a good ol' fashioned stink in the scrum

Long kickers,

After enduring the many vagaries of an 18th birthday party at our gaff on Saturday night, there was nothing for it to curl up on the lounge like some kind of fat white grub and wait for The Rules to come on the crystal bucket so one could watch it through half closed eyelids.
Lucky for me, or anyone else in the household for that matter, there were no moments of any notable excitement throughout the game to disturb my fallen over relaxation, as the Swans were just intent on getting the lead with a five goal first quarter and then playing ugly through to the final siren.
Time for a lazy Sunday afternoon slumber.
No more evinced by the fact that Sydney failed to score a single goal in the Championship Quarter - not that they were really trying very hard to in any case - and still won the match by 30 points!
And the fans love it.
They'll keep coming back week after week to see that.
Not.
It was one of those games where the scorers when asked to nominate "best" for the scorebox in the fishwraps for the next day would have had trouble picking anyone out, as it was a match where most players were satistfied with doing a bit here and there; Goodesy took a couple of good marks, kicked a few goals, Malceski and Kennelly, along with The Ugliest Man in Football did a good job shutting down the Norths forwards, while Jack, Hanneberry, and Mumsy et al all did a bit here and there up front, but it was anyone's guess as to who was best on ground.
Perhaps the bloke who never gets a mention on the scoresheet, Mike Pyke, who did a sterling job with the hit outs in the ruck, given that he has been hypnotised by the trick cyclists on the coaching staff into thinking that he is still in the line out.
As if they got to third gear, eased off the throttle, and then pushed the button marked "auto pilot".
It was all so cynical that SC Roos appeared to spend most of the last quarter picking his nose; he was that interested in what was going on.
If SC Sheeds can promise some razzle-dazzle football with Israel leading the way in the years to come, he'll get a lot of converts on board the western bandwagon, given that sort of display at the SCG.
In that case, the Swans would be forced to artifically inflate their turnstiles figures even further.
A seasoned observer at the ground sent me a telegraph message soon after the off saying "they'd be very lucky if they've got even close to 20 in".
Needless to say, he was simply astonished when they posted the official crowd.
Go figure.

SYDNEY: 5.4, 8.6, 8.9, 12.13 (85). Goals: Goodes 3, Shaw 2, McGlynn, Jack, Bevan, Mumford, Kirk, Dennis-Lane, Malceski.
NORTH MELBOURNE: 2.3, 4.7, 5.9, 7.13 (55). Goals: Campbell 2, Goldstein 2, Thomas, Bastinac, Adams.
At Sydney Cricket Ground.
Crowd: 23,856 (? ed).

In his spare time, Benji Marshall has been making a study of The Art & Science of The Field Goal, and has obviously come to the conclusion that he concurs with the basic tenet of "get one when you don't need one, because when you need one you might not be able to get one".
And what an absolute corker it was too, from a bloke who has all but given up kicking in general play.
On the toe just inside the half way mark, cannons high, wide and handsome - a veritable rainmaker - bends back slightly on the breeze and literally falls from a great height clean onto the top of the black dot, and then tumbles off on the correct side of the cross bar for one point.
Magnificent.
You could practice that kick from here to breakfast, and never nail it.
Right up there with a hole-in-one.
SC Sheens was moved to comment on interview after the game "i thought to myself 'what the hell is he trying to do here?', then i found myself saying to myself 'you bewdy!'...maybe the football gods did smile on us."
Also very pleasing to see a good ol' fashioned stink in the scrum, with The Best Leb in The Game prominent.
That well known idiot N.Friend had been giving Farah the silly un-called-for niggle all game.
The clip across the chops here, the elbow in the ribs here, a squirrle grip there, that sort of thing.
In the end, Farah had just had enough - you can only take so much gratuituous violence for so long - and when Friend tried to head butt him across the front row, that was the cue for a couple of short, sharp upper cuts from Farah in the scrum.
The packs exploded of course, and it was on for young and old, just like in the olden days.
While Friend did not aquit himself very well in the ensuing melee as he was somwhat dazed by the well placed punches, both escaped penalty which was only right and proper for mine, but the Bamford saw fit to send that well known fool M.Minichiello to the bin for carrying like some kind of bush turkey on heat in a business which was none of his business.
Now that's what the fans come to see.
Penalty leads to Balmain try with Titans down to 12 men, and a match winning 15-8 lead.
Defence again the key to a not too complex puzzle, and the longer the season goes on, the dourer doth the game become, as teams simply try to protect their ladder positions while trying not to get bashed up too much and keep their key men fit and out of harm's way.
Simply no need to excell to excess at this stage in proceedings.
The Club Secretary would have had the abacus out on the desk this week totting up the numbers, working out the probability, crunching the multiples and computing the edges of the margins in order to get his punts on; on a top three finish.
With three games yet to come at Leichhardt, and with five opponents in the current bottom eight in the last eight matches, he'd be shovelling the Disabled Players Benevolent Trust Fund cash into the bookmakers bag on the Tigers being somewhere in the JJ Giltinan Shield trifecta at any old odds.

WESTS TIGERS 15. Tries: Brown, Ayshford. Goals: Marshall (3). Field Goals: Marshall (1).
GOLD COAST TITANS 14. Tries: Rogers, Gordon. Goals: Rogers (3).
At Campbelltown Sports Ground.
Crowd: 14,050.

"déjà vu all over again"

Prescription drug abusers,

Another nicely played get out of jail free card.
And it was a very eerie repetition of Leichhardt a fortnight ago -- as Rabbits Warren said on the crystal bucket commentary "déjà vu all over again".
Opening play -- Brisbane make a complete mess of the kick off and the ball rolls through the in-goal into touch; Tigers score a try off the back of the half-way re-start.
And then, nothing but messy football right through to the denoument, with the unlikely Brown going over for a try, with less than two minutes left, to lock in the match winner.
Almost a perfect carbon copy of the Raiders game.
Quite weird.
The Balmain forwards put in their best performance for the year, for mine, with The Refrigerator, His Royal Heighington, The Bludnut, That Pom, and The Best Leb in The Game all prominent.
That's a very good thing given that forwards, even in this day and age, still tend to win games of rugby league football, while the backs can suit themselves.
The GLW was hysterical during a comical first half incident when nothing much at all was happening the game, and some Broncos player was tackled just short of the tryline and had his shorts pulled down in the process, and appeared to have a roll of toilet paper coming out of the wedge between his buttock cheeks, where he appeared to have had a nervous sticky shit in the rooms before running out on the ground.
Funny as a fit.
Talk about larf.
Turned out on replay it was just a shredded jockstrap, white in colour.
Behind and looking beaten with ten left on the clock, SC Sheens reaches for the rain coat in the un-covered dug out at The Cauldron like a firecracker with a slow burning fuse, given the Bamfords were having their worst shocker of the season, about which the less said, the better.
Suffice to say SC Sheens went completely apoplectic when the young Balmain kiddie Fifita was pinged for a knock on in the play-the-ball, when the replay revealed the play-the-ball was, in fact, dead-set legit, nothing at all wrong with it.
Yet another unwarranted home side penalty that would easily do your head in.
Under the rain hoodie on the bench, a rare stream of four-lettered invective issued forth from the coach's mouth directed fairly and squarely at the court jesters masquerading as match officials, along with a piercing glare of the visage that would have done The Men Who Stare At Goats proud.
The Great Sterlo on the unblinking eye wrap up was moved to comment "in a month, no one will remember how on earth they won that one".
Doesn't matter.
And no one will care, either.
Miraculously, the ladder position after last week's loss to the Saints was done no damage, and that remarkable win sees a top four spot now consolidated for the Mighty Tiges, for the time being.
The second best "we'll take our wins" victory of the season.

BRISBANE BRONCOS 14. Tries: Te'o, Beale. Goals: Parker (3).
WESTS TIGERS 16. Tries: Lawrence, Marshall, Brown. Goals: Marshall (2).
At Lang Park, Brisbane.
Crowd: 30,127.


As Richmond sang their wretched team song, it became apparent that the unmistakeable sound of the Swans' season being flushed down the toilet could also be distinctly heard in the background.
Not through to the S-bend yet at 7 and 7, but it won't take long.
There were dark mutterings of "utter disgrace!" among those who care in this household.
Getting beat by four by the team running stone motherless after leading by 33 in the Championship Quarter had more than a few dumbfounded.
An interesting stastistic was being bandied about prior to the game -- this season, the Swans had not won against a top eight side, and had not lost against a bottom eight side.
That was, until now.
It might be instructive to compare and contrast the games of the most inexperienced and the most experienced players in the side
The first gamer, Trent Dennis-Lane found that he has a helluva lot to learn if he wants to run with the big boys; too nervous for mine, might have kicked a bag of goals in the WAFL last year, but this is a different league.
He must be wondering about Karmichael Hunt and Israel Folau coming on board as multi-millionaire rookies, who will undoubtedly face the same problems as he is facing now, when he'd be lucky to be on the wage of a brickies labourer.
The Goodes Train as a make shift full forward might be good in theory, but given he has lost his twinkle toes over recent weeks, and the ability to put the ball on the end of a string, and was exposed in the second half despite coming good, as he could only get a kick when the midfield finally woke up and directed accurate kicks onto the chest on a well timed lead.
There's no use being any less than blunt about it -- The Train should think seriously about joining his mate Magic in The Pantheon, and as for Cap'n'Kirk, well he should just follow through with his committment, and retire forthwith, without any further ado.
No Bradshaw [wasn't he a good buy in retrospect after setting the world on fire in the first few games when he wasn't suffering from a knee?], while the Great Irishman is obviously struggling with the knee, as he was pretty much proppy throughout, and there's nothing for smoko.
SC Roos had gone from an excitable madman in last week's last quarter to a sullen rooster, who knows full well that he is destined for the pot.
No sooner was everyone thinking that my mate Cuz was having a blinder out of the blue in the second half - dead set looked like the bloke was back on the fabulous marching powder, a cheeky half time snort, that sort of thing - than lo and behold he ends up in intensive care at a suburban hospital the morning after, when some floozie in his flat couldn't rouse him from his slobbering slumber.
Why didn't that surprise?
No one was that concerned given that it took triage an hour and fifteen minutes to admit The Iceman to the general wards before someone decided to park him in ICU for the night, on the basis of his previous form.
Then the Richmond Football Club comes out with the excuse that he was crook as Rookwood due to taking a dodgy sleeping pill and a bad ice cube to come down from the buzz and the thrill.
Why didn't that surprise?
It's a wonder Cuz didn't come out of it without brain damage?
But then again, who knows how many brain cells were there to start with.

RICHMOND: 3.0, 5.0, 9.3, 14.5 (89). Goals: Riewoldt 5, Collins 3, Newman 2, Farmer, Martin, Griffiths, Nason.
SYDNEY: 3.3, 6.6, 10.11, 12.13 (85). Goals: McVeigh 3, Goodes 2, Moore 2, Jack, McGlynn, Pyke, Mumford, Dennis-Lane.
At Melbourne Cricket Ground.
Crowd: 39,386.

carrying on like a pork chop

Brave beserkers,

It was a sight to behold.
SC Roos going absolutely ballistic, off his chops, in an apoplectic rage in the three quarter time huddle, as the players looked on in startled terror, culminating in the coach tearing up the game plan into small pieces.
He must have been on some powerful drugs if his crazy madcap last quarter antics were anything to go by.
SC Roos spent the final stanza prowling the boundary line like some pyschiatric out-patient, leaping about maniacally and laughing hysterically, chucking bits of the game plan around in gay abandon, poking assistant coaches with his forefinger just for fun, tearing off strips of paper that were remaining on the clip board and screwing them up into balls, and throwing them at players sitting on the bench, hoping to dong one of them on the head, and generally carrying on like a pork chop.
Scenes never witnessed before at the Olympic Stadium.
The bloke has finally cracked; gone mental by his own admission "players who are unable or unwilling to stick with the game plan is something I will not miss about coaching" {my italics}, he said on interview after the game when asked to explain away his bizzare behaviour.
But the man can be be forgiven, given the team on the park he was allegedly in charge of was all over the shop like a mad woman's breakfast throughout proceedings.
Won't name the guilty, because they know who they are.
As we ingressed at the ground it became obvious, as it always does, that there were far more Pies fans than Swans fans going in.
Always the way.
Just the nature of the beast.
The cheapest seats behind the southern goal where the Collingwood cheer squad live, next to the cheap seats we were sitting in, was thick in black and white, mainly those from the scores of chartered buses that make the trip each year from Melbun arriving just in time for the opening bounce, and then turn around immediately after the match and go straight back in time for breakfast at home.
Supporters of the 'Pies are everywhere, and they travel.
Seen them in their Collingwood jerseys in the remotest parts of Indo-China in my time, so getting to the Western Paddock was no issue.
Well remember getting along to my first ever Collingwood game at the SCG, back in the glory days when the Swans were the Leanne and Dr Edelsten show with Warwick "fruit shop down the front of the pants" Capper turning out at full forward, and there were several hundred of them enjoying themselves in the MA Noble Stand bar, all wearing specially made black and white rosettes which had printed around the magpie motif "COLLINGWOOD -- PRIDE OF THE NATION".
Thought then, and still think now, that they were drawing a long bow.
Still, the so-called "Fanatics" have got nothing on these people.
But back to the game.
Difficult to compete when the Swans found themselves outclassed all over the field, with every Collingwood player seeming to have at least an extra yard of pace over their opponents; young, old, infirm, it didn't matter.
After three quick behinds from the visitors kicked from right in front of us to start, Sydney never led at any stage in the match, and not for the first time this season found themselves playing miserable catch up football against a side that had loose men everywhere.
Collingwood should have won by alot more.
Losing Bradshaw and the Great Irishman on game day to long term knee niggles had them behind the eigtht-ball from the off.
Won't get very far without a full-forward or a full-back.
The trip home on the event bus was a solem affair as the realisation slowly sunk in among the loyal passengers that the Swans on that showing will be lightly toasted brown bread in about five minutes in September, if they get that far.
While the Western Paddock remains a superb bit of architecture for shifting a large crowd around with the minimum of fuss, having got it right the first time around for the Olympics, the beer is still as bad as ever.
Why is that?
Ten years to solve a problem and yet no one in charge appears to have put their minds to it.
And most disappointed to find that you can no longer steal a pie.
They have simply disappeared, vanished.
The self serve pie warmers in the bars have been stripped out and replaced with tubs of free bottled water on ice.
Something to do with Australia's draconian drinking regulations it said on the sign pointing out that it was free, something along the lines of drinking water is good for you if you are drinking; while it's only taken them five years plus to realise that while they had no trouble moving all the pies out of the warmers during the course of a match, very few of them actually went through the cash registers.
Surely, offering free food is a much better option for drinkers who would treat bottled water with disdain, even if it was free?
A welcome benevolent touch from the promoters for the punters in the form of a complimentary puff pastry case filled with cheap meat and offal gravy, done away with, just like that, at the stroke of some bureaucrat's pen.
Every day, some underpinning slips away...
Whatever drugs SC Roos is on -- well, by crikey, we all want some of those.

SYDNEY: 2.3, 4.4, 6.7, 10.11 (71). Goals: O'Keefe 3, McGlynn 2, Kirk, Bird, Shaw, Rohan, White,
COLLINGWOOD: 3.6, 7.11, 10.17, 13.18 (96). Goals: Dawes 3, Sidebottom 2, Cloke 2, Brown 2, O'Brien, Dick, Didak, Jolly.
At Olympic Stadium, Homebush.
Crowd: 47,585.

The game at Kogarah had that air of inevitability about it - but that's what you get when you play teams that are patently well over the salary cap.
They don't call their leagues club the Taj Mahal for nothing.
And then, knock me down with a feather, no sooner had the Saints beaten the Tigers than they announced with great fanfare that they had signed Mark Gasnier just before the June 30 deadline and were going to bring him back to his spiritual home from the fabulously well-salaried Elysian Fields of French Rugby Union; available to play on the next weekend if you like.
How does that work?
How could they possibly fit the likes of Gasnier under the cap on the bloated stipend he's become accustomed to, unless they signed him on a sausage roll and a half a bottle of beer contract?
Another case of why the cap remains important.
Who needs a two horse race come September?
With everyone else just nipping at their ridiculously over-paid heels?
SC Sheens was resigned to it all as just another reminder to "learn from our losses", hitting the nail on the head when he said on interview after the game:
"I said to the guys that if they want to run with the big boys then they have to be able to handle those sorts of games".
SC Sheens is a long time dedicated pragmatic realist with very little hair left on his scone, who went onto to say that in his opinion, on current form, they'd struggle to be competitive in a semi-final.
An ominous warning to a team playing at almost full strength that they really need to find some more to get on in the caper.
A good job for Roycee Simmons, as he has that canny knack of being able to fix things, aka the bleedin' obvious, without anyone ever asking.
The GLW got quite sick of the sight of the St George full back J.Soward on the telly as he kept on plonking them over the black dot, and gave him a new nickname, "Duck Bum", on account of the way he holds his posterior when he lines up for a kick at goal.
It is almost laughable.
She was keen on blaming Duck Bum for everything, and who could blame her?


ST GEORGE ILLAWARRA DRAGONS 34. Tries: Boyd, Creagh, Morris, Soward, Stanley. Goals: Soward (7).
WESTS TIGERS 10. Tries: Lawrence, Tuqiri. Goals: Marshall (1).
At Kogarah Jubilee Oval.
Crowd: 16,574.

Craven.

all over in the blink of an eye

Screaming Believers,

There is no other sound on the planet quite like that of a jam packed crowd at Leichhardt Oval going completely and utterly beserk at the sight of a late, match winning Balmain try.
The sheer deleriousness cannot be comprehended unless you are there.
Little wonder the fans keep flocking back to the joint "dripping with atmosphere" with its long held reputation as by far and away the best "seeing ground" in Sydney, if not the world.
They can build all the rectangular football stadiums they like, but Leichhardt takes the biscuit, being as it is, a brilliantly thought out combination of a natural/man-made ampitheatre carved out of the side of a very steep hill [which from the shores of Iron Cove to the main entrance on Mary St, is no easier to climb the older you get].
Got to the ground an hour before kick off in the company of the GLW, Balmain stalwart that she is, to snatch the customary spot on the low stone wall near the north-eastern corner flag.
The usual supects were in, including the three or month old child in the sling over the mother's breasts, dressed from head to toe in the hand knitted hand me down Balmain baby wear with a particularly nice little beanie on, to the wizened old blokes in historic Western Suburbs Magpies gear that always look straight out of ZZ Top, what with those beards and all.
In between were your Balmain fans, in all ages, shapes and sizes, including the obligatory apoplectic one sitting in front of us who spent the entire game screaming 'Effort! Effort!" while thrashing his poor hat across his knees at poor decisions, poor options, and poor performance.
Good to see that the long overdue four foot high cyclone safety fence now constructed along the back of the hill at the northern end to prevent drunks falling off the edge could still be scaled by exuberant teenagers for a roll down the steep drop on the other side.
And no amount of fencing was going to stop the older children climbing up in the Port Jackson figs trees for a magnificent birds eye view of the game.
After Canberra made a terrible mess of the opening kick off with the ball rolling out the back of the in-goal, and Balmain quickly scored a try off the back of the centre-line re-start, we thought were in for a picnic just two minutes into the thing.
But the game soon enough became a dire struggle in the old fashioned bash 'em up & drag 'em out style much loved by traditionalists, with the forwards cancelling each other out and good field position very hard to come by.
At 6-6 at half time it was, in the words of the prophet, "anyone's game".
As the GLW remarked at full time "truth be known, there was only eight minutes of good football in all that lot"
Things didn't get any better in the second half as the Raider's, playing some vey big and imposing units in the pack, started smacking the Balmain forwards something bad.
Nothing improved when Canberra was gifted a penalty goal by the Bamford for some imaginary indiscretion with ten minutes left, pushing the score out to 6-8.
Balmain looked like a done dinner with about eight minutes left when Benji bombed what for all the world looked like the match winner, failing to latch onto an admittedly wild pass, and knocking the pill a mile forward.
But he redeemed himself brilliantly with six minutes left on the scoreboard clock, when he'd busted a couple of tackles and found himself plain sailing to the try-line out on the right edge, but knew before anyone else that he would be tackled into touch, and called out to Beau Ryan "yours!"
Ryan, who was running through like the clappers found himself with the full back and a winger to beat, but had no room to move either on the right and no one on-side on the left, so dropped the pig-skin onto his toe, to put in the deftest grubber that you ever want to pay money to see, re-gathered, and scored himself...
Brilliant!
It was all over in the blink of an eye
It was then that the ground went crazy ape-shit.
Been a while since the full twirling dervish has been performed.
It involves leaping off the wall and jumping about like some lunatic doing the full 360' in banshee-like fashion, waving the arms about in a FRAP [frantic random activity pattern], while screaming "gimmee ten!".
The rather vocal Raiders fan standing behind us, who'd entered into an entertaining barracking battle with me, expressed no emotion and looked ashen faced, as if he had turned into a pillar of salt
Benji added the extras for 12-8.
Game over, just like that.
Minutes later, pretty much at the denoument, off the bench Fitzhenry found himself entirely unmarked at the play the ball, scooted clean through the advantage line and ran 60 metres to score under the black dot to put the fruit on the sideboard.
Tried to discern a smile on the face of SC Sheens, who by then was out of his chair in the dug out and stalking the sideline soccer manager-style, but couldn't see one.
"well take our wins".
Leichhardt is still the only football ground left in the country where they feel no need to serve warm beer in flimsy plastic cups, try a $6 ice cold can of Carlton Draught or Fosters Lager instead, the choice is yours.
Still the only football ground in the country where you can smoke your head off in the outer, and no one cares
But, why is it always me?
Within mintues of gaining admission to the ground, was already botted for a smoke by some wild-eyed subbie.
As he gasped hungrily on the cigarette he remarked loudly
"aaaugh! if we win today, we'll be ON FIRE!"
Yep, yr right there, mate.
"aaaugh! if we win today, reckon we''ll be right for the GRAND FINAL!"
Got it in one there, mate.
"aaaugh! we can't let TIM SHEENS down!"
He finished off the gasper, stamped it with his unsteady foot, and went on his merry way a happy man.
Standing in a beer line before kick off, The Great Paul "There is No Greater Fear, than the Fear of Fear Itself, except Sirro" Sironen barreled past with a retinue in his wake on his way to his private box.
Someone called out "Hey Sirro!! You've still got one good game left in you mate!!"
The Great Sirro [now retired 14 years with 246 games under the belt] could only roll his eyes and say "Joisus Christ, mate! you've gotta love Leichhardt Oval of a Sunday afternoon".

WESTS TIGERS 18. Tries: Ryan (2), Fitzhenry. Goals: Marshall (3).
CANBERRA RAIDERS 8. Tries: Monaghan. Goals: Croker (2).
At Leichhardt Oval.
Crowd: 19,428.

SYDNEY: AFL mid-season break.

a classic exposition of sitting on the football

Tacticians,

The final quarter was a classic exposition of sitting on the football.
After getting away to what looked like a match winning lead at half time, the Swans thought it only necessary to kick but one goal in the Championship Quarter, and then promptly shut the game down with endless stacks-on-the-mill, restricting the opposition to just two behinds in the last stanza,
Brilliant tactics, eh?
Worked in '05, why not now?
Also neatly demonstrated the inestimable value of winning away.
Excellent to see the best-on-ground, Nick Malceski, make a fashion statement and go all retro, having got the feel of the Antarctic conditions in Adelaide in the winter time, as the weather just barrels up from the Southern Ocean, by sporting the designer long sleeve guernsey.
On recollection, in the recent past Paul Kelly favoured the long sleeve from time to time, while Plugger was known to don one on occasion, but you'd probably have to go way back to Murray Weideman at the West Adelaide Blood'n'Tars to find someone who wore sleeves full time, come rain hail or shine, cold day or not.
Marty Mattner has obviously worked out the wide open spaces of Football Park Having played a hundred games for the Crows while on loan from Sturt, without anyone noticing, before coming to his senses and moving to Sydney; putting in his usual serviceable game.
Mummy is proving more than serviceable in the ruck in a defensive set up, keeping anyone they might put up against him on a tight leash, while J.Bolton has had two blinders in a row.
Sensible to give the Jetta kiddie, who's out of his depth in this company, a game or two in the reserves, as there's not much point sending a boy on a man's errand at this time of the year so early in the lad's career.
As the players gird their loins for the arduous task of preparing for this weekend's traditional mid-season break beers and BQQ around at SC Roos' place, [don't know who's going to cook the filet mignon -- that used to be BBB Hall's job], SC Roos would be contemplating his retirement, asLongmire surveys the season horizon at 7-5 thinking there is still some chance of making the top four, slim as that may be.
Still, looking down the telescope, another purple patch could well be in the offing if they keep their nerve, with Collingwood (h), Richmond (a), North Melbourne (h) and Melbourne (a) all eminently winnable before Geelong (h).
Always encouraging to find yourself half way through the race, without the wheels having fallen off.

PORT ADELAIDE: 4.0 6.2 8.5 8.7 (55). Goals: K. Cornes, Trengove, Hartlett, Hitchcock, Boak, Davenport, Ebert, Thomas
SYDNEY: 3.2 10.4 11.6 14.9 (93). Goals: Goodes 3, Hannebery 2, J.Bolton 2, Kennedy 2, Malceski, McVeigh, McGlynn, Jack, Kirk.
At Football Park, Adelaide.
Crowd: 20,106.


As the Tigers enjoyed the traditional beers and second bye of the season BBQ round at SC Sheens' gaff [Taniela "the Human Wrecking Ball" Tuiaki, with plenty of timen on his hands, got a few of his mates from Parramatta to come around with a couple of small pigs for the players to havea bit of fun with chasing around the yard, before they were duly spit-roasted. Bless], "That Pom" Ellis was the only bloke doing any work -- 12,000 miles away -- as he scored two tries and murdered a few opposition forwards for England in their 60-6 demolition of France at the new Leigh Sporting Village outside Manchester.
Back on the jumbo in time for this weekend's long awaited return to the Spiritual Home of Balmain Rugby League, Leichhardt Oval, where the hapless Raiders can expect the usual ritual pasting.

BALMAIN TIGERS: Bye.

well known mud larks & white elephants

Weathermen,

After the best part of five inches of rain had fallen across the Emerald City in the week previous, weekend football was always going to be an interesting prospect on uncovered grounds.
On the first of only two trips this season to the Western Paddock where the turf is traditionally cut long, the Tigers tried the traditional wet weather techniques on a mud pile but found there was no forward momentum on the toe-poke and the grubber through the tall grass, then tried the bomb, but the Bulldogs' backs proved surprisingly solid in the air under the high ball.
Oh well, nothing for it then but some good ol' fashioned grunt in the forwards to establish field position, and then take your rare chances to score when they come.
With a narrow second half lead a 71st minute field goal was a dead set certainty to put on the one point break, but it came from a highly unlikely source via the young Lui kiddie, who has never kicked a football in his life, with the Best Leb in The Game again laying the decoy, just as he did the week previous in similar conditions.
Brilliant.
It was just the cleverer wet weather football of the two on show
Heard the ABC Radio sideline eye saying that when he was asking some Balmain official what the coach did at half time, Bryce Gibbs ran past him in the race on his way back onto the ground and called out "Sheens said - anyone who makes a run, take his head off".
Little wonder then that Gareth "That Pom" Ellis was named as a unanimous man-of the-match in made-to-measure conditions.
The bloke has no shortage of experience playing on the various quagmires scattered among the dark satanic mills of northern England.
SC Sheens again effusive in his praise on interview: ''In my time here, dollar-for-dollar, he's been the best buy this club has had.''
Ellis flew back to the UK on Monday so he can play for the Poms in a 'test' match against France this weekend at the brand new bleak stadium in Leigh.
Asked how he thought the French forwards would go up against "That Pom", SC Sheens simply replied "he'll kill them".
Did note mid-week that the NSW selectors named an unprecedented 21 man squad for State of Origin II, due to looming suspensions and niggling injury, while QLD named a regulation 13 man team, a four man bench, plus one standby, and yet, no where among them is there a Tigers player.
Admittedly, Balmain does field a few South Sea Islanders, some Poms, and a Kiwi, but if both sets of selectors are to be believed, the Mighty Tiges do not boast a player in Australia's top 39.
How does that work?
This for a team that after this weekend's bye, no matter what happens, will still be just two wins out of top place on the Premiership table.
The faceless men in charge of these state selection matters are obviously drunken court jesters who would not know a good player if one fell on them from a great height.
Doesn't matter.
Winners are grinners, and losers can just go please themselves.

CANTERBURY-BANKSTOWN BULLDOGS 12. Tries: Ryan, Morris. Goals: Goodwin (2).
WESTS TIGERS 19. Tries: Farah, Marshall, Dwyer. Goals: Marshall (3). Field Goals: Lui (1).
At Olympic Stadium, Homebush.
Crowd: 11,837.

Had to reach for the bottle of heart pills and a large snifter with the scores all tied up at half time and three quarter time and there being 17 lead changes throughout with the nine point margin at the finish being the biggest, after getting a feeling in my water that the Swans were about to be on the recieving end of another small-margin loss.
Very fortunate they eventually claimed the Marn Grook Trophy by the skin of their teeth.
The boggy track wasn't helped as it began to bucket down mid-way through the Championship Quarter.
Good thing they kicked more behinds than Essendon early in the game.
Symptomatic of Sydney's problems at the moment was Haneberry, brilliant one week, then completely missing in action the next.
Obviously likes the going to be on top of the ground.
Consistent week in week out performances by the best players is simply not there.
Back in football's olden days stretching well in the late 60's, they used to scratch certain footballers on dead tracks on badly maintained suburban grounds, going with the horses for courses principal, and playing well-known mud larks in their stead.
But that was back in the day when the drop kick for goal was still king.
The Swans should have opened up a match-winning lead when some buffoon playing for the Bombers going by the name of Courtenay Dempsey [what was his mother thinking and why didn't his father put a stop to it?] was slugged with a 100m penalty [the ground is only 152m long!], the first fifty for being a fool, then the second fifty for back-chatting the Bamford, but Marty Mattner wound up kicking himself when he blindly missed the gift from straight in front.
The Goodes Train, after struggling all day having lost [you would hope, only temporarily] his trade mark ball-on-a-string, and [more worryingly] a yard or two of pace, managed to somehow conjour up the match winning goal.
Who would have thought?
6-5 at the mid way point in the season after two close run things against similarly credentialed sides probably says the Swans are not good enough to do any better than the bottom half of the top eight, if that, unless they can pull the finger out of the dyke in the run home.
Not to worry, luck's a fortune, and they continue to do sensationally well at fudging the gate receipts.
A seasoned observer at the ground has told me off the record that he was astonished when the official crowd figure was announced at three-quarter time.
He got out the handy theodolite he had in his picnic hamper and did a rudimentary survey of the ground and concluded that if there were almost 30,000 in on the day, then the capacity of the SCG must be close to 65,000.
Last time I looked, even after they built the New Doug Walters Stand, the officially listed capacity of the SCG is now 46,000.
Mind you, it had begun to rain and some punters had left the ground by the last break, but it was by no means a steady stream, as the closeness of the match had kept most in, you would think.
In any case, you do the maths.
They must have all been in the bars...
Speaking of rorts...
Did note mid week, as an aside, that this week's state budget papers make a provision for the hapless put-upon NSW taxpayer to fork out no less than $35 million on the redevelopment of the old Olympic baseball venue at the Sydney Showground at Homebush to expand its capacity from 12,000 to 25,000 to serve as the home ground for Team GWS.
Exactly how many more white elephants do we need at Homebush?
When Uncle Kev Sheeds floated the idea with the former Premier, Nathan Rees, a year ago, Greasy Reesy publicly said on the record that the whole concept was quite ridiculous would be a "monumental waste of time and money".
My, oh my; the more things change, the more they stay the same.

SYDNEY: 3.3, 7.5, 10.12, 12.17 (89). Goals: White 3, Rohan 3, Bevan 2, Goodes 2, Smith, J. McVeigh.
ESSENDON: 2.2, 7.5, 11.6, 12.8 (80). Goals: Leroy Jetta 3, Gumbleton 2, Davey 2, Lonergan, Welsh, Howlett, M.McVeigh, Zaharakis.
At Sydney Cricket Ground.
Crowd: 29,321.

pup's new lie down

Rooting Kings,

MJ Clarke hasn't been up to much since the sad demise of his engagement, apart from being widely criticised for playing a Mike Brearly role in losing the T20 World Cup to the Evil Poms, so its encouraging to see Pup has a potential new lie down, even though they haven't done it yet.
All class, Michael.
"Only a matter or time", according to sources close to Clarke's management:
[[http://www.financialexpress.com/news/Alexandra-smitten-by-Michael-Clarke/630532/]]
Check out the sensational CSL's.
Best seen in decades.
MJ must be thinking "I could really see myself putting my pee-pee in there".