General Admissioners,
We ambled down to the ground from the Orange Grove Hotel singing the ditty...
"And the afternoon was sunny,
The weather it was fine,
We all went down the Oval,
To watch them Sharks go down."
After five days of solid rain in Sydney, match day dawned as a sunny, rather warm day - to the point where there was a one minute drinks break mid-way through each half and half time was lengthened by five minutes.
Even so, the players were completely buggered as they went to extra time, and were cramping up all over the field.
The playing surface held up remarkabley well, even though it appeared some eejit groundsman had spread some heavy duty fertiliser that had killed the grass in regular narrow strips across the ground.
We got to the Spritual Home 40 minutes before kick off, and the ground was already as full as a boot with all the front row standing room only spots on the terrace under the Norman "Latchem" Robinson Stand that we favour already taken.
Managed to find a couple of short people to peer over the heads of, for a panoramic look at the best rugby league viewing ground in the world.
The Tigers marketing department had done a sensational job in selling the game, spreading a rumour that the only way to be guaranteed to get in was to become a Member, and then selling one match Memberships to the season opener at the hugely inflated price of $60, [we paid $25 a head per game for the four-match Leichhardt Oval package] to artificially bolster the Membership numbers and clear a warehouse full of merch.
Brilliant.
The Club Secretary even said that future games at Leichhardt might become Members only affairs, given the rate of sales - the press asked what opposition supporters were supposed to do - to which he replied "well, they can watch it on the telly, can't they?"
In the end they finished up with 1500 walk up tickets, but the attendence was right on the nominal capacity of 20,000, so a few Sharks fans had managed to sneak in.
One of whom we could have done without, as he refused to behave in a quiet and sociable way, being loud and obnoxious as he was.
So, the sooner they shut the gates and keep the riff raff out, the better, for mine
The usual suspects were in.
The good ol' boys from ZZ Top in their full kit of 1970's heirloom Western Suburbs Magpies gear whose beards just seem to grow longer and their tattoos appear to become more numerous as the years go on, were at the bar.
The Wailing Woman, the one who screams maniacally without respite from the opening kick off to the final hooter could be heard, but not seen from our vantage point.
A magnificent spastic, who's only occasionally seen at the ground - he only comes to the big games - was standing near us.
He has an imposing stature of well over six foot and suffers from some kind of St Vitus Dance; with his hands and feet constantly on the move as he gnashes his teeth.
He is a rabid Wests Tigers fan of course, always meticulously turned out in the very latest club garb.
He appears to need no mider as he's quite capable of getting on with it himself.
When the Tigers score a try his arms flap about uncontrollably and by the look on his face he assumes a state of ecstatic happiness.
He's also mute, so of course, makes no sound.
Bless.
There were also displays of ordinary humanity.
Like when the rookie fullback kiddie James Tedesco was stretchered off with what looked like a major season-ending mischief, in the first half of his first game in first grade.
Just 19 years old with the world at his feet; spectators are so close to the action at Leichhardt, you could hear his cry of agony when he went down like a sack of potatoes with an ACL in what was an innocuous tackle.
It was a pitiful sight.
Everyone around us shook their heads and were saying to each other "the poor poor suffering child" as he was given a standing ovation as he was gurneyed to the sideline and taken down the race right in front of us, with the palm of his left hand covering his face so no one could see his weeping.
Enough to move even the hardest heart.
Keefy Galloway was the MOTM by the length of the street for mine...some great yard making runs and always punishing tackles.
Most unfortunately, looks like the bludnut with be out for up to the next six weeks after doing a mischief to one of his feet, of all things.
The marquee signing for this year, Adam Blair, playing in the second row, looked a bit lost in his first game for Balmain, but he is without doubt a big, black, rangy, mobile, nasty bastard.
In other words, a good buy, even though he could take some time to settle.
Forwards played well, but the backs did nothing off some good platforms.
Be My Beau Ryan scoreda try withing 60 seconds of the start off a very lucky bounce in a kick and chase , while Benji used his xray vision and the eyes in the back of his head to pick a narrow gap in the Sharks' defence, and waltzed through the advantage line from 15 yards out with barely a hand laid on him in the opening stanza.
But, most were missing in action in the second half as they were simply outplayed.
More head shaking, particularly at one ridiculous play where the ball was allowed to be bobbled about in the Cronulla backline through about ten sets of hands before an effective tackle was finally made.
Joisus.
The only antidote to that is to have another drink.
Beers have gone up to $6, but no one was complaining.
It's still served ice cold [too cold to hold in mid-winter without gloves] and still served in tins [Balmain fans, it appears, are the only ones in the comp who can be trusted not to throw half full ones at the Bamfords, even under extreme provocation].
Speaking of which, the Bamfords, playing par for the course, had a complete shocker.
It's rare that both sides complained, Cronulla more bitterly, that they were robbed blind, and should have won by plenty if it wasn't for hopelessly incompetant officialdom.
So rare, that the league came straight out and stood down from umpiring duties for a week one J.Maxwell [remember the name, he's a serial offender, he's the Ray Chamberlain of the NRL, constantly on the jibber] for being a bumbling fool.
He'd completely lost control of the game in the denoument.
Cronulla played filthy throughout with high shots, not to mention the sly elbows and knees going in all over the shop, and at one point some Shark rabbit punched a Tiger in the face while he was on the ground as he was being held in the tackle as plain as day for all to see, and breathtakingly, the Bamford gave the penalty to the offender!
Give me strength.
Given that, the Balmain Boys didn't like it much, and hit back, as the game went on to become quite brutal.
After the Sharks were wrongly penalised for being offside in a charge-down in the first set of extra time, and gave Balmain field position to set up the field goal, Benji put it on the toe on the third tackle from about forty yards out; it wobbled strangely off the boot, before settling into an eliptical orbit and only just cleared the crossbar - we are talking a couple of inches here - with the fat part of the ball ocillating wildly.
17-16.
Game over.
The crowd went absolutely apeshit as The Great Marshall danced about on his twinkle toes waggling the fingers of both hands in the air with a wicked grin on his face.
Balmain did not deserve to win, the Good Lady Wife remarked, going so far as to say the second half was "crap"; but they got away with the get out of jail free card, which is always a good thing to get first up.
On interview after the match, SC Sheens only ventured one comment:
"well, you win some, you lose some. We'll take our wins, and we'll learn from our losses"
The football gods were still smiling.
WESTS TIGERS 17. Tries: Ryan (2), Marshall. Goals: Marshall (2). Field Goals: Marshall (1).
CRONULLA-SUTHERLAND SHARKS 16. Tries: Best, Carney, De Gois. Goals: Carney (2).
At Leichhardt Oval.
Crowd: 19,762.
