Loudstrat
Coach
- Messages
- 15,224
Im sick of the roughly 400 first grade players - the overwhelming majority who are hard working, honest, decent community minded young men - annually being tarnished by a handful of wankers who play their lives out in the press, acting as some sort of sad pariahs when in fact they are just ego-filled wankers. It seems that any player blessed with above average talent struggles to deal with the praise and adoration that comes there way.
Benji Marshall - a penny bunger who fizzles brightly on increasingly rare occasions - blames his coach, his club for renegging on a deal or even the trainer putting the cones out the wrong way - on him playing with less creativity than a lobotomised 4 year old with crayons. His response - sitting in a Yawnion jumper sticking it up to his legion of fans and telling his club - who developed him and made him famous - and their supporters to f*ck off.
Ben Barba - regardless of the background behind how it happened - crying the bleeding tears of a father losing access to his young kids after one and a half seasons of great form, and deciding that the only possible path to his life is a Broncos contract, simply so he can be with his kids. Despite everything they have put into him, and going against the grain of their win-at-all-costs ethic that built the club - were willing to let the future of their club go. Then, suddenly, lovesick Dad demands a marquee contract despite his new club having more No. 1's than the Beatles.
Anthony Milford, a gun talent in a club seemingly developing them with ease, seeks compassionate transfer to Brisbane to be with his ill father, backed by a manager playing the sob story out in the media better than a Danielle Steele novel. The SNAGS in all of us bought it, backed by teary wives hoping he makes the journey to his fathers bedside to say their teary farewell. Problem is that the old man has spent a few weeks living with him in Canberra, and the Broncos ave tabled a contract bigger than Barba's asking price.
Blake Ferguson, who left Cronulla in a dignified fashion that would make the worst Shark hating troll on LU blush, suddenly wants out of Canberra - the club that took him from the scrapheap and made him an Origin player in an era of quality NSW threequarters. The problem is they dumped his playmate and he left for Kogarah, ACT. The realisation that his teammates thought he was a f*cktard suddenly hit, and his only supporter, the coach that he publicly shafted, has now lot his job - seemingly due to his support of Fergo. That aint it. His uncle has been told to f*ck off as manager, in favour of his cousin - who despite the fitness and no grog lifestyle, is as healthy as a surf contest at f**kishima Beach to a young mind. The latest is that Fergo either wants to return to Cronulla - presumably to clean up the bile he left, join the Roosters (and link up with fellow anti-loyalist SBW), or jag a one year deal somewhere and presumably f*ck off to Union, via a few boxing tournaments against geriatrics who struggle to stand without a walking frame. All this while conducting some strange religion that requires one to greet females by touching their fanny.
I am sick of these overrated tossers. The problem is, who is to blame? All hd great media praise, that had to propogate inflated self esteem. This probably was duplicated inside the club, as it obviously has with the fans.
My question is this - what in their lives do these four f*ckwits lack that the real superstars and high achievers in our game who generally conduct themselves with dignity have?
Benji Marshall - a penny bunger who fizzles brightly on increasingly rare occasions - blames his coach, his club for renegging on a deal or even the trainer putting the cones out the wrong way - on him playing with less creativity than a lobotomised 4 year old with crayons. His response - sitting in a Yawnion jumper sticking it up to his legion of fans and telling his club - who developed him and made him famous - and their supporters to f*ck off.
Ben Barba - regardless of the background behind how it happened - crying the bleeding tears of a father losing access to his young kids after one and a half seasons of great form, and deciding that the only possible path to his life is a Broncos contract, simply so he can be with his kids. Despite everything they have put into him, and going against the grain of their win-at-all-costs ethic that built the club - were willing to let the future of their club go. Then, suddenly, lovesick Dad demands a marquee contract despite his new club having more No. 1's than the Beatles.
Anthony Milford, a gun talent in a club seemingly developing them with ease, seeks compassionate transfer to Brisbane to be with his ill father, backed by a manager playing the sob story out in the media better than a Danielle Steele novel. The SNAGS in all of us bought it, backed by teary wives hoping he makes the journey to his fathers bedside to say their teary farewell. Problem is that the old man has spent a few weeks living with him in Canberra, and the Broncos ave tabled a contract bigger than Barba's asking price.
Blake Ferguson, who left Cronulla in a dignified fashion that would make the worst Shark hating troll on LU blush, suddenly wants out of Canberra - the club that took him from the scrapheap and made him an Origin player in an era of quality NSW threequarters. The problem is they dumped his playmate and he left for Kogarah, ACT. The realisation that his teammates thought he was a f*cktard suddenly hit, and his only supporter, the coach that he publicly shafted, has now lot his job - seemingly due to his support of Fergo. That aint it. His uncle has been told to f*ck off as manager, in favour of his cousin - who despite the fitness and no grog lifestyle, is as healthy as a surf contest at f**kishima Beach to a young mind. The latest is that Fergo either wants to return to Cronulla - presumably to clean up the bile he left, join the Roosters (and link up with fellow anti-loyalist SBW), or jag a one year deal somewhere and presumably f*ck off to Union, via a few boxing tournaments against geriatrics who struggle to stand without a walking frame. All this while conducting some strange religion that requires one to greet females by touching their fanny.
I am sick of these overrated tossers. The problem is, who is to blame? All hd great media praise, that had to propogate inflated self esteem. This probably was duplicated inside the club, as it obviously has with the fans.
My question is this - what in their lives do these four f*ckwits lack that the real superstars and high achievers in our game who generally conduct themselves with dignity have?
Last edited:
