an old fashioned stink

Bleacherists,

Said it before, say it again, there is no finer sight in world sport than running rugby league, and no finer place to have a look at it than Leichhardt Oval.
Couldn’t live with myself if one pilgrimage to the Spiritual Home of Balmain Rugby League this season went begging, so got on the 445 bus to the 2005 Grand Final re-match.
A good crowd in, and as usual, the place was “dripping with atmosphere”
Things did not auger well from the off, with the Tiges conceding a very soft Cowboys try within the opening 45 seconds of the match.
As things began to look grimer, it was fabulous to see an old fashioned stink in the scrum, right in front of me too!
Just like the glory days.
Farah took exception being worked over by his opposite number Anthony Watts in the front row, and broke up the scrum to complain to the Bamford, who ignored him and repacked the scrum, whereupon Robbie took the law into his own hands and began giving Watts a bit of his own medicine; the scrum blew up into a massive stink with Farah and Watts going toe to toe, Farah getting in a couple of good left jabs before felling the hapless Cowboy with a massive right hook, that had him out cold with Farah standing over him, screaming, a-la-Ali.
The crowd, including me of course, went absolutely apeshit.
When the dust settled, the Bamford sent Watts to the sin bin for ten minutes for starting the stink, and then marched Farah off as well for going on with it.
At least the Monday morning league justice system got it right, rubbing Watts out for two matches for being an utter idiot, while the Best Leb in the Game got off scot free!!
After the game, Farah was asked on interview what prompted the stink, to which he replied “I’ve got no idea, mate”.
Obviously subscribes to the school of thought which suggests rugby league and gratuitous violence go like a hand in a glove.
From that moment on, the North Queenslanders were done like a dinner, and the match was never in doubt.
The Human Wrecking Ball scored his customary try much to the delight of the punters, while the try scoring freak Lawrence latched onto a ball that had gone through half a dozen sets of hands before sprinting Ben Johnson-like over 70 metres to plant the ball under the black dot
Something happened almost every time Benii touched the ball, and he ended up a deserved man of the match, with his trademark jink and step opening the Tigers’ account on the scoreboard.
After the break, the Balmain forwards appeared to be powered by the groundsman’s steamroller, crushing everything in their path, with Farah only emphasizing their complete dominance when he strolled over the line untouched late in the game to put the fruit on the sideboard.
At half time, found myself standing behind a bloke in a beer queue who had a young boy, perhaps two years old, in his arms who said something to which his father replied ”no son, were not at the cricket now. We are at the rugby league. See that inflatable Tiger over there? Grrrr, Tigers, that means we are at the rugby league”.
The kiddie nodded his head, but still had a very puzzled look on his face.
Leichhardt, surely, must now be the only football ground in the world still selling ice cold beer in unopened cans at five bucks a throw.
As always, bar staff couldn’t be bothered with silly little plastic cups or fistfuls of worthless coins.
Stumbling back to the bus stop after the game, pleasantly surprised to see the lights on in The Orange Grove Hotel, which was boarded up a few months ago amid fears that it would become yet another anonymous apartment block, but lo and behold, the joint has been reincarnated into – a pub.
Of course, they have stripped all the character out of the joint in another one of those bog-ordinary no-need-for-an-architect paint-by-numbers hotel renovations [a TAB is now where the fireplace used to be], but at least it remains the only watering hole within spitting distance of the ground.
And oh, don’t make my mistake and eat in the new bistro.
Despite being disassociated from local politics since being forced off the Balmain peninsular more than 20 years ago by hideous real estate prices, was not surprised to be handed a protest flyer at the turnstiles:

SHAME LEICHHARDT COUNCIL
Leichhardt Council Mayor Jamie Parker: SENDING TIGERS BROKE!
WONT approve the leagues club development
WONT support immediate Leichhardt Oval upgrades
WONT support more games at Leichhardt Oval
WONT support more ovals for junior rugby league
Tell the Mayor that Tigers belong in the community!

Someone should’ve told the bloke handing them out that absolutely nothing’s changed over the decades.

WESTS TIGERS 34. Tries: Marshall, Lawrence, Tuiaki, Gallant, Payne, Farah. Goals: Marshall (5).
NORTH QUEENSLAND COWBOYS 14. Tries: Bowen, Webb. Goals: Thurston (3).
At Leichhardt Oval.
Crowd: 18,408.


The defeatist attitude from the super coach mid week obviously permeated from the top down.
How else to explain leading by two goals at half time and then having nine unanswered goals kicked on you in the final quarter?
By then the old blokes had just run out of legs and would probably have played better football if they had appeared on the ground in wheelchairs and had been pushed around by girls in funny nurse’s hats.
Simple fact of the matter was that Carlton took out the giant tusk during the third quarter, and then with two goals in as many minutes at the opening of the final quarter, rammed the damnable thing clean up the Swans’ runter.
Sensibly, SC Roos limited his post match comments on interview to "I'd say it would probably have to be one of the most disappointing games in the last seven years, no question.”
Probably?
No question?
So with the aged brigade gone for all money, let’s just see how the young folk shaped up on the day.
Of the 22 players picked by the Swans, a cursory glance at the team sheet reveals that only six were 22 years of age or younger:
The Veszpremi Kiddie [19]: Outmuscled, outclassed.
Jesse “James” White [21]: One good quarter for a few goals. Then went AWOL.
Kieran “Son of Gary” Jack [22]: Genuine talent. Best of the bunch on a bad day.
Danny “Pup” Hanebury [18]: Schoolboy playing a man’s game.
Eddie “Cheese” Barlow [22]: Solid, if unspectacular, as always.
Craig “Noisy” Bird [20]: Did he play? If he did, got no game time.
A lot of work, a lot of very hard work, to be done there.
Sickening to see Teddy Richards coughing up blood near the dénouement after a clash with that Bad Uncle Fev.
Wound up in hospital with busted ribs and a punctured lung, contemplating a sore and sorry season over, while surrounded by family and friends.
Did Fev bother to give him a call to inquire about his health?
No.
Some deadshits do play the game, don’t they?

CARLTON: 3.4, 4.6, 10.8, 19.10 (124). Goals: Fevola 5, Fisher 3, Kreuzer 2, Gibbs 2, Murphy 2, Judd, Carrazzo, Simpson, Betts, Yarran.
SYDNEY: 3.1, 6.3, 9.5, 9.9 (63). Goals: White 4, O'Keefe 2, O'Loughlin, Jolly, Ablett.
At Docklands Stadium.
Crowd: 42,018.