Fellow Aghastees,
Knew we were in deep trouble from the outset.
Had that feeling in my water, even before getting into the ground.
Had the misfortune to find myself with the Good Lady Wife in the walk up crowd to buy tickets to the outer at the SCG on Sunday arvo.
Then saw some kind of lunatic dressed in the full South Sydney kit from head to toe, but covered in hundreds of buttons as if it was a Suit of Lights, topped off with a large red, white and green jesters hat perched on his head covering a thatch of wild wiry grey hair.
He was pedalling in a dervish kind of way up and down Driver Ave outside the main turnstiles on a three-wheeled contraption constructed entirely of chrome in the way of a Bangkok tuk-tuk; which was festooned in all kinds of South Sydney paraphenalia, constantly sounding the bank of small hand operated horns and trumpets that had been attached to the handle bars.
He didn't need to say anything, which he didn't -- he'd already made his statement.
And this at a Tigers home game? [bringing to four the number of 'home' grounds to be utilised this season].
Also noticed something peculiar about the ticket.
There was no doubting it was an official Ticketek ticket to the unreserved seating with a specific number on it, but in the little box in the lower right hand corner marked "price" of admission was printed $0.00.
Got me thinking does that mean it went into the official bookeeping as a complimentary ticket, while the $23.00 that was forked at the box office went to the unofficial under-the-counter over-the-cap fund to provide a few extra lollies for the players?
Mmm.
Not being familiar with the cheap seats set up for rugby league at the SCG, given that it was the one and only match in the caper to be scheduled there this year, picked up the obligatory pie & beer and found what appeared to be a good spot right in front of the Doug Walters Bar.
Soon realised that it was right next to the bay that is known, as we later discovered, as "the Burrow", reserved specifically for South's maniacs and psychopaths.
As soon as they started singing, knew it was time to move on.
Shifted to the Paddington end of the ground and found a nice perch underneath the awning of the Dally Messenger Stand, right next to the [now seriously ageing and rusting Bradman Stand] and was somewhat suprised to find that a full brass section had set up right behind us.
Things did not augur well from the off, as Balmain messed up the very first play of the game, knocking the Souths kick off back into the in-goal, when they should have allowed it to roll into touch, and from there it just went from bad to worse, with the Tigers forwards getting mercilessly walloped up the middle by the the big brown brothers in the Rabbitoh's pack, and when they did manage to get the ball, the Tigers backs couldn't do a single thing right; dropped ball and knock-ons all over the shop, every pass went wrong, every kick went awry.
After a while, someone in a black beanie called out "there's no grunt in the engine room!"
The GLW, who, despite being a keen student of the game, is not generally prone to barracking, barked in reply "yeah! and the backs aren't playing very well either!"
When Lui scored for Balmain to level the terms at 6-6 there was a very faint glimer of hope, and everyone was startled when the brass section opened up with a couple of riffs to celebrate.
It became clear that the band had been paid to only play when the Tigers scored -- they had very little to do for the rest of the afternoon.
At 18-6 at the break it seemed only a matter of time before the floodgates opened, and so it came to pass
As if to purposely add to the surreal nature of the scene, five minutes before half time, upwards of a thousand young dancing girls dressed in black leotards with gold ribbons in their hair began filing onto the ground along the eastern touch line - which was a little disconcerting with the game still in progress - to get ready for the half time entertainment.
Things went from bad to worse to appalling after that.
When the Rabbitiohs put on their first try of the second half, the GLW whispered in my ear "bloody poop. we are getting absolutely murdered here".
Souths scored willy nilly on the back on unforced Balmain errors, mainly from one B.Marshall, and it was soon clear that a cricket score was in the offing at the cricket ground
There was widespread speculation among seasoned observers at the ground that it was the worst exhibition of rugby league put on by the Tigers against the Rabbitohs in living memory.
Having blindly followed the club for nigh on 25 years, struggling to think of a worse one.
Old hands of the likes of Backdoor Benny and Blocker Roach have even been hauled out in the fishwraps saying "worst ever", "pitiful display", "should hand over their match payments to charity" etc.
It certainly was for the yoof of today if the faces on a couple of young kiddies sitting just a few seats along was anything to go by.
They were maybe nine or ten year old boys who looked completely crestfallen as they had wrapped their Tigers flags tightly around the stick of dowel, to which they were holding on grimly.
Touching to see them take their disappointment hard.
When the Rabbitoh's scored their ninth try of the match with seven minutes left on the clock, thought it prudent that we should follow the lead of the highly vocal, disgruntled Tigers fans a couple of rows in front who simply screamed "enough is enough", and begin to make a break for the turnstiles.
So we entirely missed the wild scenes at the end of the match.
As the GLW was taking a leak underneath the Bill O'Reilly Stand on the way out, that Try Scoring Freak Lawrence apparently scored a very late 'consolation try' for Balmain.
By all accounts, as Marshall was lining up to have the kick at goal for the conversion, hundreds of people started spilling over the fence onto the ground; making off with the corner posts, drink bottles on the sidelines, eskies, spare footballs, advertising hoardings, you name it; anything they could lay their hands on that wasn't nailed down flat.
The Bamford then had no alternative but to blow the full-time whistle, which was the cue for a full scale pitch invasion as thousands of South Sydneyites ran onto the ground to mob their heroes, as the Balmain players fled in terror back to the safety of the dressing room, with the cops and security powerless to do anything about it.
Heard sometime later that some Souths fan had been spotted on the ground stripping her top off to reveal her not inconsiderable breasts while she posed with her favourite Rabbitoh, as her girlfriend took photographs on her mobile phone.
Have always thought that Souths fans were all class.
It was a good thing to miss, for mine.
Got home just in time to switch on the early sports news on the crystal bucket and cover our eyes and ears for the highlights package, but did see footage of SC Sheens saying on interview after the game "We should apologise to our fans for that. I've just had a long talk to the players about it...we haven't played that badly in a very, very long time..."
At least he didn't make any excuses, like the curse of the bye or some such nonsense, and fully accepted that the buck stops here.
After witholding over-the-cap payments for the forseeable future, The Club Secretary has booked the boys in for a couple of sessions this week in The Room Full of Mirrors down on the Balmain Road, so they can spend some time having a good look at themselves as they hang their heads in shame.
As for SC Sheens, it's back to Ashley & Martin for more urgent hair loss treatment.
Would be well served to live out my born days without having to witness and endure in person such a miserable gawdforsaken shocker again.
WESTS TIGERS 10. Tries: Lui, Lawrence. Goals: Marshall (1).
SOUTH SYDNEY RABBITOHS 50. Tries: Merritt (3), Champion (2), Taylor, Sandow, Best, Talanoa. Goals: Luke (7).
At Sydney Cricket Ground.
Crowd: 30,685.
Obviously the boys in the back room down at the Swans Club in Kings Cross didn't do enough work sticking the pins into the Big Bad Barry Hall voodoo doll.
Five maximums, and His Badness should really have kicked ten off his own boot.
Knew we were in deep trouble from the outset.
Had that feeling in my water as soon as news filtered through on the bush telegraph in the corner of the loungeroom that Bradshaw had been ruled out just before the opening bounce as he was still feeling the ill-effects of being sat on like a pumpkin at Kardinia Park the week previous.
And all they could come up with was Paul Bevan as a last minute replacement.
Says something about the depth of the Sydney roster.
No ruckmen, no full forward, no cigar.
But they really only had themselves to blame, in the final paralysis.
You don't generally win games by failing to kick ten goals on the wide open spaces at Manuka Oval.
Embarrassing when the opposition pulls up stumps at the end of the Championship Quarter, finding that there's no real need to kick a goal in final quarter - seven behinds will do - with the game already well and truly in the dilly bag.
SC Roos would have had plenty to think about as he scratched his chin and gazed out to sea at the Sunday morning smoko by the Magic Waters.
The early season purple patch turns out to be nothing more than an Indian summer.
Swans go from top of the table to sixth on the ladder in the space of a fortnight.
The less said the better.
And it doesn't get any easier for a while.
Did note that the bloke who gave a Swans jumper to that inveterate collector of football guernseys, The Dalai Lama, announced his retirement from the caper mid-week, at age 33, effective at the end of the season.
Will be forever known among the faithful as Brett "Never Played A Bad Game" Kirk.
What he lacked in natural ability, he made up for in internal fortitude, read guts and determination.
Dead set champion.
Couldn't have pulled off the Miracle of '05 without him.
Vale Cap'n Kirk.
WESTERN BULLDOGS: 4.4, 9.6, 14.10, 14.17 (101). Goals: Hall 5, Stack 3, Lake 2, Hahn, Higgins, Eagleton, Hill.
SYDNEY: 3.2, 4.7, 6.9, 9.9 (63). Goals: Goodes 4, Hannebury 2, Bolton, Rohan, Kirk.
Crowd: 14,308.
At Manuka Oval, Canberra.
