to the Central Coast.

There has been no reward for this attitude. The club lost its entire backline to Manly via the residential rule for the 1947 season, lost two councils worth of juniors and took 40 years to recover on the field. Rejecting the black money of News Limited ultimately played a part in the clubs downfall, whilst permanently begging clubs such as Cronulla survived. The results of the move to the Central Coast are well known.

So I ask, can I be selfish for once? Can my club be selfish for a change?

A criticism levelled is that there is already too many Sydney and New South Wales clubs in the national competition. A criticism levelled is that we should just accept our lot. It’s mentioned that we should be more concerned with the national expansion. That the Central Coast is close to other teams.

The pro-Central Coast arguments have been done to death, but I’ve reached the point where I don’t care. For me it isn’t about the Central Coast. It’s about the reinstatement of a club that Kevin Rudd might described as having been ‘ratf****d.’

This is a club of which I am a fourth generation supporter. When my Dad was growing up he, along with his father (my Grandpa) would go along and pick his father (my Great-Grandfather) up, along with his thermos, and they’d get their spot under the famous fig tree. In those times they’d more often than not walk away having watched the club lose. The feeling of victory, especially against Manly, was a rare joy. ‘Sensational,’ as described by my Dad.

This evolved into Dad and I driving up and meeting Grandpa at games in the mid-late 90’s. Walking to the ground up Miller Street, sitting in the O’Reilly Stand and watching a much better football side. One of my earlier memories is going to the SFS and watching Mundine tear us apart with my Grandpa, Dad and Uncle.

The last time I saw this club in first grade and the last game my Grandpa ever went to live was on July 4th, 1999, in the midst of a chaotic season. A classy Newcastle side was far too strong on the day. Since then none of us follow a side, despite still watching the game.

I’m sure my story is not at all unique. We’ve been around for over 100 years, picking up a lot of loyal support along the way. You don’t kill that off overnight, as the NRL discovered in the South Sydney marches of November 2000.

What makes me think about and state all this is more recent events. In mid-June this year my Grandpa was found to have five tumours growing on his brain. At any age this isn’t exactly good news. At 79 you can assume a pretty limited lifespan. And so another generation of support leaves us, which makes me wonder whether I can continue this family tradition into the future.

I guess this is where the selfishness takes over. This is a club that still means a lot to a lot of people. My Grandpa and Dad want the club back. I want my club back. The club wants to be back. Is that really a crime? Or is it simply the expected want of a club that had 92 seasons of doing the right thing by the game, and was rewarded with absolutely nothing. A club that has spent the last eleven years fighting for its place. A club that has watched sides make a quick buck by playing games out of the ground they built. I’m sure if certain critics had had similar events occur at their club they’d feel the same way.

Bring Back The Bears.
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746 words

 

[Non Terminator]

Roosters side.

Non Terminator (c)
Bubbles (c)
Adamkungl (c)
Monk
Cliffhanger

-

Fein
roosterboy60
henriete

 

[adamkungl]

adamkungl posts first points for the Roosters with 749 words under the stars

​

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Redemption

​

This is the most excited I’ve been about football since 2004. I can’t help smiling every time I read about the Roosters amazing turnaround, or daring to think about where it could end up. As soon as a game ends, I immediately can’t wait until the next weekend. Screw the Hayne Train/Plane/whatever rhyming transportation option he decides to be next week! I’m riding with the Carney Army and what a ride it’s turning out to be!

If the many, many lows of last year were necessary for the Roosters club to take a good, hard look at itself then I gladly accept the wooden spoon. In 2009 the Roosters hit rock bottom early and continued to dig deeper. There were multiple floggings. They were playing gutless, heartless football. On a trip to North Queensland there was Coach Fittler’s drunken foray into someone else’s hotel room. Not to mention Jake Friend’s various police issues. Oh, and Nate Myles’ defecation of a hotel corridor. Then finally, after all that, accusations of throwing the final match, disgracing Captain and Roosters legend Craig Fitzgibbon’s final match with the club!

Years like last year make years like this one so much sweeter. There are a lot of stories playing out in the background. As a whole, the Roosters club is looking for redemption. Going from the train wreck of last season to challenging for the minor premiership in 2010 is nothing short of amazing. A premiership would be one of the greatest Rugby League fairy tales of all time. The NRL itself must be starting to get excited. After the Melbourne Storm fiasco, nothing is a greater advertisement for Rugby League than a story like this, not to mention the fantastic attacking football on display. Even opposition fans are starting to get behind the usually hated Roosters!

Individually, three people stand out. Nobody is looking for redemption more than the trio of Todd Carney, Nate Myles and Jake Friend. Todd Carney was banished to bush football after a never-ending stream of offences with the Raiders, now is looking at a possible Dally M and rep selection. Nate Myles had his much documented ‘hotel incident’ and is now off the drink, in career best fitness and form, and leading the Roosters forward pack in a way that would do Craig Fitzgibbon proud. Jake Friend was sacked after one too many alcohol related offences. After keeping his nose clean working in a Surry Hills sandwich shop, he has since been re-signed and has become a linchpin of the Roosters success.

Who has been responsible for the miraculous turnaround? You can’t look past Coach Brian Smith. Bringing discipline and professionalism that was sorely missing from the 2009 Roosters, along with a couple of astute signings, Smith has turned the club around. Like most people in the club, Smith is searching for his own form of redemption. After a 25 year coaching career and losing Grand Finals with Hull in 1989, St George in 1992, St George again in 1993, and Parramatta in 2001, Brian Smith is still looking for that elusive premiership. His many detractors in the media claim he has a fundamental inability to win the big one. Smith is certainly looking to redeem himself and silence his detractors by finally winning a Grand Final, and what better way to do that than to start from the very bottom.

2009 held some of the worst times I’ve ever experienced at a football game. There was the Round 1 demolition at the hands of South Sydney. There was the last minute try by Titans winger (and former Rooster) Chris Walker to snatch away a rare Roosters victory. Worst of all, there was the moment in Round 26 when the Cowboys hit the lead that every Roosters fan knew the wooden spoon was ours for the first time in over 40 years. In contrast, this year has provided Roosters fans some great memories that will last forever. In Round 1 they made up for the corresponding match of 2009 by blowing away South Sydney’s self-proclaimed best pack in the NRL, and I will never forget the three consecutive last minute victories against Souths, Canterbury and Brisbane in Rounds 18, 19 and 20. The sight of thousands of Souths and Bulldogs fans going silent with shock as the Chook Pen erupted was quite simply amazing.

Every Roosters victory in 2010 is made ten times better due to the failings of 2009.

Easts will claim their redemption.

 

[Non Terminator]

Non Terminator with another hit-up. 730 OWC.

"2 Dollar Scratchie Please"

It was my 21st birthday last weekend. How exciting it was. Sure enough, I got spoiled. Really spoiled. But hey, it was an amazing day. Once again, I woke up to remind myself that it was game day. As usual, I would dig out the old Roosters training shirt and whatever else I could find. If you didn't know, my late aunt gave me that shirt for my birthday in 2004, and I have worn it every game day since. 135 games. We've seen 53 victories, 1 draw and a sh*tload of defeats (well, it was mostly post-Fittler era) but I never forgot to put it on.

Anyway, we drove to visit my mother, who is the biggest Parramatta Eels fan I know (being a member of LeagueUnlimited, I'd say that's a fairly massive compliment). She likes to drive out the old "I played netball with Ray Price's sister" sort of thing. Great stories. We kept another family tradition. The two dollar bet. When our teams played each other, we'd pull out the old bet. So far it's been a good year for it. We've beaten my sister's Wests Tigers twice, plus a win (and a loss) against my girlfriend's Bulldogs. But Parramatta...well...no idea how that was going to go.

Mind you, when my girlfriend recently gave me my scratchie (still wearing the training shirt mind you), I won a handy $8. Walking up to the cashier at Bateau Bay, she told me she was going to refuse handing me my winnings. Why was this? Because she too, was a Bulldogs supporter (who ironically had a husband who was a mad Roosters supporter). Biggest coincidence I've recently seen.

Back to the bet, we had a nice day together but before the 5:30pm kick-off I would already be back home preparing the party for when my old school friends would join us in the house. I kept my iPod on the game screen, getting live updates from LeagueUnlimited. Could've used the radio, but it would've been slightly anti-social. Especially at my own party.

I went to the bathroom, not realising it was 5:45pm. Crap! The scoreline of "Eels 0 Roosters 12" sort of calmed me down, as I began to giggle in excitement. Yes...very manly indeed. Before I knew it, our score continued to rise. As soon as the Roosters went up 24-6 right before the break, I was about to call my mother, as guests were soon to arrive. However, Nathan Hindmarsh went over, and I remembered that stressful game against the Broncos. I decided to wait until full-time for the call, so I wouldn't look like a total dickhead (believe me, it's been done before).

All of a sudden, our score kept going up. It was amazing. This was against Parramatta, the side that has been going on a hot run themselves (reminding the reader, how much success have the Roosters had in the last few seasons, I've forgotten to be used to this). Even in season 2008, where we finished fourth, we were still pretty average.

About half-past seven, full-time had rung and we had won 48-12. I couldn't believe it. I probably giggled again. I didn't know whether to rub it in my mother's face, or make sure she was ok. After some of the recent losses, she's been making her loving Parramatta Eels teddy bear face the wall in shame and disgust. I remember her doing that for the Grand Final. It didn't turn around until about April, though she might have let the bear off the hook during Christmas.

Eventually, knowing the sort of things I could say to her, I decided to call my mother, asking her how she was. There was only one thing she could say after what she had just witnessed.

"So, how did you like my late present?"

I couldn't help but laugh. A great night and somehow one of the best victories I have ever witnessed happened on my 21st birthday. It felt amazing, although you'd consider that to be an understatement. But right now, I await Friday morning where I will be visiting her for morning tea. She's going to do her weekly grocery shopping trip tonight, but she would have to have something certain in mind for her gorgeous (I had to...) son.

"2 Dollar Scratchie Please!"

 

[Drew-Sta]

Drew-Sta for the Bluebags!

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Natural habitat

Good evening viewers, and my name is David Attenborough! Here I am in the Australian wilderness tracking the various predators in the natural environment. What a fascinating place it is.

Oh, look! Over that way, near the bushes. Ahh, a remarkable specimen of Tiger from the Wests. It appears to be limping. My gosh, its feet! They’re bloody paws and seem unable to correctly nudge the ball of string it’s playing with through the sticks it’s lined up. Despite the impressive bite and vicious claws, it can’t seem to perform such a basic task. You would think it would change tactic and try to use a different approach rather than just thump the ball of string with the back of its paw.

If we look to the left now, we can spot a friendly looking rabbit. Oh dear me, look at the fangs on the little thing! My gosh, it’s just launched itself at that Tiger from the Wests! For such a tiny animal it certainly has some strong up front strength. And look at them go! Both the predators are rolling around clawing and biting each other. A shame they just rolled into the bushes again, that will no doubt be an interesting tussle.

How charming, a lovely looking wild horse has come into view. Quick, cameraman, point it that way! So very grand and majestic, it struts around like it is king of the wilderness! Despite the bronco’s lack of claws and fangs it has great speed and strength in the way it moves. Just make sure you don’t stand behind it because it does pack a potent kick to ward off its enemies.

I do believe that stormy weather is coming along now. The weather is truly spectacular in this country despite the fact that nobody seems to worry about where it ends up or how it strikes. It could be said it has an unfair advantage, given nobody except the evil gods can touch it, but how it interacts in this environment is important. It can still strike the predators, but the damage isn’t permanent.

And walking into the scene is a Raider! The green-clad man looks angry, despite the fact he looks disorientated and somewhat inconsistent in his attacking raids. He does seem to be setting himself up for something big, especially with the chest beating and pumping of muscles. Woah, fantastic! It appears the storm has struck the Raider with a damaging lightning bolt. The green-clad man lays stunned on the ground, and appears to be very groggy

What is that sound? I do believe it’s the crowing of the rooster! Hear it crow! Despite being such a small and strange animal, the cry seems to strike fear into those who hear it. As it struts into camera focus, it seems to have an iron beak that is allowing it to easily break through the defences of its enemy.

Holy moly! It appears to be charging that dragon! The red and white dragon has just landed in the field, and the rooster has charged straight up to it and is pecking it ferociously! The legendary creature, despite its best efforts, simply can’t hit the tiny creature but seems to be withstanding the onslaught fairly well. Little bleeding is occurring, but it must only be a matter of time before that changes. Both winged creatures roll on the ground before falling off a cliff in a dramatic tussle for dominance. They appear to have a true rivalry.

What’s that smell? *Sound of sniffing* I do believe it’s a fishy smell. Oh, dear me. Look over there! That gigantic native warrior seems to be dragging a dead shark into the scene and is continuing to beat it with a club! I have never seen anything like this before at all!! The shark appears to be completely dead and is being clubbed to beyond a bloody pulp.

Walking in to frame now appears to be an enthusiastic and armored knight. What’s that though? Oh good gracious, an incredibly overweight bulldog has run into the scene and has latched on to the knights ankle despite the armor! The knight attempts to beat the dog off with his hands but the ferociousness of the animal knocks him into a river stream and they’re washed away.

Well I never! The Australian outback is truly a remarkable place filled with all sorts of strange and wondrous creatures!

 

[Willow]

Willow | Bluebags



THE MEANING OF LIFE

"He who needs meat is a slave to the cow..."

When I was young, following Rugby League was without doubt a religious experience. I had no interest in religions per sē, but I was a devoted follower just the same.

Actually, it's bigger than religion. People occasionally lose faith in their god of choice, but how many stop supporting their team? Rugby League has it all: passion, faith, loyalty and team work. There's the exaltation of victory and nowhere to hide when the going gets tough. Rugby League is the ultimate contest, bigger than life. Bigger than Jesus.

Is it possible for me to leave Rugby League?

You can imagine my surprise when I found the bible to be chock-full of stories about team work. One notable exception being that there is one god - or as we say in league circles, one man team. As we know, this just doesn't work in life, or on the football field. God, like Santa Claus, is not a team player.

Nevertheless, the gospels hold numerous examples of people getting together for a common cause.

My favourite is the tale of Noah's Ark. A great yarn about a small family of outcasts building a massive boat in the middle of nowhere. While the sane townsfolk laughed, crazy old Noah and his team kept toiling away. As most god-fearing people know, Noah had the last laugh when the referee delivered a flood of penalties on the unsuspecting town, and probably towns everywhere in the known world. The flood decimated innocent men, women and children. But the ref did allow Noah to save a few animals, possibly for some bizarre post-match celebrations.

Moses leading the Jewish people out of Egypt, via the sacking of an Egyptian town, was another great example of team work. Turning defence into attack, the Israelites despatched a rear guard action that left the pursuing Egyptian army in the bogs of the Red Sea. This team work went on for generations when the dynasty pushed forth towards the promised land. Actually, it was called Canaan and the Canaanites lived there, but that didn't stop the Israelites laying claim to it. After burning the fortress town of Jericho and killing everyone inside, the new team leader Joshua pushed on to become a major league stakeholder in what was to become known as the Israel franchise.

But the best team players were probably the Romans. When Jesus started kicking up a fuss, the administration of the day did a pretty good job of turning his own team against him. With terrifying precision, the Romans would form a scrum that had proven unbeatable for generations. They gave it some fancy name, the testudo or tortoise formation... but make no mistake, this was a scrum. In the case of the aforementioned prophet, the Romans were also pretty good at getting one over on the referee. With the help of well drilled coaching staff, they became experts at building the best damn crucifixes that the game had ever seen.

While we're on the subject, is there a league fan that doesn't know the meaning of crucifixion? The truly passionate supporters have suffered the indignity of being nailed up more than a few times.

The answer...

Which brings me back to my original question. Despite all the anguish and uncertainty, is it possible for me to leave my religion of choice? To provide an answer is akin to meaning of life stuff. Thus, it should be written that the best answer is to avoid the question altogether.

Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles

I have indeed witnessed first hand the joy of premiership victories - nothing compares. Alas, I have also sliently suffered the slings and arrows of despair. Equally, I have also taken the fight to those who dare question my system of belief. But at the end of the day, I have grown to accept that there are opposition league fans feeling the highs and lows of this very same roller coaster ride.

The answer...!

Let us first consider some of the religious icons of Rugby League: Len 'Deacon' Kelly, Father John Cootes, 'Lord Ted' Goodwin, 'The King' Wally Lewis, to name but a few. These are men of the jersey cloth, are they not there to be worshipped?

Well of course they are.

Anything else would be considered heresy.



|746 words|

Ref:
1. Pic from Monty Python's The Life of Brian.
2. First quote pinched from The Secret Life of the American Teenager ("There's an old Yiddish saying which, uh, changed a bit because I'm Irish: 'Whoever needs meat is a slave to the cow'").
3. Shakespeare from To be, or not to be (Hamlet).

 

[gorilla]

*gorilla stumbles forward, spraying snot and spittle and trailing toilet paper stuck to his sprigs*

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Gawd, I love a ‘toe-poker’ !

Now, none of yer sniggering jokes about www.footfetish.com , or even weirder questions about tic tac toe poker. I’m talking about the fine and lost art of place kicking for goal when the ovoid ball is struck at its smallest point by the point of the kicking foot’s toe.

Goal kickers in the modern rugby league game are blest with ergonometric boots that strike a sweet spot on a over-inflated, roundish oval ball, placed on a special tee set to a pre-determined kicker-specific height, after a hyper-parabolic, golf-style swing of the boot after an approach to the ball that leaves any skinny freaked-out high jumper using the ‘Fosbury Flop’ for absolute dead.

The old fashioned toe-pokers that I’m in awe of, essentially set the ball on the ground, with a little pile of scraped dirt and grass and then walked up and kicked the ball over and between the posts.

This was not as simple as it sounds.

First of all the ball was very different. The toe-poker ball was made of leather, not synthetic materials – it got wet and heavy and relied initially gut-based, then rubber inflatable inside. The modern ball is water-proof and inflatable as a piece – designed to being over-inflated so it bounces better than the old leather balls, and the damned thing is most likely also aerodynamically designed to float.

Next the boots. The older boot was leather like the modern boot, but what a difference ! The older boots had a single toe cap; round and hard, it was protuberant and not a smooth finish to the foot. This meant the very item you struck the ball with was bumpy and solid. It had to be to withstand the rigors of the older game but it was not ideal for striking the ball. The modern goal-kicker has a specially designed boot to match the need of the kicking.

Now, after all this the tricky bits.

The ball was generally placed on a small pile of scraped-up dirt and grass, sometimes preceded by the kicker digging his heel into the ground to make a small divot and a rise. The rise was shaped and the ball laid on it. In later years the lazy bastards had a little boy run on with a sand bucket to make a small pile, but that’s for pooves in my opinion. The laid ball was angled and directed toward the goals ready for striking.

It was common for the kicker to crouch and try and align the ball’s direction toward and between the posts. With that simple action, most would stand up, position their feet at strike point and walk back wards a few steps. They might pull up their socks if they had used string and not mum’s elastic, wipe their boots on their socked-calves, and walk in to strike the ball.

This striking was something special. After modern day players set their over-inflated, aerodynamic ball on the specially cut tee to a pre-determined flight curve angle, and after they measure out their little steps prior to their calculated little dancing-horse parabolic approaches, the modern kicker hits the ball with a broad sweep of their custom-designed boots – the widest part of their boot-toe (the upper instep). The older kickers hit the smallest part of an ugly ball with the smallest part of their ugly boots – and guess what ! The ball would fly “High enough, long enough, and straight between the posts”.

The smallest part of the ball with the smallest part of the boot.

An English import, John Gray (ex-Norths and Many-Warringah) introduced the ‘around-the-corner’ style in the late 1970’s – it hadn’t been seen much before and arose from the soccer football practices. Even then he placed the ball upright and kicked under the ball’s bottom quarter to raise it above the posts. The modern parabolic approach to a 45 degree laid ball stems from this introduction.

The older-style goal kickers were something special. Kickers like Eric Simms, Graham Langlands, Dave Brown, Harry Bath, Harold Horder and Clive Churchill has careers based on goal kicking - even Mal Meninga and Mick Cronin were toe pokers.

My only kick in a game was at Seifert Oval, mid 1970’s Monaro v. Southern Districts I lined up the toe-poke, remembered my old coach’s training (kick along the try line aiming at the goal posts side-on). I had the line and direction but not the height or the distance.

After all those years of practice, it fell short.
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750 words between the stars

 

[gorilla]

debelt-poest

 

[Bubbles]

Bubbles for Easts
____________________________

Rugby League Wheel of Fortune

Having spent the first half of my life in Victoria, I was a Rugby League virgin until the ripe old age of twenty-one when I relocated to Sydney. I will confess straight up that I didn’t take to the game for some seasons, having a Victorian’s inherent disdain for all footy codes outside of AFL. However, I’m happy to report that once it made its way into my bloodstream, as League tends to do, I was lost to the game.

Having not been born and bred into a particular club, I was in the unique position of actually choosing the team to which I would give my heart and this has led to the most common question I've been asked over the last seventeen years; “Why, of all clubs, why the Rorters... dear God, why?”

It’s one of those questions for which there really is no answer, at least not one to satisfy confused, enquiring minds. How do you know when you’re in love? Answer; you just do and this is how it was between me and my Chooks. From the very start it was destined to be a love affair that would last a lifetime, through the good and bad, through injuries, suspensions and off-field incidents - through thick and thin.

I think the events of this season clearly demonstrate that gone are the days of Rugby League dynasties, ala St. George of the 1960s, at least not without having to resort to blatant cheating, ala Storm. In the wake of summoning in the era of professional sport and restrictions such as the salary cap, we are left with a cyclic wheel upon which all clubs find themselves, like so many kids on a Ferris-wheel at the local carnival. And so we fans are carried along for the ride; all aboard the Rugby League Wheel of Fortune!!

When I first started upon my journey as a Rooster, we were not one of the dominating teams; sure we had the inevitable talk-up about the club’s chances with the signing of one Brad Fittler, but it was a side that spent a few seasons landed with the unfortunate and unenviable label of ‘under-achievers’. But click over into the new Century and not only did the world not collapse under the effects of the mythical KY2 bug, but the Roosters’ fortunes squashed themselves into cramped seats, lowered the safety rail and up they rose!

History will show that a purple patch for the red, white and blue ensued and while some may say that only one from four Premierships should, again, hand them the title of ‘under-achievers’, it was still a wild and beautiful ride with an awesome view from the top.

However, as Benjamin Franklin would tell you, what goes up, must come down and so it is on the Rugby League Wheel of Fortune and with the retirement of the great Freddy, the Wheel began its earth-bound spiralling plummet, eventually leading to the ultimate crash site that was 2009.

Any fan who has suffered through a year of nightmare proportions like the Easts’ stalwarts did last year; I feel for you, I truly do. I’m certain I’m no Christopher Columbus here, but the joy and distraction from life’s problems and woes that League brings to me has always felt rather like a gift. So, rather like the worst Christmas present I ever received as a child – a half chewed pencil and notepad, which included the grocery list of my two old spinster Aunts – five wins from twenty-six games was rather like being anally probed for six months (insert obvious Rooster snipe here – I know you’re thinking it!) and it was sweet relief when the curtain came down on 2009!

So 2010 reared its head and poking through the neck-opening created, appeared the wary and timid creature known as hope. My hope was to not be back to back wooden-spooners – check! My hope was to go the season without a Rooster player defecating in public – check, check! I hoped that we would rally up a double-digit winning record – check, check, check! What was beyond my wildest hope is that we would be sitting third on the NRL ladder with only five games to go in the season proper.

All my hopes have already been exceeded... dare I hope that the Wheel is on the ascent once more for the Chooks? Best buckle my seat belt... just in case!
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Word Count: 741

 

[Timmah]

Timmah | Bluebags



***
Larger than Life

In a sports fan's world, players are heroes. Larger than life. And in some ways, they probably are. Just imagine getting on a plane with someone like Shaquille O’Neal or Magic Johnson… in fact, hold that thought. You probably couldn’t – they’d no doubt have their own private jets, an entourage of security and a whole bunch of minders and hangers-on. Their faithful fans wouldn’t get near them.

As a rugby league fan, the closest you often get to the players is an autograph session or fan day, or worse still, the obligatory ‘clap toward the grandstand’ the players offer in appreciation after fulltime.

That’s why this week, I had a rare and quite refreshing opportunity to get just a tad closer to the players. By sheer coincidence, having flown to and attended the Broncos v Dragons game on Sunday, I boarded my flight home on Sunday night and lo & behold, the entire St George Illawarra team was seated alongside and behind myself and my ‘better half’.

It was quite refreshing to see that for the next hour and a half as we flew over the North Coast of NSW bound for Sydney, it never felt for a moment like we were in the presence of celebrities, although of course we were well aware who the blokes were that sat around us.

The entire flight was surreal. Some of the players spent their time reading, others listening to their iPods or playing with iPads or anything else that happened to be within their reach. Then there were the “class clowns”, having a bit of fun, playing tricks on each other, but all the while still respectful of those around them.

They were the sorts of games you'd expect to see in the back of school bus with your mates. The joke was on Trent Merrin most of the trip as the team seemingly conspired against him to hide his mobile phone from him. He had the last laugh though, as he took Peni Tagive's iPod as collateral, listening to it all the way home.

Then of course there was the class clown, none other than Mr. J. Soward. "Sowie" spent the bulk of the flight making jokes and being generally annoying - pretending to 'dob' on Merrin when he wouldn't turn his iPod off for the descent into Sydney, trying to tie his headphone cord around his neck and so on.

They did get their own back on little "Sowie" though - Peni was reading a copy of Inside Sport, which happened to have a four-page spread on Jamie and his career. When it became apparent there was a photo of Soward playing for the Roosters a few years ago, it was quickly used against him - and the team in turn laughed at him. He was ever-cool in his response to Peni, calmly stating that "you'll get there one day mate", referring to the fact he must be a star if there's a four-page spread of him in a magazine, regardless of which jersey he wore.

The rest of the team chatted and continued joking around - although some preferred to keep to themselves, again, just like you'd see on that school bus. Jarrod Saffy was a few rows in front, he even conducted conversation with some of the other people on the plane. With the media attention and continued scrutiny these guys come under, it was refreshing to see them in the most down-to-earth environment possible as a fan.

Something I noticed throughout the trip is that for the most part, few of the other passengers were fazed by the presence of these blokes – and the most pleasing aspect was that it didn’t seem to faze the airline staff either. The players received no real special treatment.

One comment from my girlfriend struck me after the experience – “they’re just people, aren’t they?”. As a Dragons fan, she herself had spent years in awe of these men. Blown away by their skill, and in some cases their looks too. Instead we were able to sit there, thoughts of the working week miles away as we enjoyed the company of a rugby league team who really are just human beings. Not heroes, not inaccessible – just people.

***

704 words between the lines

 

[Willow]

Reserve Time Keeper...

 

[The Piper]

ROOSTERS

adamkungl – Redemption – 749 words
From bottom to top in one season, momentum is building for the red, white and blue...
85

Non Terminator – 2 Dollar Scratchie Please – 730 words
Sounds like a good day all round. Descriptive piece. Happy birthday for last week!
86

Bubbles – Rugby League Wheel of Fortune - 741 words
Yes, but “Why, of all clubs, why the Rorters... dear God, why?” lol. Very nice story.
85

BLUEBAGS

Red Bear – Too Much To Ask? – 746 words
I don’t know how I’d take my club being kicked out of first grade...I think you have the right to be selfish!
86

Drew Sta – Natural Habitat – 738 words
A clever and original way to look at some of the upcoming matches.
85

Willow – The Meaning of Life – 746 words
Great incorporation of rugby league woven into some old tales. And when my team lose, I always like to sing, ‘Always Look on the Bright Side of Life’.
88

Gorilla – Gawd I love a toe poker! – 749 words
A well written article that was all about a crazy style of goal kicking, but kept me interested to the end.
87

Timmah – Larger than life – 704 words
The same experience has happened to me and the same realisation occurred to me on that trip, too. I liked this.
87

Bluebags 433 defeats Roosters 256

Player of the Match: Willow - 88

 

[Willow]

Thanks ref - love your work. :thumn

Congrats to my fellow baggers on a fine team effort.

Cheers to Easts and look forward to watching you strut your stuff for the rest of '10.

The semis are upon us!

 

[Non Terminator]

Kind of you to say Willow, but we've finished sixth so we aren't even in the finals. Chances are, this is the Roosters' not-so-glory farewell, unless a plethora of fans join the forums in the off-season.

Good luck in the semis, I'll be watching with interest.

 

[Willow]

Sorry NT, I thought you had enough for fifth.

I'm sure you'll be there in 2011. :thumn

 

[Bubbles]

Congrats to the Bluebags; always consistent, always a impressive - good luck in the finals' hope that they'll be an Easts side in 2011!!! Seriously impressive team - kudos to you!!!

 

[Non Terminator]

I really hope we'll be around in 2011. Bubbles, you and me have a lot of work to do.
Incidently, I am nearly 100% sure this will be my last game as captain. Maybe will be a future co-captain.

 

[Bubbles]

Whatever you need NT; am happy to help us much as I can. You've been a great captain and I know you've been a bit disheartened, but I'd love to see you hang on to the title and look to 2011 as a fresh start for the mighty Easts!!!