The Great Train Robbery narrowly averted

Heart Patients,


Given his appalling record as a goal kicker, The Great Benji's field goal attempt from just inside his own half somewhere near the middle of the 50 metre line seemed preposterous at best.
And yet the ball sailed sweetly off the boot, flew high wide and handsome; had plenty of height and no trouble with the distance, but managed to shave a coat of paint off the left upright before gently rolling across the dead ball line just as the half-time hooter sounded for no result,
Never mind that it was roundly applauded as a red hot go.
Noticed SC Sheens has a very clever ploy going on, based on the paradox that no one can fault Marshall with his kicking in general play.
Benji never kicked on the last tackle at any point in the match; always got the clearing kick away on the 3rd or 4th tackle.
That way the valve on the pressure cooker is released, you make the opposition do a lot more work in attack for very little territorial advantage, while your forwards take up the invitation to bash the visitors from pillar to post.
That will take the puff and the stuffing out of any side, especially if they don't have fresh legs to put on the in the last 20 minutes.
Coach doesn't mind being behind, knowing the likelihood of coming home under a wet sail is always likely.
If there were any kiddies at the ground their mentors would do doubt have been instrructing them to take a close look at proceedings as "an excellent text book example of well-coached team-work, against the odds"
Inglis for Souths was the only fly in the ointment early, with seasoned observers at the ground questioning whether his shoulder charge is actually legal.
He lines his intended victim up with a tank gun, and then boom!
However, the resultant bone-rattling bell-ringer is late more often than not, moments after the tacklee has disposed of the ball.
The thug obviously thinks its not illegal unless you get caught, so continues to go on with it, and is only encouraged as the Bamfords by and large see nothing wrong with it.
Go figure.
Speaking of Bamfords, after a minor stink in the second half it was rather humourous to see the ref, officiating in just his 8th first grade game, dress down the players saying "now listen up, you blokes can't take the law into your own hands".
Yeah. Right.
And then Marshall gets sin-binned for ten minutes with four minutes left in the match for holding a player down in the tackle, and strides off to the rooms to a standing ovation.
The Best Leb In the Game and The Great Benji superbly orchestrated the set plays, and the continuation of the Farah/Marshall show, week in, week out, will be the difference between winning and losing all season.
Lord help us if either of them gets run over by a George Street bus.
The return of That Pom Ellis adds starch to the pack, but there's still nine first graders in Sick Bay, with none of them back any time soon.
Even with an injury list that long, SC Sheens sees no need to throw the new wunderkid Jacob Miller in at the deep end, bringing him on only in the 65th minute.
There's always delicious satisfaction beating Souths, especially after being at the SCG last year to see Balmain absolutely flogged by the Rabbitohs 50-10 [the game the players were forced to apologise to the fans for, and the tipping point that sent them on the road to finishing 3rd].
Did like the shot on the crystal bucket of Rusty Crowe sitting all by himself in the Souths Owner's Box, with all the other people squeezed as tightly as they could into the opposite corner.
The bloke must stink.
Either that, or he's a sore loser.

WESTS TIGERS 30. Tries: Dwyer (2), Brown, Marshall, McKinnon. Goals: Marshall (5).
SOUTH SYDNEY RABBITOHS 6. Tries: Sandow. Goals: Sandow (1).
At Sydney Football Stadium.
Crowd: 22,677.


Watching the Cardiac Kids is not easy.
Never ming reaching for the heart pills, it seemed a sure thing during the final stanza that the ambo's would turn up at my place, lay me out on a gurney and wheel me up the street and around the corner to Canterbury Hospital for an emergency triple by-pass.
Why is it that in recent seasons the Swans rarely get thrashed, and rarely thrash any opposition?
With the Swans down by 6 points at three quarter time, there was a live chance that the Red and the White could have gone down by that exact margin, right to the very death.
That wouldn't have sat very well.
Given that early in the first quarter a perfectly good goal from Goodes was ruled by the vision-impaired [read legally blind] goal Bamford as a behind.
Wot the?
Human frailty you can understand and forgive, but it's very hard to tolerate plain incompetance on the part of officialdom.
The Great Train Robbery narrowly averted.
It's a bit of a worry when at first glance the Swans seem to be being coached by Mr Ed to constantly chop and change between Plan A and Plan B, whatever Plan A and Plan B might be.
Going from the the 'traditional' flood into the backline and endless stacks on the mill, then suddenly its the long bomb and hope with few if any players in the forward 50.
Doesn't smack much of structure, for mine.
Lets see how it pans out over the next few weeks.
You'd be prepared to cut the new coach a bit of slack at this stage; as he keeps telling the Club Secretary "still feeling my way boss", and who can argue with his charges yet to taste defeat after three rounds rounds?.
Not a lot of consistency either; Rick Shaw might have been best on ground up to half-time and then went missing in action, while In Like McGlynn did nothing in the first half, only to play a blinder for most of the second, with Smiffy and Spida Jnr left with the task of tidying up the win at the denoument.
Then there's the young bloke in the team who hasn't been told about or can't remember any game plan and just goes about doing his own thing; in the process producing the goal of the year.
The young Jetta kiddie -- found himself hovering about on the half-back line when the pill came his way, got possession, lost it, and then neatly tapped the ball on three times on the run, regathered, one bounce, and a kick from 60 metres out that bounced a few times in the goal square before dribbling through the big sticks.
Magnificent.
One more win and they'd be building into a very handy early season purple patch.
But the game at HQ this Saturday night against the Cats will provide a rather good yardstick with which to measure themselves by.
And please, no more of this cardiac stuff, OK, Horse?




WEST COAST EAGLES: 3.3, 6.8, 10.10, 13.10 (88). Goals: Lynch 4, Cox 2, Embley, Ebert, Kennedy, Gaff, Shuey, Selwood, Naitanui.
SYDNEY SWANS: 3.3, 7.5, 9.10, 15.11 (101). Goals: Goodes 3, Everitt, McGlynn 2, Jetta, Shaw, Bolton, Rohan, Smith, White.
At Subiaco Oval.
Crowd: 37,288.

Crazy Craves Art Market

High Rollers,

Off topic to be sure, but here it is, for another year.
My book on the 2011 Archibald Prize.
It's a market that is not based on or revolves around any kind of artistic merit whatsoever; rather logic, determined purely on form.
The AGNSW Trustees, who decide the winner and award the prize, have form.
They might not know anything about art, but they know what they like.
Half the painters in a gargantuan field have form, some over a lot of years of trying in the caper, including no less than five previous winners and plenty more who have been hung before.
It's a wide open affair with many genuine chances.
My Tip?
The Miller is the sentimental favourite for mine, while Sages is well overdue for a win.
Neither is likely to salute the judges.
The choice is yours.



CRAZY CRAVES ART MARKET

[Archibald Prize 2011. Listed Race. Over any distance you like. Set weights. All-age Painter's Free-For-All, with conditions. Subject must be prominent person in fields of Arts, Letters, Sciences, or Politics. First past the post only. No protests. No disqualifications. Run: Art Gallery of New South Wales, Friday 16 April, 1200 AEST].

4/1 Quilty.
9/2 Chang, Harding, Miller.
13/2 Dyer, Sages, Shen, Ruddy.
10/1 Cullen, Culliton, McKenzie, Tippet.
12/1 Chen, McDonald, Pople.
16/1 Done, Ling, Lowry.
25/1 Abdullah, Callum, de Berenger, Marburg, Storrier, Wegener.
33/1 Alexander, Barton, Beynon, Doust, Kibel, Kretschmar.
50/1 Bieniek, Benjamin, Lindeman, Mezei, Stafanescu.
100/1 But-Husaim, McVinish, Macbeth, Tyson, Yin.
150/1 Fantauzzo, No prize awarded.

on two crook nuts

Registered Nurses,

It had that air of all-too predictable inevitabillty about it.
Little wonder with no less than eleven [needless to say, that's two short of a team in this caper] rostered first grade players in The Sick Bay and The Best Leb In The Game afflicted with some disease/injury of/to the goddam pubis, for gawd sake.
West Tigers website thoughtfully maintains a regularly updated injured players list.
You know the sort of thing; name of player, cause of problem "knee", "groin", "shoulder", and earliest expected round of return - four of them are listed as "indefinite", but thankfully, at this stage, no one appears as "season".
With the very bad luck they've been having in that department so early in the season, the pessimist would say its only a matter of time before all hope is lost.
Balmain are not short on fitness; with the coaches they've got they'd be being flogged on the training paddock, so why the seeming fragileness?
The Club Doctor confesses that he doesn't have a clue.
To make matters worse, mid-week before the game three players, to wit Bryce Gibbs, Beau Ryan and Liam Fulton, were reprimanded and fined for failing to adhere to the no alcohol whatsoever rule for players in injury rehab, the weekend previous.
Seems they were spotted in a dark corner of the leagues club ordering the steak and chips and a couple of beers while settling in to watch some other rugby league game on the big screen.
No one is quite sure why they did it, or if it was an act of open defiance against the ban.
They're not saying, maintaining their right to silence.
The Coach and The Board took a dim view of it, but the Club Secretary eventually, wisely, downgraded the charge to a "breach of protocol" given that no one was anywhere near drunk or doing anything unusual or offensive.
Crikey!
If you were buggered and couldn't play and had little prospect of turning out in the forseeable future, the first thing you'd be tounging for would be a large drink, wouldn't it?
You have to wonder if anyone has officially replaced the "assistant coach" and go-to-man The Great Royce Simmons, who's departed for a full-time head coach job in the dark satantic mills of northern England.
Roycie would have simply advised the trio in question to get their grog home delivered.
Pleasing to see that SC Sheens continues to play ducks and drakes when it comes to team selection, naming the untried 18-year-old half back called Jacob Miller who was plucked from obscurity while playing for the Mullumbimby Giants, at half back, when he never intended to play him there, sensibly preferring the experienced Timmy Moltzen, who's more of a full back, to play half back.
Left Miller on the bench and gave him no more than 10 minutes in the centres in the second half, while Moltzen played the full 80 minutes for the first time in a good 12 months, according to the stats guru's.
After giving a regulation display in the first half with the limited resources they had, things were not helped for Balmain when that dirty rotten scoundrel Minichielo scored his 104th career try for The Chooks.
Things looked up when the Bamford saw fit to sin bin the very same player for ten minutes with nine minutes left in the match for a professional foul, aka a deliberate strip in a two-on-one tackle, with the Tigers in a choice attacking position.
The Bamford took that view that Minichielo had been doing it all day, and enough was enough.
Unfortunately the Tigers came very close but couldn't complete the set off the back of the penalty.
They battled on gamley with a few genuine chances in the denoument, but it didn't come close to paying off against a rugged steadfast opposition defence.
As expected, beaten fair and square.
Farah has a stark choice for his inner groin problem.
Surgery and two months off, or battle through the painkilling injections right into the rather delicate places, and play on.
Seems he might have taken the second option, given that he is permanently in dummy half and never gets tackled unless he wants to be, so he doesn't get bashed up like the other forwards.
Reckons he can still do his job on two crook nuts and get away with it.
No one's going to argue with that and good luck to him.
SC Sheens on interview after the game briefly ruminated on lost opportunites, principally the inability to convert some clever set-plays into points, but was at his tacitern best when he remarked..."well, we'll have to be better next week, otherwise Souths will murder us".

SYDNEY ROOSTERS 24. Tries: Kenny-Dowall, Kennedy, Minichiello, Carney. Goals: Anasta (4).
WESTS TIGERS 6. Tries: Woods. Goals: Marshall (1).
At Sydney Football Stadium.
Crowd: 20,479.

Found myself in a car on the way home from a picnic at Towradgi listening to the radio call of the last quarter from the Western Paddock, so didn't see a single frame of the game, not even the highlights reel on the crystal bucket news, so not really in much of a position to offer comment.
But from what could be discerned from the wireless, Mr Ed would not have been entirely happy.
Suppose he would have been relieved that the Swans managed to take the Get Out Of Jail Card Free, when it looked for all the world like yet another tie at the death.
Had to reach for the heart pills immediately on coming through the front door.
Seasoned observers suggest it was the club veterans who provided the glue to keep the sinking ship afloat after the long break.
But the likes of The Goodes Train (31yo), Rhino (30), Bolton, J. (31), Mad Marty Matts (28) are getting rather long in the tooth and can't have more than this year left in them, surely?
Looks for all the world, at this very early stage, like a repeat of last year looming - a reasonable show of making the 8, only to be eaten alive for breakfast in the finals.
Apparently one of the highlights of the match was one of the Bamfords being completely bowled over by Son of Gary, with the official going down like a sack of potatoes.
Talk about larf!
Worth the price of admission alone you would have thought.
Not that there were many there to see it; less than 30K at Homebush is an out-and-out poor attendance.
Perhaps the staff on the turnstiles somehow forgot to count the phantom members who didn't turn up?
My spy at the ground, a long time loyal member, sent me a message on the bush telegraph.
"Coach Horse appears to be trying something a little different. No-one quite knows what this is"
Time will tell, you'd be guessing.

SYDNEY: 1.5, 6.8, 10.11, 14.14 (98). Goals: J.Bolton 3, McGlynn 3, Bevan 2, White 2, Goodes, Kennedy, Rohan, O'Keefe.
ESSENDON: 4.4, 8.7, 12.9, 13.15 (93). Goals: Crameri 2, Hurley 2, Ryder 2, Winderlich 2, Leroy Jetta, Davey, Hocking, Watson, M.McVeigh.
At Olympic Stadium, Homebush.
Crowd: 28,082.

"you'd swear he was covered in spiders"

Arachnologists,

A bizzare game of football if ever there was one.
With the brand new flat screen telly in the corner of the loungeroom that had been ordered in just in time for the new footy season firmly locked on to news from the tally room, found myself scrabbling about in the rafters of Dad's Shed fiddling about and adusting the radio aerial to beam in the long range broadcast of the Tiges game.
Football had been bumped off local radio, both ABC and commercial, in favour of election coverage.
Managed to tune into the only option for a continuous call of the rugby league proceedings on the reliable old shed wireless from ABC 612AM Brisbane.
Reception was fairly scratchy through the white noise snow, so brought a portable radio down to the shed and tuned it into the same frequency.
Voila! Bingo! AM Stereo! Brilliant!
Needless to say, it worked a treat.
Well aware that the call was freely available with crystal clear clarity on the net thingy, but this was much more fun.
Maybe it's time to cut the mustard and do a deal to get a digital radio?
No idea who was calling the game, but he did have a nice turn of phrase.
Marshall was making a bustling run being heavily involved in some first-half set-play and the commentator called it thus:
"Marshall! He's busted through one tackle, now he's done another, threw a dummy, stepped in and slipped away from a third tackle, and now a fourth! How about that! He's still going Marshall! Now, he's finally brought down. Fair Dinkum! You'd swear he was covered in spiders."
Forwards laid some solid groundwork, as you'd expect, to give the Great Benji and the other backs room to put on the jink, the step, the weave to good effect and it always looked like it was going to be tries-a-plenty, especially against a Raiders' defence that was put on the back foot one too many times.
The visitors really had no hope after a forward scored a brilliant run away try off his own bat...Mr Andrew Fifita, who's of course built like a Sherman tank, busted the advantage line wide open and found himself in the clear with no visible means of support, with only the full back to beat; cranked up the tracks on the armoured personel carrier, swatted the full back out the way and ran a full 50 metres to plant the ball underneath the black dot.
Magnificent!
Now that's embarrassing for any opposition.
Speaking of complete embarrassment for Marshall; lining up to kick a gimmee goal, only problem was that his kicking boot got in caught the turf and the ball dribbled a few yards off the kicking tee and rolled end on end and went no further, failed even to become airborne.
Joisus.
No further evidence needed viz a viz the urgent need for a new goal kicker!
With the game in the dilly bag, the Try Scoring Freak was stretchered off with ten minutes to go with what keen observers at the ground described as "a shocker".
Turns out the poor bastard had to be taken to the local hospital and given a general anesthetic before they could get five blokes in white coats to jump on him and put his dislocated hip back into place.
Never heard of such an injury before, but was always bound to be very bad.
With Lawrence gorn, the Tiges appeared to loose all interest in the game, and proceeded to let in not one, not two, but three soft tries in the denoument.
Not a good look when a well regarded student of the game remarked over the bush telegraph that the second half represented a chance to "put the fear into the other teams".
Didn't work like that.
SC Sheens would have been filthy as with the last 10 minutes, reminding his charges in no uncertain terms that the game only goes on for 80 minutes, for gawd's sake, and there's no time for a nap, let alone a sleep at
Campbelltown.
You might be mugged, as they were.
The Great Todd "The Refrigerator" Payten played his 250th game [a rarity in league] and threw his weight around well in the early part; happy enough to take the accolades.
One helluva unit who played in the '05 Grand Final and whose longevity has been truly remarkable.
Softly spoken off field and has an admirable long standing policy of never drawing any attention to himself.
Curiously enough his 250th came playing against the team he is now playing with at the same ground as he did in his debut game, when he turned out for Canberra, then coached by Tim Sheens.
Circular circularity at its finest.
With Lote "Wot'd I do Guv?" Tuqiri out with a broken right forearm, as a result of an innocuous first half tackle, until Round 11 at best, and The Try Scoring Freak gorn until Round 16 at the very very earliest [read season ender, for mine], surely it's not another season -- you can pick any one you like from The Drought of '06-'09 -- that is tragically cruelled by injury?
SC Sheens had the proper take on it as quoted in the Sunday fishwraps
'You learn in this game that you've got to get on with it. It would be a waste for Chris if we lose next week … It's very disappointing for the kid and for the team, to lose our left edge tonight. The players have got to come to grips with getting ready for another week.'
Indeed, the "left edge" wiped out in the blink of an eye.

WESTS TIGERS 34. Tries: Lawrence, Utai, Lui, Heighington, Ayshford, Fifita. Goals: Marshall (5).
CANBERRA RAIDERS 24: Tries: Ferguson (3), Vidot, Dugan. Goals: Croker (2).
At Campbelltown Sports Ground.
Crowd: 14,091.


Another bizzare game by any measure and they only have themselves to blame.
Suppose it's as good a time as any in the season to learn the painful lesson that nine times out of ten games of Australian Rules Football are usually won and lost in the Championship Quarter.
That's why it's called the Championship Quarter, doh.
Three goals nine behinds in Q3 is a dead-set coach killer, with most of the bent-wide chances coming from set shots.
Deary me.
No doubt Coach Horse aka Mr Ed would have raised his voice as he told them that to escape with two points from the draw that they narrowly got away with is only half the punishment.
If he had any sense, he would have just got the forwards together on the training paddock on Monday morning and told them they can only go home once they have kicked 50 goals, each.
At the same time, he'd be saying to the Club Secretary "I'm new to this, boss!".
He'd claim tactics and strategy need careful planning, which takes time, and fair enough you'd suppose, but that sort of inaccuracy in front of the big sticks just doesn't wash.
Although there were some encouraging aspects, it's hard to see at this early stage, the Swans being really competitive with the genuine top sides.
And yet there have been a few sharp long time observers of the game who pre-season rated The Red & The White a chance of making the top four.
Mmmm....
Thought the Yoof of Today who the club have recruited over the past couple of years acquitted themselves well.
The likes of Son of Gary, Big Ted, the Haneberry Kiddie, Jetta the Joint Strike Fighter, Rick Shaw, In Like McGlynn, Jesse James White, Reg Grundy, even Spida Jnr on debut, all sparkled from time to time, but still need to learn how to play four good quarters of football consistently to make a major impact, while the veterans and journeymen did what they've been doing year in year out, just getting things done.
Mr Ed would be well aware that he has but one superstar on the roster - who's star is on the wane - and then it's a long step down off The Goodes Train to a handful of players who are capable of out and out brilliance.
Rhino Keefe probably the best among them on the day.
Seems they're going down the right track, but it looms as a rebuilding year in all probability.
There's no substitute for hard won experience, but Jetta's 80 yard solo run from half back flank almost to the full forward square, with no less than five bounces along the way, only goes to prove there's nothing like exuberance.
It doesn't win matches, but it can go a long way.

MELBOURNE: 3.2 5.8 8.12 11.18 (84). Goals: Green 2, Dunn 2, Jurrah 2, Moloney, Sylvia, Bennell, N Jetta, Jones.
SYDNEY: 5.3 7.5 10.14 11.18 (84). Goals: McGlynn 3, J Bolton 3, Goodes 2, Everitt, White, Reid.
At Melbourne Cricket Ground.
Crowd: 33,951.

A night out at Leichhardt brought to you by Panadol

Thrill Seekers,

It rained, on and off, all day Saturday and after weeks, if not months of no significant precipitation in Sydney, we looked like facing the irony of getting a wet arse at the football.
However, apart from a little mizzle as we climbed heartbreak hill up from the river to the Mary St entrance, not a single drop of rain fell during the match, and then the minute we walked back in through the front door, the overnight deluge began.
84mm in the rain gague at home in the 24 hours to 0900 Sunday.
Lucky.
With the weather coming in from the NE it made even more sense for me and the Good Lady Wife to perch ourselves on the low wall under the cover of the towering Port Jackson fig treeS [at the risk of being donged on the head by falling fruit] overlooking the NW corner post [which fell over of its own accord during the first half presumably due to the soft ground and had to be repaired by a bloke armed with a hacksaw] until some enormous man mountain of a brown brother, dressed in gumboots, some kind of blue boiler suit teamed with protective rugby headgear, sporting a giant silver fern flag attached to a log of a flag pole appeared as if out of nowhere, along with his outrageously drunk weedy little white bread mate in full Worriers match day kit and decided to take up residence right near us, and proceed to ruin it for everyone.
Then moved to the other end of the ground and found that the offical crowd figure had been inflated by a bit [lucky if there were 10K in, for mine, fairweather fans just didn't turn up - It's like that in Sydney] and found that we could squeeze in and lean over the railing on the terrace in front of the grand stand and watch the Tigers score the match winning tries right in front of our noses.
Brilliant!
Despite the rain reprieve, it was a ratty, dour first half exhibition of wet weather football on a greasy ground, indicated by the 0-0 scoreline after the traditional softening up period and the 6-6 scoreline at the break.
The Worriers had the bulk of first half possession and the Tiges were lucky to get away with only one try scored against them, but the visiting Kiwi's as a result were bashed from pillar to post by the Balmain forwards, and looked buggered.
It seemed certain they would run out of puff and floodgates would open to some extent, and so it came to pass, with three tries late in the half enough to seal the deal.
Obviously under instruction, Robert "not bad for a kid" Lui played a more traditional old-style kind of half back at second receiver, and while the Great Benji again just tried too hard, but at least he had a hand in every try.
The forwards manned up well in defence, but still lack some starch in taking the ball up.
That said, Keefy "Bludnut" Galloway made some important busts through the advantage line to put his backs in the clear.
After scoring another double, there was a pleasing note mid-week with Chris Lawrence being invited to lunch with the Club Secretary in the Member's Dining Room at the Balmain Leagues Club, where the Try Scoring Freak signed a new five year contract on the back of a beer coaster.
The Board took the view that The Freak should not be a new Scotty Prince - a big fish who got away.
On interview after the game, SC Sheens described the match as a "Panadol night" intimating that he's got a few headaches to cure before the Tigers can start taking all before them.
There's no substitute for match practice and match fitness, so it will come in due course.
In the meantime, a win is a win, however dire.
There was a touching half-time tribute to Taniela "The Human Wrecking Ball" Tuiaki, at a ground where he is much loved.
Here's a bloke who shattered an ankle at the end of the '09 season, missed the entire '10 season, and retired at the tender age of 28 just before the start of this season in the knowledge that he would never come right.
They paraded him around all four corners of the ground, from time-to-time arm-in-arm with some cheer girls, who let him go to do the long, lonely solo walk in front of the grand stand.
As he meekly waved to the members giving him a standing ovation, he tried manfully to hide his limp, but failed.
The poor, poor bastard.

WESTS TIGERS 20. Tries: Lawrence (2), Ayshford, Farah. Goals: Marshall (2).
NEW ZEALAND WARRIORS 12. Tries: Inu, Mannering. Goals: Seymour (2).
At Leichhardt Oval.
Crowd: 13,161.

"The Premiership Table brought to you by WD40"

Fellow Members of the Royal College of Optomotrists,

Robbed blind.
A fantastic way to start the season.
The general consensus of opinion among the seasoned observers at the ground was that third try of the match early in the second half involved, not one, but two forward passes.
The Bamford had obviously forgotten to put his contact lenses in before the game and the relevant touch judge had somehow managed to turn himself into a pillar of salt, and despite the flagrant flouting of the rules, found himself frozen by the fear of having to make a decision, and was unable and/or unwilling to blow his whistle.
It completely changed the complexion of the match, giving the Bulldogs critical momentum.
Joisus.
Walked in thru the front door from the mid-north coast and found the game already underway, and wandered down to Dad's Shed to do a few jobs and listen to the much improved MMM radio call of the Monday night game.
Did like the strategic sponsorship in the post match analysis of "The Premiership Table brought to you by WD40".
The ladder will need a bit of a spray to de-clog the rusty cogs in the inevitable mid-season log jam.
A worry that the forwards are still to find their feet, but that will come with match fitness.
It didn't help that SC Sheens made a big gamble that didn't pay off by keeping the likes of Peyton, Ellis & Heighington on the bench with the aim of re-injecting them into the game in the last 10 minutes, when, by that stage, it was fairly much game over.
SC Sheens said little on interview after the disappointment, accepting blame while commenting "the No.6 and the No.7 will probably tell you they could have had better games".
True enough.
Lui tried to get to every play-the-ball to be first receiver, only to cramp The Great Benji's style, leaving the centre pairing gasping for air.
And of course, with his minor off-field drama still looming large in his mind, Marshall just tried too hard.
Full stop.
It's also painfully apparent, as it was all last season, that BM can't kick goal.
Hopeless.
There's a rumour that Balmain has some junior waiting in the wings who is a dead accurate specialist goal kicker who can't get a game currently until his work in general play improves.
Don't know what his name is.
Who does?
Whoever he is, bring him on.
Despite, or perhaps because of, living in the heart of Canterbury-Bankstown territory for the past 12 years or so, still can't stand it when Canterbury-Bankstown beat anyone {with the possible exception of Manly}, let alone the Mighty Tiges.
It's something about the culture.
The Club Secretary would have got out a brand new Coach's Ledger for the start of the season, so SC Sheens could scratch a mark in the column headed "we'll learn from our losses" with "well take our wins" untouched on the other side of the page.
There's always this Saturday night at Leichhardt against the Worriers to make a start there.


CANTERBURY-BANKSTOWN BULLDOGS 24. Tries: Morris, Pritchard, Keating, Turner. Goals: Goodwin (4).
WESTS TIGERS 14. Tries: Tuquiri, Lawrence, Marshall. Goals: Marshall (1).
At Olympic Stadium, Homebush.

sorting out the entree fork from the fish knife

Loyalists,

Just handed over four pineapples to the Mighty Tiges for tickets for two to all four home games at Leichhardt Oval, which apparently, also entitles me and the Good Lady Wife to membership of the Wests Tigers Rugby League Football Club.
Joisus.
Only been going to Leichhardt Oval for 25 years, and never once did it cross my mind to take up club membership, probably on the principal of "never join a club that would have you as a member".
So after all this time, in one simple transaction, it appears they've tapped me as a member, albiet by default.
It only gets you general admission and a member's cap mind you, but at least they can't lock you out when they close the gates as the crowd pushing to get in is deemed dangerously too large.
Mighty Tiges would have to be a magnificent bright shining chance for the flag this year, with a virtually unchanged line up that went third last year, including the Sensational Six, who are the remaining survivors of the Miracle Year '05.
They include Bryce Gibbs who was quoted in the SMH as saying that he would be rather disappointed if Balmain didn't go top at the end of the regular season and pick up the JJ Giltinan Shield.
Who's to argue with a big boofy prop forward who'd rather knock yr block off than look at you?
This was the bloke who last year scribbled on a scrap of paper "I will retire from the NRL if we don't make the 8 this season".
A few other jokers signed their names underneath, and pinned it up in the Club Secretary's office.
This was after the then Club Secretary asked SC Sheens if he would like to undergo a performance review analysis.
The mild-mannered SC Sheens exploded while doing a John Malkovich scene saying "what the fark are you talking about!!" and went straight to the board, had the club secretary sacked forthwith, and then when the new club secretary was installed, immediately took him to some cafe in Chiswick and extended his contract by a year on the back of a paper napkin, with an option for a further year, which he now finds himself inclined to take up.
Never mind the Great Benji's unfortunate incident while stone cold sober when he smacked some fool-drunk in the foul-mouthed piss-talking gob outside the McDonalds on George St at 3am on a Saturday after the inebriated idiot called him a "black c+nt", following him hosting a children's cancer charity fundraising dinner at some five star in town.
The scandal sheets made much of it of course, but the Club doesn't mind, coach doesn't mind, NRL doesn't mind, cops don't care that much, fans care less, and the justice system will consider the common assault charge a nuisance and a waste of time and money.
Better to ponder the full page feature in a recent Sunday fishrap that featured the life and times of the dashing young centre Blake Ayshford, with photographs of him with a rather unattractive woman from the leagues club showing him how to dress in a suit properly, the idea of tying his tie, the way to polish his shoes, and what it means to eat properly in polite company with a knife and fork.
You know the type of thing, sorting out the entree fork from the fish knife.
Proper training in social skills.
Then, and only then, are you are free to go and score tries and make a name for yourself, son.
It's good policy that's served SC Sheens well under his tutelage.
You don't generally find Tigers players wandering about the streets aimlessly pissed at all hours, do you?
If Benji can hold his body together he'll win everything there is to win this year
Robbie "The Best Leb in the Game" Farar, makes for an outstanding captain with an excellent football brain who doesn't muck about and leads men well in the field.
Pack?
As solid as granite in defence, as proven last year where the forwards won far more games than the backs, but also superbly capable in attack; being a bunch of marauders armed with heavy artillery to break up the opposition defensive line to allow Chris "The Try Scoring Freak" Lawrence and Lote "What'd I Do Guv?" Tuiqiri to do their business, which of course, is to trouble the scorers.
SC Sheens, who has so far declined all invitations to talk to the press about this season's prospects and has not said a word about it to anyone on or off the record, is very particular about points on the board and how they are obtained, because in the final paralysis the scorebox in the next day's papers is the only thing in the caper that matters.

Gave up trying to buy a Swans three-game superpass to matches at the Western Paddock, as the Swans have changed ticket agencies, and Ticketmaster has managed to make a complete mess of it - too hard and difficult to bother with in the end.
The price had gone up, designated seats in the cheap seats that you actually might want not guaranteed, a slow, clunky, unfriendly website that was almost unavigable, and they wouldn't take my prefered credit card.
Why change a perfectly good ticketing system when it's not broke in the first place?
Spare me.
So, instead, spent $50 on a Foundation Membership of SC Sheed's Greater Western Sydney Pygmies, even though they won't play a premiership game this season.
The infant club's membership department has been brilliant, putting the "don't care" attitude towards fans over at the Swans to shame.
Coach Horse Longmire will find he has a very hard, long road to hoe.
With a list of tried [or is that tired?] and true veterans on their last legs, a chronically injury prone principal full-forward and ruckman, some has-been journeymen, a handful of promising youngsters who have played a few games, Hannebery chief among them, and some poor choices in the rookie draft; Swans will appear to travel alright from time to time, but they won't make the eight; younger, fitter, want to win teams, of which there are now plenty, will run rings around them.
Happy to bet on it at the $1.88 currently on offer.

Sorry, but time to boot the old bush telegraph in the corner of the lounge room into service, to start receiving the intelligence from my spies at the ground and transmitting the Winter Game wire for yet another season.
It'll be fun.
You know it makes sense.