the little paintbrush and the pot of gold paint

Canine fanciers,

Is MJ Clarke the greatest cover driver of the modern era?
The question on everyone’s lips.
Wracking my brain to try and think of a better one, but don’t think there is.
Reminds me more and more of The Great KD Walters as the years press on.
The poise, the footwork, the accuracy, the flashing blade, not to mention the murderous intent, as he puts his head as still as a stone over the ball like Tom Watson at the tee with a No.3 wood in his hand.
The sound of the thwack of leather on willow as it hits the sweet spot, the fieldsmen turned on their heels as the ball glides effortlessly to the boundary, the bowler looking aggrieved when its his own fault, the luscious juiciness of the result, is what got me in from day one.
Still vividly remember the days when he made plenty in the first innings and then smacked a big second innings hundred at Newcastle No.1 back in 2002/2003 with Mark Waugh batting at the other end.
Sublime & sublime.
The quintessential elegance of the cover drive back then hasn’t changed a bit after all these years.
It’s just that the grace and finesse has got better.
Never mind that he spooned a limp-wristed shot to a well laid trap in the first innings, or that he lost his second innings off peg in a flight of fancy to a bog ordinary spinner; in a miserable set of circumstances at Lords, where the dirty rotten cheats at the MCC conspired with the Evil Umpires to rob Straya blind of any chance, at least Pup was one of the very few to hold his head up high as he strode back through the Long Room to see the bloke with the little paintbrush and the pot of gold paint on his stepladder inscribing Clarke, M.J. in gilt on the honour board of test match century makers at the ground.
Just a pity he couldn’t grasp the nettle and go on to become a certified National Hero.
There’s time for that.
Played, son.

the next one to go

Apologists,

No Hall.
No cigar.
Season over.
As simple as that.
Even the supercoach has said as much.
Quite startled to read in the Tuesday morning fishwraps that SC Roos had publicly conceded the likelihood of missing the finals for the first time since 2002 was now a dead set certainty, even though the club is yet to slip into the nether world of mathematical calculations.
It’s something SC Sheens, just for instance, would never admit to publicly.
Then again, if you are turned over by a side of the likes of Essendon to the tune of five goals for the Marn Grook Trophy, there is probably no use in pretending anymore.
St Paul also foreshadowed that the pogrom will be well and truly on in coming weeks as a number of shoulders will be tapped, old crocks will be ruthlessly cast aside, the lame and the crippled will be pushed out of the igloo, more names added to the column headed DELIST, and younger players given ample opportunity to “show their wares in the top grade”.
But what youngsters?
From where?
Wonder what this year’s draft picks are up to?
Are they still injured and struggling through a Melbourne winter in short pants?
The Veszpremi kiddie, who’s had a couple of decent games in the past few weeks, was a draft pick of a couple of years ago, maybe even three years ago, so he’s been a long time coming on.
Noted that Jesse “James” White [who some crazed supreme optimists have foolishly dubbed as the new “white Goodes”] kicked 11 goals last week in the seconds against the mighty Tuggeranong outfit, and is crying out for a game in the seniors, but as for Mike Pyke, the former Canadian rugby “star”, holding some sort of future as a handy ruckman, well sorry, serious students of the game don’t rate him as anything more than having the potential to become an ordinary journeyman.
It’s a long row to hoe when your year is condemned by the main mentor as a write-off just a little way past the half way mark in the season.
Any rookies the Swans are able to pluck out of thin air will be eaten alive by the likes of Geelong and St Kilda over coming weeks, and with an it’s-all-buggered frame of mind instilled in the team by no less than the main mentor, Sydney is now in real danger of becoming a Fremantle-style laughing stock.
With such a defeatist attitude, at Sunday morning smoko by the magic waters, SC Roos, as he gazed out to sea, stroked his chin, and ran his fingers through what hair he has remaining – would have been having a good ponder, and the thought must have crossed his mind “am I the next one to go?”, surely?
Good to see that the club did in fact load BBB Hall into the back of a ute for a single lap of dishonour at the G.
But it came far too early for mine, with the suppurating sores still too raw.
My spy at the ground suggested that Bazza was about as popular as the recently deceased Robert “Dolly” Dunne as his single vehicle cavalcade passed the bays housing the rapidly dwindling ranks of Swans members.
To quote:
“The silence from the long suffering faithful in the stands on the western side of the SCG told the story. Who cares? Fukc off. You let the team down. We need you to be lining up at half forward today. Who cares about past glory? A tear welled in his empty eyes as he was paraded like a sideshow freak. I felt sorry for the bastard. But the Swans couldn't care less about how a broken man feels? Just get out of the Club! Now!”They should have waited for the St Kilda game for Hally’s tribute as he’s probably got more friends at the Saints for leaving the club when he did, than he does in Sydney right now.
Next thing, he’ll be lining up against Aussie Joe “I went twelve rounds with Ali” Bugner to slug it for the Australian heavyweight title at some sort of Rooty Hill RSL club rag tag fight night.
Five bucks in, and all the cheap beer you can drink.

SYDNEY: 4.2, 5.8, 7.11, 10.12 (72). Goals: O’Loughlin 3, Veszpremi 2, Roberts-Thomson, Goodes, O’Keefe, Barlow, Crouch
ESSENDON: 4.6, 8.8, 12.12, 15.17 (107). Goals: Lloyd 3, Winderlich 3, Lucas 3, Dyson 2, Reimers, Lonergan, Welsh, Stanton
At Sydney Cricket Ground.
Crowd: 30,924.

Easiest two premiership points of the year for sitting around and doing nothing.
This Sunday afternoon’s 2005 grand final rematch against the Cowboys at the Spiritual Home of Balmain rugby league, which this year happens to be 11th v 5th, will no doubt be season defining.
Might even make an effort to get on the 445 bus.

WESTS TIGERS: Bye.

Clark, Clarke & Co.

Willowists,

And the hopeless jokes purporting to run the game are seriously talking about four day test matches??
Bah! Humbug!
Bring back timeless tests.
Make ‘em battle it out to the death.
Ban the draw!
Or-Straya made a fundamental fatal mistake before a ball was even bowled in the Cardiff test match for mine, by not picking Clark No-E.
Why on earth would you leave out a bloke who is ideally suited to the conditions, has form on English tracks, heart, hates Poms and loves the Baggy Green?
Unforgiveable.
No-E would have tidied up the Pommy tail on the second morning instead of bleeding 99 runs, and would have won the match for you any time you liked on day five, if only he was asked, instead of seeing a platinum opportunity to take a priceless one-nil lead in a five match series go begging.
The tragedy is that barring anyone completely dropping their bundle, Stuart Clark now probably won’t get a game this tour, and will be condemned to rearranging the tumblers of well chilled gin & tonic on the dressing room silver drinks platter.
Still, no use crying over spilt milk, and in the final paralysis, the Poms have absolutely nothing at all to celebrate as they go to Headquarters.
Pleasing to see that MJ Clarke has left nothing of his talent and technique in South Africa, or at home for that matter.
However he did end up quietly frothing at the mouth about not managing to go on and score a big hundred, when a matter-of-fact ton was staring him in the face at 83 not out.
Suitably booted himself up the arse in the Monday morning fishwraps.
Still punching the cover drives and the classical straight drives, as well as the usual trademark off cutting off the back foot that give the field out there absolutely no chance at all,
while the pull shot off the spinners seems to have come back into his canon for this series.
And why not?
Can be an almost risk free profit on the scoreboard in the hands of a proper professional.
As always, impeccable footwork and seeing the ball like a footy with an eye like a dead fish.
He would have been filthy with himself about the shot he got out to -- for once his footwork deserted him and he found himself shuffling across the crease and then cramped for room by a short ball, only to watch the dolly fly away for a simple chance.
Silly.
Seems Pup has been drawn even closer into the inner circle this series as the board of directors continues to groom him for the captaincy.
Did like him playfully pretending to call the batsmen in well before Punter made the actual declaration, appearing on the balcony with his skipper at all the right moments etc, still, there were some terse exchanges as the Captain and Vice-Captain fielded at first and second slip late on day five and appeared to argue over what eventually became some rather bizarre bowling changes at the dénouement.
Doubt that Pup would have accepted any responsibility for the morning session on day two.
Suppose that’s the luxury to have when you are not actually in charge.
Bring on Lords for another round of the finest sight in world sport – Poms being ground into dust.

murdering someone in the toilet

Teary Hopefuls,

Well, as fearlessly predicted here last week, Big Bad Barry Hall shamelessly hounded out of the game.
A full blown obituary to come on Mad Monday, but suffice to say for the moment that he was an absolute ornament to the game.
Just a few words from one of the few people who really loved the flawed genius, SC Roos:
“As his coach for the past six years I will remember Hally as one of the greatest players to have played for this club; one of the genuine superstars of the game, his ability to be a match winner enabled him to take us to the level of the 2005 Premiership”.
It’s just very sad that he played his final game, in a losing side, on some god forsaken blasted heath in Adelaide, and that there will be no home ground farewell.
Having conferred club life membership on the bloke last year, the least the Swans could do is make the home game against St Kilda his benefit match; drive him around the SCG in the back of ute at half-time to allow his legion of fans to say goodbye.
All gate proceeds to The Great Man.
Watching the game on television on Sunday, it crossed my mind that no one really realised just how important BBB Hall is as the principal spearhead in the Swans forward set-up, until such time as he was banished to the sideline to write out his two hundred lines as punishment:
I will not clock blokes after the three quarter time siren.
I will not clock blokes after the three quarter time siren.
I will not clock blokes after the three quarter time siren.
While Magic tried hard at full forward, The Goodes Train had a quiet day by his standards, and while Barlow, Bolton and The Bird all chipped in from time to time, the absence of the big fella up front almost saw the Swans fall short of kicking enough goals to win.
While Rhino Keefe had his best game in weeks, and Rhyce “Rick” Shaw [who is looking more like a suicide bomber every day with that weird beard thingy under his chin] was clearly the best on ground by the length of the street; it was a pedestrian performance at best against an average opposition, who effectively gave the Swans a free get-out-of- jail card in the Championship Quarter.
Still, the stats guru’s are suggesting that with two teams way out in front, eleven wins might be enough to make the top eight this year.
Now without Hall, that remains a very very tough ask indeed for Sydney on six wins, with eight to play, four away, and St Kilda and Geelong still to come at home
On another worrying matter, seasoned observers at the ground insisted that the crowd figure was outrageously inflated.
Hardly a soul could be sighted in the new Doug Walters Stand, there was plenty of room in the cheap seats, and no one could be entirely sure if The Man and His Dog were even there.
Members who found something better to do, and the trainload of supporters from Blacktown who got waylaid in the Captain Cook Hotel on their way to the ground, must have been counted at the turnstiles, just to avoid the acute embarrassment of posting a crowd figure at the SCG of less than 20,000 for the first time in six years.
It was plain for all to see that Sydneysiders will just not show up to watch known losers go around.
God help the Western Sydney Shamrocks, because no one else will.


SYDNEY: 3.4, 7.6, 11.7, 15.10 (100). Goals: Barlow 2, J.Bolton 2, Goodes 2, Bird 2, O'Loughlin 2, Richards, Roberts-Thomson, Shaw, Veszpremi, O'Keefe
NORTH MELBOURNE: 3.3, 8.5, 10.6, 13.7 (85). Goals Jones 3, Harding 2, Swallow 2, Firrito 2, Hansen 2, Harris, Ross,
At Sydney Cricket Ground.
[Official] Crowd: 21,929.


No sooner than you blame the forward pack for the entire job lot of problems besetting the Balmain peninsular, what happens?
They play a collective blinder.
Admittedly, the forwards only really got going with Robbie Farah winding up as the main turbine in the engine room, with The Best Leb in the Game having his best outing since being selected in State of Origin One.
Crikey, even Ol’ Man Skando managed to barge over for a try, long after the issue of who got the premiership points had been settled.
But, some good old fashioned busting of the advantage line and some deft Farah dummy half work gave the backs some room to play for a change, and as a result the Human Wrecking Ball scored three first half tries without even raising a sweat.
As the Sunday fishwraps put it “Tigers feast on Bunnies”.
OK OK, so the Rabbitioh’s have let in a million tries his year and aren’t near the bottom of the ladder for nothing, but the Tiges now find themselves just four points outside the log jam that is the current top eight, so faint hope remains.
The win was all the more meritorious given that more than half the side was struck down with a gastric flu mid week, and SC Sheens was unable to get a full squad on the training paddock at anyone time, with one bloke or another tucked up in bed with a bucket.
On interview after the game, Benji was asked if he was among the afflicted.
He recounted his dressing room experience just before kick off.
“It sounded like I was murdering someone in the toilet. A few of the boys were pretty freaked out. It was a massive power spew”.


SOUTH SYDNEY RABBITOHS 20. Tries: Capewell (3), Merritt. Goals: Sandow (2)
WESTS TIGERS 54. Tries: Tuiaki (3), Ayshford (2), Payne, Moltzen, Ryan, Skandalis, Gallant. Goals: Marshall (7).
At Olympic Stadium, Homebush.
Crowd: 14,856.

hounded out of the game

Law enforcement officers,

So, big Bad Barry “never won a Brownlow – and proud of it” Hall puts his hand up for a two week rest on account of clocking some Adelaide fool, who’d been making a nuisance of himself throughout.
No harm in that
Barry’s only crime was that he decided to put on the innocent little love tap after the three quarter time siren.
Unforgiveable.
At least the tribunal saw it for what it was -- a waste of time and effort.
Poor Ol’ Bazza now finds himself between a rock and hard place, after vowing on national television that he was going to clean up his act and couldn’t see how anyone could not benefit from him playing a valedictory year next season.
Now he’s got the Commentariat howling that he’s played his last game for Sydney, or anyone else for the matter.
Straightforward comments like “If I was Roos, I wouldn’t go on with him next year” to inflammatory statements like “well, yes, Hall, just another one of those players who failed to live up to his potential”.
The Great Man even appears to have his coach against him, with quotes like “I don’t know if Hally really wants to play football, whether his mind is on boxing, or on something else, I just don’t know. I will discuss it with him in due course”, “people can retire mid-season, y’know, just ask Mickey O”.
SC Roos could always just drop the bloke to the seconds, as he did with another character with problems -- Nick Davis Come To Save Us -- and then put him in the column marked in capital letters DELIST.
But you’d hope the super coach is better than that.
Despite his public pronouncements, SC Roos among few others, would privately suggest that a negotiated, graceful exit, stage left for the ageing lunatic would be best for all concerned.
The stats guru’s couldn’t help but gloat that BBB Hall has been rubbed out by the tribunal for something like 26 matches over the course of his illustrious career, that’s a season, a whole season they shrilled, more, far more, than any other current player in just about any Australian Football league going.
Surely it’s just another case of an eccentric character being hounded out of the game.
It’s the same in sports across the globe in this politically correct world of ours.
Soon, we will end up with a bunch of footballers who all play the same, look the same, act the same, speak the same, and think the same…like so many footballing robots.
Australian cricket has already gone down that path with autonomons now playing the game, after stark ravers like Roy “doesn’t mind a drink in a crisis” Symonds, TSC MacGill and Long Donger Matthews, just to name a few, were ruthlessly expunged from the caper.
Could go on about it, but back to the match.
How did the Swans manage to contrive surrendering a 25 point half time lead for a three goal loss at the dénouement on the back of a vociferous home crowd with hopelessly biased umpires awarding ridiculous home town free kicks?
Should have done better in making sure the flood gates didn’t open.
Was it the Adelaide hoodoo?
Being scared of winning away?
Inability to put the jackboot on the jugular?
As St Paul says “I just don’t know”.

ADELAIDE: 1.3, 3.4, 9.7, 12.13 (85). Goals: Porplyzia 4, Tippett 2, Edwards 2, van Berlo 2, Stevens, McLeod.
SYDNEY: 2.2, 6.5, 8.6, 10.9 (69). Goals: Hall 4, Mattner, Jack, Shaw, Kirk, Brabazon, Crouch.
At Football Park, Adelaide.
Crowd: 38,064


If SC Sheens hadn’t realised before, that the obvious shortcomings and overwhelming problems of the Balmain pack are probably, even just past the half way mark in the season, insurmountable, he does now.
St George are not top of the table for nothing, and when you are faced with a mob of man mountains playing in concert, as a mate remarked “like a panzer division”, ruthlessly cutting a swathe down the middle of the battle field with the infantry jinking and weaving in behind them with all guns blazing, you know you are in trouble.
There’s no coaching against that sort of heavy artillery.
Thankfully in a season cruelled by injury there is very little blame to apportion, you can only do your best with limited resources against blokes who are too big, too strong, too fast, and too fanatical.
No use having perhaps the two best try scoring wingers in the game on your team when there’s very little genuine go forward from the pack.
No doubt the Club Secretary has by now given the abacus another whirr to a different set of calculations, racked up the salary cap dollar numbers, and wondered out loud to himself, “now, which big brown bastards can we buy for next season?”
At least SC Sheens has sensibly decided to discontinue the experiment with Benji at half-back, given the bloke is a dead-set born centre or five-eighth.
So you can add a new classy half back to the list for next season for that matter, Mr. Secretary.
Paradoxically, the Tiges are just two wins out of the top eight despite being second last on the ladder, so the diehards can live in the faint hope of a late season purple patch, in the sure knowledge that if they made the semi finals by some kind of miracle, they would be slaughtered.
The radio call did make mention of “aaahhh no, just look at that, the Tigers have gone and slaughtered yet another try”.
Nuff said.

WESTS TIGERS 10. Tries: Ryan, Marshall. Goals: Marshall (1).
ST GEORGE ILLAWARRA DRAGONS 21. Tries: Morris, Creagh, Hornby, Sailor. Goals: Soward (2). Field Goals: Soward (1).
At Sydney Football Stadium.
Crowd: 15,211.

let the pogrom begin

Disappointee’s,

However begrudgingly, you’ve got to hand it to Collinwood fans.
From the middle-aged woman attired in rather attractive two-tone black and white knee high boots, teamed with a black leather mini-skirt and this year’s model Collingwood top, crowned with a particularly fine black and white jester’s hat festooned with the buttons of all the current players, to the old blokes with seriously greying hair & beards wearing equally ancient Collingwood jerseys bearing hundreds of signatures that mustn’t have been washed in 30 years, to the half dozen jovially intoxicated Collinwood supporters who had no idea how they had managed to get on the No. 4 event bus in Campsie when they were staying in a city hotel.
More than 30 Magpies supporters buses did the all day drive from Melbourne, only to turn around and go back again straight after the game, in a long all nighter.
They are a class unto themselves.
Swans only had themselves to blame.
Young Teddy Richards crystallized the game with a brain explosion when he gave away a 50 metre penalty in the championship quarter that put the Magpies in their own goal square to snatch back a narrow lead from which they never looked back.
Worse still, earlier, Marty Mattner, playing at full back, kicked out from a rushed behind and only managed to put the ball clean into the bread basket of some grateful Collingwood player well inside the fifty, who returned the favour, played on, and booted an easy goal.
You could go on and on about the woeful sub-standard Bamfording, but why would you waste your breath?
Found myself on my feet agreeing with BBB Hall when he sacked some hapless Collingwood back in a bone crunching ball-and-all-tackle and then stood over him Mohammed Ali style giving him a bit of lip along the lines of “cop that, Sonny Jim”.
But it was about the only time.
Spent the first half shouting myself hoarse screaming “kick long, for gawd’s sake, kick it long!”
The short kicking game and a million hand-balls was always going to come unstuck on a heavy track [it had been raining heavily all day in Sydney, but remarkably, not a single drop fell during the game] against quality opposition.
It was the kind of conditions that Collingwood exploited perfectly with a “kick and hope” policy from the outset.
Didak was probably best on ground, which only goes to show that being run over by a Melbourne tram is no impediment to playing good football.
The stats guru’s couldn’t help but note that the Swans had a club record 418 disposals in the game!!
That’s right, four hundred and eighteen, the vast bulk of which were completely ineffectual.
Cap’n’ “never had a bad game” Kirk and Rhino Keefe had more than 40 each.
Never at any stage did SC Roos revert to Plan B, or if he did, it was obvious the players were taking no notice of him.
[Aside: Interesting that last week St Paul did concede in the press that from time to time, while in his cups, he has contemplated giving the game away himself at the end of the year, as the awful realization sinks in that he is now Sydney’s longest serving coach, given that he has always considered himself as just a “temporary” mentor].
Kirk, along with most seasoned observers, was absolutely furious come the final siren, and personally questioned several players’ commitment on the ground, something he later confirmed to the fishwraps
The crowd figure only goes to confirm that Sydneysiders are the most fickle football fans in the whole wide world, who will have no hesitation at all in deserting a losing team in droves.
In my estimation, at least a third of the audience were Collingwood supporters.
Just compare that mob with the Homebush record for a Swans Magpies fixture set in 2003, when 72,393 decided to go to the football.
You can easily see how a handful of journos, some match officials, a few ground staff, and The Man and His Dog would be just about the only people who’d bother to turn out for a Western Sydney game.
And who could blame them?
The atmosphere on the No. 4 event bus home, full as it was of red and white, was akin to something you might sniff in a dead dingo‘s donger.
Then, lo and behold, Michael O'Loughlin, clearly anticipating and then cleverly forestalling the inevitable tap on the shoulder, marches into SC Roos’ office on Tuesday morning and announces his retirement from the caper at the end of the season, acknowledging that it’s very tough when people in the game who you admire and respect are telling you that you have lost a yard or two.
While a glowing obituary for The Great Magic is for another time, suffice to say here the bloke has been an absolute ornament to the game.
500 goals and most likely 300 games in The Red and The White, well, for what more could anyone ask?
That should be enough to garner the great man life membership to just about anything that’s going, although the small matter of skin colour would probably preclude it from being offered by the Australian Club in Macquarie Street.
Shame.
Mickey O earned “The Great” honorific a long time ago, perches very high up in the Swans pantheon, and has been nothing less than a scholar and a gentleman for the past 15 seasons.
At least, in the final paralysis, he had the decency and sense to call it quits while he was still ahead, get out on his own terms, and put it all down to his mum.
He’ll be further admired for that as he goes around for the lap of honour.
Vale you good thing you.
If other ageing players who shall remain nameless fail to take his lead after what is highly likely to be another inevitable away loss to Adelaide this weekend, then let the pogrom begin.

SYDNEY: 2.2, 5.3, 9.6, 9.12 (66). Goals: Jack 2, O'Keefe 2, Hall 2, Goodes, Moore, Barlow.
COLLINGWOOD: 4.2, 7.7, 9.9, 13.11 (89). Goals: Davis 3, O'Bree 2, Didak 2, Dick, Brown, Anthony, O'Brien, Fraser, Swan.

At Olympic Stadium, Homebush.
Crowd: 41,042.



Speaking of fickle football fans, the Tigers match in Melbourne pretty much passed me by, as there were simply better things to do in the Emerald City of a Sunday afternoon.
The Good Lady Wife has even gone so far as to say that she might have lost interest in rugby league.
By the look of the scoreline, they gave it a pretty good shot, but SC Sheens reportedly suggested after the game that the Tiges had been “frightened of the ball” in the second half and were unable to push home what could have been a match winning momentum.
Haven’t received any eye witness accounts of the match at al+l, not surprising really, given that no one was in the ground, so not in a position to make any informed comment.
While Melbournians are well known for turning out in numbers to watch two flies crawl up a wall -- and despite having a former premiership winning team in their midst -- it appears rugby league would struggle to better lacrosse in terms of spectator interest in the Athens of the South.
SC Sheens will, as is his usual custom, eventually get around to marking that one down on the “we’ll learn from our losses” side of the coaches ledger, but the Club Secretary would no doubt by now be dusting off the abacus in the back of the sporting equipment room, seeing that Balmain is just to about to fall into the mathematical realm of making the top eight


MELBOURNE STORM 14. Tries: Cronk, Cross. Goals: Tomane (3).
WESTS TIGERS 12. Tries: Ayshford, Moltzen. Goals: Marshall (2).

At Olympic Park, Melbourne.
Crowd: 10,417

the human wrecking ball

Eternal optimists,

As word filtered through from the House of Pain that the Moltzen kiddie had been ruled out after doing himself a mischief on the warm up track for gawd’s sake, with SC Sheens forced to conjure up another full-back out of thin air, and the try scoring freak Lawrence also a late withdrawal, as well as the Tigers contending with a five year old hoodoo having failed to beat the Eels in their last eight encounters, you could have been forgiven for thinking it was time to ask the last person leaving the league’s club to switch off the light.
The ensuing 80 minutes just went to show that when the Balmain forward pack is going forward and the club’s two ponies are on song, with Benji and the Best Leb in The Game both vying for man of the match honours, the Tiges are still capable of beating any given side on any given day.
Tuiakai, who was described mid week as “the human wrecking ball”, also had a blinder, which never hurts – except for the blokes he runs into or puts a coathanger tackle on.
That said, with more players drawing payments from the Injured Players’ Benevolent Fund than are actually appearing on the training paddock week in week out, and Farah clutching at his ribs after booting a well timed tactical second half field goal with an experimental football that appeared to have been filled with helium to put the Eels two scores behind, and a cursory glace at the premiership table revealing that just six points separates fifth from 12th; hope must spring eternal.
Certainly that’s the case among the traveling die-hards, with seasoned observers at the ground noting that on a Monday night where it didn’t matter if the beers were served warm as they’d soon get cold enough in the Antarctic conditions, more Tigers fans braved the elements than did Parramatta supporters.

PARRAMATTA EELS 6. Tries: Burt. Goals: Burt (1).
WESTS TIGERS 23. Tries: Halatau, Mataka, Farah, Tuiaki. Goals: Marshall (3). Field Goals: Farah (1).
At Parramatta Stadium.
Crowd: 12,003.

Not much word has leaked of what was said and done at the traditional mid-season BBQ round at SC Roos place, although it seems there was plenty of room for some soul searching over a Fosters and a well charred hamburger patty.
However, a little birdie has been singing that senior administrators and various Pooh-Bah’s associated with the club did discuss and decide under a shade tree in a quiet corner beside the lap pool, that failure to beat Collingwood at the Western Paddock this Saturday night, and a similar result in the following away game against Adelaide, would undoubtedly mean ‘season over’, and automatically spark a wholesale review of the playing roster and the tap tap tap on various old and burnt out shoulders.
SC Roos would also be asked to clarify his future intentions.
Also interesting to note that the Swans’ two draft picks didn’t make it to the BBQ, after it was revealed they aren’t even in Sydney, let alone training.
Both are in Melbourne, nursing niggles, and studying for their end of school exams.
Did note also that at least a couple of players who could be in for a gold watch decided to eschew the social event altogether, and take themselves off to the south coast to “find some space”.
Perhaps they might have been better served with a visit to the Room Full of Mirrors down on the Balmain Road?

SYDNEY: Mid season bye.