What's new
The Front Row Forums

Register a free account today to become a member of the world's largest Rugby League discussion forum! Once signed in, you'll be able to participate on this site by adding your own topics and posts, as well as connect with other members through your own private inbox!

Round 9 (2004) Eels v Panthers

Anonymous

Juniors
Messages
46
Parramatta Eels v Penrith Panthers

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.
Home team allowed one extra reserve.
Only original essays, not used in previous games, will be marked by referees.

Full Time: Wednesday 25th August, 2004. 9:00PM AEST (Sydney time)

Venue: Parramatta Stadium
ground_parra_1.jpg

Crowd: 12,900
REFEREE: Mystique

**Referee Blows Game On!**
nrl_ball_kickoff_1.jpg
 

maelgwnau

Juniors
Messages
677
The team for this round:

1. Paul-the-cowboy
2. Maelgwnau
3. Azkatro
4. Kingaroy Redant
5. [Furrycat]

6. Big Mick c
7. Savage Panther

This is it boys. Our season is on the line. You are the best 5 players I could imagine to help us.

Go out there and give it your all. I know you all will. Good Luck lads.
 

Vaealikis Girl

Juniors
Messages
351
The Eels team to line up against the Panthers:

2. PJ Marshal
3. ParraDaze
7. eels2win
10. Louis Lambert
11. Goleel

Reserves:
8. Colonel Eel
9. KING
4. Vaealikis Girl
 

The Engineers Room

First Grade
Messages
8,945
ParraDaze – Parramatta No.3

The Dream

I know that it’s a bit late for introductions. Posting typed words into cyber space allows little in the way of personal contact. I don’t know any of you and if we passed each other on the street we wouldn’t even know it. The only reason why I put my opinions out there for you all to read, and indeed the reason that many people read it is because we all share a common love for one thing, Rugby League.

I have tended to sink into the shadow regions of cyber space, to remain little known and often forgotten. This has mostly been by my own choice as I have tried not to allow myself to open up to a large group of strangers but I feel that it is appropriate at this stage to do so.

The important details are not that I am 24 years old or that I am a civil engineer or that I am married, those are the details you tell to a complete stranger that you are forced to speak to at a social function. I want to talk to you all about my love affair with Rugby League.

I grew up in Greystanes running around my backyard commentating on an imaginary game of rugby league going on in my head. In the early years I was David Sterling but as my fantasies developed I became an adult version of myself. At first I was a stocky yet fast centre that scored so many tries. At about 6 or 7, I suddenly realised my love of the halfback position. I would feed scrums, punt kick and score tries, passing to myself. The pergola and clothes line were defenders but mostly I was tackled by thin air. Anyone watching would have thought I had mental problems. I didn’t care what other people thought. I loved the smell of the fresh grass, the gentle sting of a warm spring morning and the soothing wind gusts. After running around for a while I would score a try and afterwards lie on my back watching the clouds and continuing the commentary and the action of the game in my head.

My knowledge of the six times table was so advanced that I could instantly tell anyone that 18 times 6 was 108. Parramatta often won 108-0 in the early years. As I grew older I realised that I needed a darker outlook on the exploits of Parramatta. I even surprised myself one day when Parramatta lost a game.

I began to attend games and play on the weekend but I always found time for the backyard because out there I could control everything. I began to kick goals using broom sticks as posts and this developed into my weekend playing. I became a very proficient goal kicker and used to practice at the park by kicking over the flying fox. By the time I was 15 I was my team’s regular goal kicker and kicked one in the grand final from the sideline. This was probably due to the amount of practice I had at this exact shot. After watching a game at Parramatta stadium in which a penalty kick after the siren would have tied the game but failed to go over I practised that shot at least 100 times at home.

My Rugby League career was not that great. I was a defensively orientated halfback that played all over the park. Whenever a coach would ask what position I played I would say utility (which meant just play me wherever you want). I won best and fairest in under 13’s and competed in an under 15’s grand final. I always enjoyed the game. After giving it away due to work and university commitments in 1999, I always miss playing. Funnily what I miss the most is being tackled.

I now post at this website and have just begun refereeing. It is great to see little kids with the glint in their eyes as I had and to know that this great game of ours can inspire so much passion and desire in these kids is truly something to treasure. I look back now on my backyard football and don’t regret not making grade but am happy with the amount of pleasure that Rugby League has given and will continue to give me.

Thankyou to everyone involved in Forum Sevens and I will continue to support this concept.

Long live Rugby League and Forum Sevens

750 words

P.S. Goodbye and Goodluck to you all
 

maelgwnau

Juniors
Messages
677
#2 Maelgwnau runs on the field to the cheer of all the panthers fans and gives a friendly wave.

SATTS’ MAGIC MOMENT
By Maelgwnau

There is nothing like a priceless moment. They are the ones that stand the test of time; set in stone in a dark chamber of the mind and always recalled so vividly. Like a bookmark in history, you never forget the minute details, and where you were when it happened.

Rugby League grand finals are littered with them. How can we forget the Benny Elias field goal attempt that thudded into the crossbar in the 1989 decider, when a few more inches skyward would have won Balmain the premiership?

There’s the John Ferguson try from the same game to keep the Raiders alive. Steve Gearin catching the bomb at full flight to score in 1980. Brett Kenny’s famous dummy to seal the Eels’ maiden title the following year. Royce Simmons and his two-try heroics of 1991. Andrew Johns’ bold magic to send Darren Albert streaking away in 1997. Jamie Ainscough’s ill-fated high tackle on Craig Smith that handed the Storm their maiden premiership in 1999.

Now we have another: the Scott Sattler tackle. No-one who watched the 2003 Telstra Premiership grand final will forget the wondrous spine-tingling seconds that immortalised Sattler and gave Penrith the momentum to secure the club’s second title with an awe-inspiring, critic defying 18–6 defeat of defending premiers and raging hot favourites Sydney Roosters.

The decider was 54 minutes old, and the match delicately poised at 6-6, when Sattler was virtually handed his – and indeed the Panthers’ death-or-glory moment.

The Penrith workhorse watched as teammate Ryan Girdler’s grubber kick cannoned into the hands of Brad Fittler. The Sydney skipper passed to winger Todd Byrne, who pushed off Luke Lewis, the set off down the eastern touchline of Telstra Stadium on a nerve-jangling 60-metre journey.

From the outset, even though he stumbled momentarily after Lewis fell off the tackle, Byrne looked to have the dash and headstart to get there. But Sattler, at 31 six years Byrne’s senior, chased, and chased, and chased, until he came within striking distance of the gangly winger. In driving rain, and with the weight of a district’s expectations resting on his shoulders, Sattler lunged, wrapped his arms around Byrne’s waist and momentum did the rest, sending the pair skidding across the touchline as an enthralled crowd of 81,166 either hollered with delight, or stood in disbelief at a moment that will grow in legend with each coat of nostalgia.

Of the thousands of tackles Sattler has made, this one best typified the man and his 12-year career.

“I wasn’t 100 per cent confident ‘Satts’ would make the tackle but I was very confident and relieved when he made it,” said Panthers coach John Lang after the win.

“Satts is actually quite quick and he’s determined. I would have been a bit shocked if he didn’t get him.”

Within seconds, Panthers team-mates arrived in a swarm around Sattler like moths to a flame. The tackle didn’t win them a premiership but it embodied the collective desperation of the Panthers, who simply out enthused the Roosters and more than not beat them to the punch. Few teams have gone into a decider as strongly favoured as the Roosters. The tale of the tape seemed to favour them. For a start, they were defending their crown. Twelve of their 17-man squad had played in a grand final, compared only Luke Priddis from the Panthers. Their coach Ricky Stuart, had won titles as a player and coach, while Penrith rival John Lang was considered the genial ‘bridesmaid’ at NRL level, having only tasted success in the Brisbane competition.

Defensively, it was to be no contest. The Roosters were the iron-fisted benchmark, Penrith expected to leak too many points under the duress of the all-or-nothing stakes of a grand final. But the coolness of Penrith’s start was ultra impressive for a side short on grand final experience.

All season, they had hear how the Roosters would destroy opponents in the early exchanges with their defensive intensity. So they formulated a simple game plan.

“We said they can bash us all they like, we just have to keep coming at them,” revealed Lang later. “They couldn’t do it all night.”

Now Scott Sattler has his own claim-to-fame, Lang his dues as coach and the Panthers visions of creating the dynasty the inaugural 1991 premiership side failed to establish.

As fairytales go, not even Hans Christian Anderson could have bettered this script.

Words: 741
 

Kingaroy Redant

Juniors
Messages
101
After a few satirical essays for the Panthers in earlier games it is time for th eAnt to get serious.

The Sad Story of Shopping Trolleys and NRL Players.

Why hasn’t this been written about before? The similarities in choosing a shopping trolley when doing the weekly grocery shop and the recruitment of players to fill an NRL roster is quite obvious me. I usually do the groceries shopping after work on Friday then come home, have a few beers and watch Friday Night Football. So I have set eyes on both the subjects of this essay within a relatively short space of time. Maybe that is why I see the connection. Then again, maybe it is the medication or lack of it.

Both subjects are affected by the micro-economical forces of supply and demand. When times are tough and the expendable dollars are short the not-so-nifty player has no bargaining power and will take what offer they get, But when dollars are available or when quality players have all gone to Rugby Yawnion or retired to write their memoirs the super-ordinary players can take advantage. On the other side of the coin when times are tough shopping trolleys lay idle, unwanted and inserted obscenely into their peers in a way that reminds me of photos of massive formation orgies I saw as a teen……….but I digress.

When money is freely available NRL clubs lash out on one season wonders that inevitable turn out to be duds with clubs and supporters having to overcome the dissatisfaction of post-purchase dissonance. Shopping trolleys also enjoy high demand for their services in high growth periods and get filled up with lots of those little something’s that weren’t on the list.

Another similarity between the dichotomies is the opportunity to test the product before a purchase commitment is made. The shopper is able to select several trolleys and do an alignment test by powerfully shoving the trolley up an isle hands free style. If the trolley obviously veers to one side taking out the elderly lady on the zimmer frame, then it can be discarded while another trolley is put through a similar test. The talent scout in the NRL is able to recruit potential players and corralle them into trial games outside the normal season. If the players don’t perform to expectations then they are set free to be picked up by another less discerning club.

Great care must be taken in this selection process as some subjects operate impressively under light load but go askew when the pressure is on. I bet you have all had a trolley that rolls straight until you put the 10 tins of Coopers Home Brew and the 12 kilograms of dog food in it. Then the beast comes into it’s own under a full load and starts misbehaving badly requiring a strong hand to keep them in line. NRL players can do they same, Justin Hodges’ State of Origin displays are an example that springs to mind. Not to mention Rhys Wesser.

The salary cap is also paralleled by the household grocery budget. The CEO needs to spend shrewdly in order to avoid a hefty fine for over stepping the salary cap, while a shopper who does not account for what they put in the trolley risks a bollocking from their spouse when the credit card bill arrives and they might end up in the dog house. Speaking of which, some NRL teams have been tempted in the past to wear very baggy clothing and try to smuggle some payments in order to keep within budget. We all know it goes on but if you they get caught, the penalties can be harsh.

Unfortunately the seedy side of life is present in both situations. Shopping Trolleys have been known to go missing without notice. They may be found in a derelict state, under bridges or abandoned outside squalid establishments after a big night out. Certain NRL players have the exact same problems. Andrew Walker and Justin Hodges are just two examples or recalcitrant players that have a history of joyrides.

The streets are littered with used derelicts players and trolleys. The has-bens, the coulda- beens, the mung beans and the canned beans all mixed up together in the cess pool of life. I wish you all the best at you next grocery shop and hope you choose a Test standard trolley rather than a country reserve grade one. Not that there is anything wrong with country reserve grade, especially out Kingaroy way. Do you know how hard it is to put a jersey on one of those trolleys?........................................................................ Nurse, it is time for my dose.

750 words on the knocker.
 

Paul-The-Cowboy

Juniors
Messages
557
#1 Penrith Panthers. bob on 750 words (including title)

__________________________

Living the dream

“Garters? Check.
Shoulder pads? Check.
Gum shield? Check
Shower ge.....Shit, forget it, I’m late!”

Like many whippersnappers , it doesn’t matter how important an occasion it is, or what time in the day and week it may fall, I am never on time and always in a rush to get out the door. Whether it be for a date, college, or in this case, a footy game this Sunday afternoon.

The next part of this particular day is somewhat of a daze. I spent most of the journey to the ground in a bit of a daydream, thinking about what I was going to do and how the day will pan out, recalling the faith that Coach had when telling me I was starting. It still hadn’t completely sunk in. And if I didn’t start paying more attention to the road, it wouldn’t have the chance nor time to sink in!

I did arrive – safe, sound and in one piece and got straight out onto the pitch to soak up the atmosphere. Of course, this wasn’t any old game of footy. This was my first shot at first grade. Everything seemed so surreal. Walking around the ground with the likes of Sculthorpe, Wellens and Joynt. Blokes whose names I had chanted and games I had studied over the years. We go back inside and make our way to the sheds. It’s 30 minutes till kick off and nothing can beat the feelings of excitement, pride and sense of achievement that I have sitting there as we change into our warming up gear.

The ground was filling up nicely and I couldn’t wait to get back outside to hear the roar from the crowd and the chant of “Sintellens” go up, to see the mass of white shirts with the big red vee, and to hear the screams of school children, dreaming that one day it would be them running out for their team.

It was so overwhelming. So unbelievable. I’m 17 years old. What am I doing playing Super League? I’ve never been quite good enough. Then as the roars and cheers become fainter and fainter and the distant noise of traffic and footsteps becomes louder and louder, it all becomes clear.

So I just stand there, soaking everything up and milking every single moment for its worth. I take one last look at the guys and the sun beaming around the stadium and then wait…waiting in a horrible limbo where there is no fact and there is no fiction…waiting for…

“Paul! Paul! You planning on getting outta bed today, ya lazy bum?!”

I sit up and take in a bizarre night’s sleep, “Hmmm, well I haven’t dreamt anything like that in a while. Didn’t even get any gametime this time. I wonder what it.....Shit, forget it, I’m late!”

You see, nothing ever changes, whether it be at my rain soaked home or in my wildest dreams, I’m never on time.

I allow myself a quick wash and rush to get to work on time. The journey there is actually not too dissimilar to the one in my dream in that I spent most of the time in a daze. This time, digesting every single detail in my dream. I did not feel old enough nor mature enough nor brave enough to be out there.

Which then really brought home the achievements of a young man on Friday night. He too, found out the day before the game that he would be making his first grade debut, he too walked around the pitch with some of the best players in Super League and he too, saw the flags and jerseys, heard the chants and roars and felt the screams of dreaming schoolchildren.

But his dream went beyond 30 minutes before the game. He played the match and did so with strong defence, a good passing game, a maturity and compusure beyond his years, and pieces of awareness and brilliance that saw him turn defence into attack and threaten the Wigan defensive line on many occasions.

And when he woke up on Saturday morning, he had the aches and bruises to reassure him that it was no dream.

He will pick up his exam results this week and be the talk of his high school. For not only did he leave a mark on all who watched that game but also in the record books:

Youngest ever Super League debutant - Scott Moore, 16 years, 213 days old.
 

Goleel

Juniors
Messages
864
Gol pulls on the blue and gold #11 for the last time this season and runs onto the field to end the Panthers dream (hopefully by 0.1)

===

When It's Gone...And When It's Not

Even if you see the writing on the wall weeks in advance, knowing that your season is over, that you are no longer a chance to take part in the post season, hits you like a tonne of bricks. You have nothing to play for, no incentive other than your own pride to put in your best performance, knowing that you have already failed for the season, that your effort doesn’t really matter. Seeing how difficult I have found it this past week to ‘get myself up’ for what is the Eels last game of the forum sevens season, knowing that we can’t make the finals, and have nothing to play for, I am beginning to understand why cellar dwelling clubs just cash in their chips towards the end of the year and have blow-out scores rattled up against them as the big guns of the competition flex their muscles on those essentially showing up because they have to.

What I can’t understand, is how you can do the same and throw in the towel, when your chances are still alive and kicking. Welcome to the Parramatta Eels 2004.

I can accept my team losing; lord knows I’ve grown accustomed to it over the last three seasons, not to mention the very lean early 90’s period of Crnkovich, Galbraith, Oudenryn and Erickson, so losing games doesn’t bother me. What I can’t cop, is the way the team simply rolled over and died when in the thick of it, and now, with all but the most deluded of Eels fans still banking on their chances to make the eight, they make a late run for the finals, while seemingly playing for their pride. Where was that pride when the competition was up for grabs? What the heck happened to them?

The season is summed up nicely by a 37-6 Friday night loss to the Dragons, who had all of five regular first graders in their 17. The effort that night put in by the blue and gold was nothing short of disgraceful. It was followed by a similarly embarrassing 33-6 loss to the Tigers, then after two encouraging wins, we fall back to a 26-16 loss to a Panthers side missing their regular halves combination, and a 20-10 collapse against the Warriors, in one of the dourest games of the season. Then my personal favourite, after coming out of nowhere to shock the Roosters 26-12 in round 18, they follow up what should have been a season turning victory with a 28-6 capitulation to the Cowboys to effectively end the season, a fact compounded by a heartbreaking last second loss to Melbourne then another ‘roll over and die’ effort against the Tigers.

Which brings us to round 25. Even coach Brian Smith has by now admitted his side’s chances of finals football are non-existent, so what does his team do? They come up with two cracking wins, one severely denting the Sharks finals aspirations, and both impressive for the Eels new found ability to score points. With only pride on the line, where did this come from? Is pride really a bigger motivational factor than keeping your season alive? Did the team have no pride against the Cowboys, to lose all momentum they had after beating the premiership leaders, by throwing it all in and playing like they had nothing to gain from victory?

It frustrates fans, coaches and no doubt the players themselves. Why do some teams struggle to pull out their best each and every week, and particularly when the added importance of keeping your season alive is at stake? It just doesn’t make sense. Perhaps a sense of pride should be instilled into all teams, each and every week, because it seems the only time players truly realise they are playing for pride each and every time they pull on their teams jersey, is when there is nothing else left for them to play for. Which isn’t something to be proud about.

===
 

PJ Marshal

Coach
Messages
13,525
Retro - Back in Fashion
--------------------------------
With the upcoming Retro week in the NRL, I thought that I’d dedicate this article to what I believe made Rugby League in the 80’s so fashionable. Although I missed out on seeing the 80’s in all its glory, having being born in 1986, I have since found videos, magazines, newspaper clippings and plenty of other nostalgia to educate me to a level where I can say, “Well I was there…Almost!”

The number one thing that appealed to me the most about the 80’s was, of course, the Parramatta Eels. Due to that appeal I’m now a part of the new generation of Blue and Gold supporters. Seeing Parra ripping teams apart with cleverly created moves from our amazing halves combination in Kenny and Sterling was breathtaking. These moves were finished off by the likes of Grothe, Ella and Cronin. Up front laying the platform was a tireless forward pack, which included names such as Price, Edge, O’Reilly and Wynn. The Electric Eels were truly a phenomenal sight for any league fan and their skills were rewarded with 4 premierships in 81, 82, 83 and 86.

There was no greater spectacle in the game then watching two team’s bash the living hell out of each other. Maybe it’s the Reg Reagan in me or maybe I’m just a sadist, but I get a special feeling every time I see grown men inflicting pain on each other. That’s why blokes like Boyd, Kelly, Donnelly and company were all highly rated thugs in my eyes. These guys took biffing to a new level with their majestic array of cheap shots and penchant for foul play. I’m amazed some of these guys weren’t approached by Vince to take up professional wrestling instead. Les “The Brain Buster” Boyd could have been bigger than Hulk Hogan!

The foundation of State of Origin was laid in the eighties. “The King” Wally Lewis led his army of maroon into battle against the sworn southern enemy dressed in sky blue. The old “mate against mate” saying was more than apt in those days, players like Cleal and Vautin facing each other on Wednesday and then battling for each other come Sunday. State of Origin, in my eyes, is the pinnacle of Rugby League and in the 80’s it was as good as you could get. Origin was fuelled with passion, blood, sweat and tears and had the trade mark brawls that everyone had come to see, often more so than the game. You can sum up State of Origin in the 80’s in 3 simple words, LEWIS, WAR and GLORY.

How can you not talk about the 80’s without making reference to one of the most celebrated hairstyles of all time? The Mullet (Party at the back and strictly business on the top) was a hairstyle that Rugby League player warmed too and got behind wholeheartedly. Blokes like Gary Freeman and Kerry Helmsey, two Balmain boys, had two of the greatest mullets ever seen on the League field. The hairstyle got Balmain to back to back grand finals in 88 and 89 but due to their poor maintenance of said style they lost on both occasions. Blokes like Sterlo, who had an “Almost Mullet”, maintained and looked after their awesome hairstyle. Look where it got him and Price - 4 Premierships, legendary status and baldness by 40!

How much more retro can you get then the old leather footy? It symbolised old school football in its oval leathery shape. Looks at what the pansies of today are using now - synthetic, lace less footballs with a surface made for grip all across the ball. How much bloody easier can you make the game of footy now? Even with all these modifications somehow these pro’s still find ways to drop them cold. I’d cringe to see what they would do with a leather ball. The leather ball, once wet from sweat or rain, was so slippery that it took every ounce of a player’s skill, strength and mental power to hold onto. Players in the 80’s and even further back could do it no sweat. The ball also had a great camouflage mechanism, seeing as it was brown when you got your spectacular mud bath games the ball would become almost invisible. Players would spend up to 40 minutes trying to find it, hence the low score lines back in the 80’s!

So there you go, the 80’s, could it get any better?

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

749 Words
 

eloquentEEL

First Grade
Messages
8,065
-> eels2win – helping drive the Eels "home" in the late stages of the match <-

Homeward Bound

Homeward bound
I wish I was
Homeward bound

League players trying new things (new club/new country/new code), only to return home, is nothing new. Harold Horder played for Souths in 1912-9 and Norths in 1920-3, returning to Souths in 1924. Making similar movements was Kangaroo Cec Blinkhorn, starting with Norths in 1914-8, before moving to play alongside Horder at Souths, Norths & Souths again over the next 6 seasons.

Over the last few seasons, there has been a lot of homeward bound activity in the NRL. Blacklock has returned to St George from Union. Haumono has returned to Manly from boxing. Jason Smith and Matt Adamson are returning to Australia from England. Thorman is returning to England from Australia. Wiki is returning to his homeland, while PJ Marsh has already returned to Sydney (rumours suggest both he and Daniel Anderson will be back in the Blue and Gold). Grothe Jnr and Wade McKinnon returned home to the Eels, as will Chad Robinson. Terry Hill returned, first to Wests, and then to where it all began at Souths. Brett Hodgson returned to Wests. Noel Cleal went back to Manly and Jamie Lyon home to Wee Waa. Hodges will return to Brisbane and Dykes to Cronulla. Of course, this is just a sample of the Homeward Bound movement.

There are a number of reasons to be homeward bound. Some do it to help out a mate, eg. Langer, Smith, Ikin and Green all coming "home" out of NRL retirement, to help out Wayne Bennett; or Noel Cleal coming home to Manly, to help out his mate Des Hasler.

Home, where my thought's escaping
Home, where my music's playing
Home, where my love lies waiting
Silently for me

Brett Hodgson did very well at the Eels for a while, but the end of 2002-3 saw mediocre performances from Hodgo. Like the chicken and the egg, it's hard to tell if he was thinking about returning home, leading to mediocre performances; or whether he felt he was just going through the motions, making him long for home.

Tonight I'll sing my songs again
I'll play the game and pretend
But all my words come back to me
In shades of mediocrity
Like emptiness in harmony
I need someone to comfort me

When I think of Dykes, I think of a piercing gone horribly wrong. He was a shiny Dally M 5/8 of the year, but when he was injected into the Eels backline, it seemed that he was rejected like a tongue piercing that the body doesn't accept, getting slowly forced out and leaving behind a forked tongue (as evidenced by the Eels' lack of talk on the field). After being reportedly told to "make your own f---ing way home" following his attitude at Newcastle last year, the offseason saw this foreign object melted down and moulded into a new piercing.

It was a big gamble inserting him as a Prince Albert, into the main attacking thrust of the team at halfback. After a few months this foreign matter has been rejected once more, and this time was much more painful. Dykes' style just never seemed to fit with the Eels. There was certainly emptiness in harmony, and his return home to the Sharks is in everyone's best interests.

Jamie Lyon is what Simon & Garfunkel's song is all about. Here is a guy who's been on the road since age 15, travelling up and down the East Coast and overseas, being adored by fans like a rock star. There is little wonder that he'd eventually start to just play the game and pretend. Wee Waa, where his thought's escaping. Round 1 he played in shades of mediocrity. Wee Waa, where his loves (family & pig shooting) lie waiting.

He's had his stint at home and will play in England the next two years, but I don't think it will be that long until he wishes he was homeward bound again. They say "home is where the heart is", and that works both ways. Most fans are willing to forgive past indiscretions and welcome home their favourite sons. If Jamie decides to return to the Eels after his time in England, I'm sure there would be many fans that would be happy to have him back, even though it certainly doesn't feel like it right now.

eels2win said:
Homeward bound
I hope PJ Marsh is
Homeward bound

-> 748 words <-

References:
Adams, T. The Rugby League Quiz Book
Garfunkel, A. & Simon, P. Homeward Bound
 

Louis Lambert

Juniors
Messages
33
Louis Lambert for the Eels
--

Too Much Information

Nightmare. That single word that sums up the Origin debut of Justin Hodges. His selection for game two, by virtue of Clinton Schifcofske’s wooden performance in the opening game of the 2002 series, was seen another shrewd investment in the Maroons myth. Unfortunately for Queensland selectors, the leap of faith shown by selecting Hodges was not repaid in kind. Two risky and inexact in-goal passes from the debutant resulted in NSW tries.

In sporting vernacular, Hodges choked -- a condition that is neither new nor uncommon and that has befallen others before him and undoubtedly more in the future. Starry-eyed cynics of the game are often quick to vilify a player for, to use another sporting idiom, a brain explosion, yet fail to realise these occurrences are likely to become more common and are already evident in our daily lives.

It’s called information overload. To psychologists, it’s Information Fatigue Syndrome. Outlined in Toffler’s seminal Future Shock, “cognitive overstimulation interferes with our ability to think”. As Bridget Murray says in the American Psychological Association Monitor, “The fast flow of facts motivates people to a point, but once it pushes past a critical threshold, their brains rebel.” In Hodges’ case, his perception and reasoning went beyond breaking point. Doubtless advice and oratory would have been passed onto Hodges before kick-off. Add to that the requirements of coaching staff, personal expectations, and the frenzied cries of the 47, 989 that packed into ANZ Stadium that night and it is easy to see why Queensland’s winger came to grief.

Players, like Hodges, will find it increasingly difficult to cope with information overload. This is a far cry from rugby league 20 years ago where the crude approach to preparation meant that, come game day, premiership matches were played with a kind of romanticism. As more advanced computer processing technology is developed and computer-based systems become less expensive, NRL clubs will find it tempting to invest in refined statistical software and calculators. As it stands, all employ in-house statisticians and, as well as this, some even purchase data from relevant data collection companies. Therefore, head coaches are able to form endless combinations and permutations of data to any extreme. When the Brian Smith-coached Parramatta swept all before them in the 2001 NRL premiership, much was spoken about the Eels technical programme and its apparent strength in relation to other NRL clubs. Of no surprise was the intensity required of players under Smith. In one training component, each player was given a different series of numbers to commit to memory. When fatigued or pressured, they were then compelled to recall the series – or its reverse – on cue. If this exercise is in any way symptomatic of the demands placed on Eels players, it is not unreasonable to offer the information overload theory as an explanation for their downward spiral and the mass exodus of talented players from the Club.

In the cult film Pi, tormented genius Max Cohen's pursuit of a ruling number pattern sees him spiral into lunacy. Like Cohen, NRL coaches ought to be wary of a dependency on information. There are elements of sport that cannot be predicted regardless of what information is collected. That is what makes sport so appealing. Hollywood actor Michael Douglas once said doesn’t watch film, but prefers sport because he can never predict what is about to unfold.

Referees, the rugby league fan’s anathema, appear to succumb to information overload regularly. Odd, often flawed, interpretations of what is an essentially simple game could be taken as evidence. Armed with whistle and ho-hum disposition, they are confronted with ruling on the legitimacy of tide-turning tries, dab hand decoy runs, and teeth-trashing tackles. If we are to consider the level of stimulation they are exposed to, the governance of them may be doing more harm than good.

They have to rely not on their own interpretation of a game, but the instructions from officialdom, the manipulations of talkative players, and beer-fuelled invective being hurled from the outer, reflecting off the stadium architecture, and taking the form of a primitive lust to see the referee pulled apart by horses and chain.

“Information overload is a reflection of that almost genetic historic desire to do more,” says Irish author Gerry McGovern. If we are to believe that, we should also believe that players, coaches, and officials should control the information before the information controls them.
 

[furrycat]

Coach
Messages
18,827
[furrycat] Dances onto the field with a glimmer of hope in his eye for the
Penrith Panthers

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

The Tough Times for Sonny Bill Williams

Foreword: I was lucky enough to have a conversation with Bulldogs teenage superstar, Sonny Bill Williams, during the infamous Coffs Harbour investigations, and a few months after the Director of Public Prosecutions, Nicholas Cowdery Q.C, stated that there was insufficient evidence to charge any of the players. This article has been designed to show the public the mixed emotions that were felt by Sonny Bill Williams and his team-mates during the toughest time as his career.

Diary Entry: April 4th 2004
Fearful…Confusion…Perplexed The ecstasy of being a professional footballer is all but a distant reminiscence for me and the boys. I can’t even walk up the street to buy a bottle of milk. I look around… and I see the judgemental eyes of the mysterious public entity. Ogling… mocking… Whispering secrets to one another.

”What are they whispering about?” I think to myself. What are they thinking? Are they secretly labelling me a criminal, or a filthy animal? There was always the odd bystander who would make their thoughts heard by shouting out,

”Go back to gaol you rapist!”. I’d stand on the street speechless, pondering on the thought of replying to them.

”Maybe they aren’t talking about me… Maybe it’s that strange guy standing next to me” Yeah right, and maybe if I eat enough coconuts, I’ll turn into one. The insensitive and unsympathetic truth smothers my hopes, and people are labelling me without truly knowing who I am.

”You Dirty Rapist!”…”Get back to Canterbury you filthy criminal” That’s not my name… My name is Sonny Bill Williams, and that’s not who I am. But of course, I’m a Bulldogs player. No matter where I was on the night in question, I’m automatically a rapist because I wear the blue and white jersey… I walk down to the shops, and notice the headline

”BULLDOGS PLAYERS ACCUSED OF BRUTAL RAPE”.

And sure enough, a picture of the boys and me plastered on the front page. It doesn’t stop there though, the media continues to tarnish our names by mentioning preceding discrepancies. Why don’t they talk about our recent charity work? Why is no mention made of some of the good things we have done? All they want to do, is label us criminals and make a good headline, even if it means causing problems for innocent players such as myself. Whatever happened to “Innocent until proven guilty”?... Well thanks to the media, that cliché now appears to be “Innocent, unless you play for the Canterbury Bulldogs”.

Liberated… Peaceful…Harmonious. This is how I used to feel as I ran onto a field to take on a fired up opposing team. Making that first step into the ecstatic and euphoric stadium… The smell of the freshly laid turf… And the illustrious sounds of your supporters cheering you on, helping us get over the line. You feel as free as a bird… But now I feel as constricted and constrained as an animal being caged and removed from their natural habitat. The constant taunting that I was subjected to on the street did not stay on the street; it was here on the field too. Fans from the opposition throwing projectiles at us, shouting the now overworked taunt of ”Filthy Rapists!”. What am I supposed to do? I try to stand tall with the rest of the boys, trying to appear as if these taunts were not affecting us. But each insult and goad being fired upon us was like a dagger stabbing into my brittle psyche and soul.

”This just isn’t cricket…It’ll all go away soon” I tell myself this everyday, hoping that we will be finally vindicated. But when will it all stop? I’ll always be characterised as the young gun for the troubled club. Sonny Bill, the criminal… Sonny Bill, the rapist… That is not who I am. All I’ve ever wanted to do is play professional football. But the past few months have made me question my ability to continue playing. I ask myself everyday,
”Is it really worth all this?”
”Why do I even bother?”
But I know the answer to this…

A Team… United we stand, divided we fall. I’m in a club that has a great coach, and a great bunch of guys. We’ve never once questioned the credibility of each other, and we’ll always stand tall as a unit… a team… I am Sonny Bill Williams… We are The Canterbury Bulldogs.
”United we stand, We will NEVER Fall”
------------------------------------------------------------
750 Words between the lines

Edited at 8:16pm
 

Azkatro

First Grade
Messages
6,905
Azkatro posting for the Panthers

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

Here come the tabloids

League players deserve more leniency for their actions, according to forum personality Azkatro.

In what has arguably been the most turbulent year in the history of rugby league in Australia, players have been scrutinised to the “nth” degree for any discrepancies.

In an emotional phone call to the “Fair Go” segment of Seven’s Today Tonight television program last night, Azkatro described what he thought was not a slackening off in the behaviour of league players, but more an increased pressure placed on athletes by the success-ravenous Australian media.

He went on to say that if the treatment of league players this year isn’t enough evidence of what today’s professional athlete is forced to endure, then the recent events of the Olympic Games is surely the icing on the cake.

“There’s only one thing [the media] latch onto more than an Aussie gold medal, and that’s a scandal,” he said.

Over the course of the Athens games, Australians have been bombarded with tales of Jana Pittman's miracle recovery, our continued success in swimming events and the dramas surrounding Sally Robbins and the women's rowing team.

It's no secret that the biggest headlines come when there's a gold medal involved for our athletes. Or alternatively, an athlete that was supposed to win a gold medal in their event but failed to.

And the same goes for rugby league. The casual league fan might have read about names like Andrew Johns, Brad Fittler or Darren Lockyer in the papers, because they are so successful. They might also recognise names such as Willie Mason, Justin Hodges or Danny Williams – but instead associate them with notoriety.

So why is this the case? Put simply, it’s a question of supply and demand.

The demand comes from the public. The ones that buy the papers, watch television and listen to the radio. The supply is provided by the media.

That’s it in a nutshell, anyway.

But the Australian public is an interesting beast when it comes to the topic of demand. We are a young country. Perhaps our greatest trademark in modern times is our success in sporting events, and we’re a long way from all the action and excitement in the northern hemisphere.

So in a sense we feel like we’re out here on our own.

But instead of peacefully going about our business, we want to make sure we can do everything within our power to be noticed across the world.

And our way of doing that is by beating everybody else at sports. Nothing gives us more satisfaction than being the best.

It’s that pleasure that’s given Australians an absolutely insatiable desire for success. Anything less is uninteresting. And if somebody’s actions make a mockery of that dream, they’re hung out to dry.

Azkatro suggested that maybe we’re going a little too far nowadays.

“You could relate all the sports headlines these days to one of two reactions. You’re supposed to either read it and nod in approval, or shake your head in disgust. There’s no in between.

“Rugby league used to be a game for the people, but this year in particular has really made me wonder. Is it being turned into a game for the headlines?”

Concerned journalists have slammed Azkatro, saying that his comments are those of a paranoid conspiracy theorist. They claim they are merely reporting the facts at hand for those who want to stay up on current events.

Others have said that the upward trend in sensationalism is a direct consequence of the increased profile the game now enjoys, based on factors like expansion, professionalism and heightened cash flow.

Regardless of which way you view it, the bottom line is that rugby league is now a sport that creates headlines.

“Yeah I don’t think we can really get away from it anymore. It’s just a shame that league has had so many negative headlines lately.

“But consider the tabloid perspective – to the mainstream, league is seen in a bad light. So when something especially good happens, it’ll hit the other end of the spectrum. People will want to read about the bad sport cleaning up its act. Or something like that.”

The show’s producers controversially cut Azkatro’s phone call short, however, when he seemingly made a startling revelation on air.

“Actually why am I telling you all this? Today Tonight is a vehicle for the kind of crap I’m opposed to.”

The program was quickly taken to a commercial break.

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

747 words. Liftoff!
 
Top