the floodgates

Umbrellarists,

It was a fairly typical autumn weather week in the Emerald City, before the advent of climate change.
Completely normal.
Coastal showers followed by more heavy coastal showers, with the diurnal range starting to bite.
About 80mm in the gague at Camp Campsie over five days, so it was always bound to be a heavy track at HQ.
In the end, the players destroyed the centre square, and the SCG groundsmen would have been after both teams muddy guernsey's and shorts to put through the copper to wash out the priceless black Bulli soil to re-cycle as top-dressing in the summer.
You could see why the Goodes Train had his cranky head on, as it's hard to say whether he ever had a clean take of the soap-cake ball in the entire match, and spent most of his time clocking opposition players and knocking them over, and pointing and glaring at his own blokes.
Forgot a few times that he's given up the captaincy.
Never mind.
The current two skippers were Best on Ground, for mine.
3 votes Odd Head for being the most mud covered player on the ground.
2 votes Son of Garry for sitting on and shutting down Son of God.
1 vote for the Haneberry Kiddie just for being a top bloke.
Special mention should also be made of Spida Jnr and The Crazy Canadian.
Just for throwing their weight around in the bog.
After the Champo, the result, of course, was never in doubt.
With Gold Coast tired and pretty much in disarray, the floodgates were always going to open after three-quarter time, and with six goals in the denoument, so it came to pass.
A game that never looked like achieving great heights.
SC Horse would take very little from it, apart from the improvement in match fitness and being a good training run in the wet.
And they're bound to encounter some of that in the completely insane road trip they are about to embark on.
Pop down to Hobart to play North at 'home', then back to HQ for the trifling matter of a game against Geelong, on a rarely scheduled Friday night in Sydney, before rowing across The Ditch to take on the out-of-sorts and under-manned Saints on Anzac Day at The Cake Tin in Wellington, of all gawd forsaken places.
Still, after unfurling The Flag - which actually looks more like a pennant, as it should - at home for the first time as defending premiers, might as well take The Champions of the World on an international overseas tour to spread the love.
Whoever the bright spark was who dreamt that up was a dead-set genius.

SYDNEY: 2.1, 6.4, 11.10, 17.12 (114). Goals: McVeigh 4, Everitt 2, Parker 2, Pyke 2, O'Keefe 2, McGlynn, Bolton, Kennedy, Jack, Jetta
GOLD COAST: 2.2, 3.4, 8.6, 11.7 (73). Goals: Dixon 3, Hall 2, Matera, Hutchins, Shaw, Day, May, Smith.
At Sydney Cricket Ground.
Crowd 20,372.

What a silly game of football.
Tigers cruelly caned in the penalty count to the ridiculous tune of 14-7!
The Umpires certainly liked the sound of the little birdie singing in their whistles.
Never mind that Balmain came to play smart and dirty, and were officially warned no less than three times about pinning the player down in the tackle to slow down the play-the-ball, and were threatened with the skipper being sent to the sin bin in the end, while the Best Leb in the Game consistently held that line with the Bamfords', "but it wasn't us, yr honour, we never done it, honest".
As Joey Johns said on the wacky MMM radio commentary in Dad's Shed "giving the referee a bit of lip is like talking to yr wife or girlfiend, it doesn't matter if she's right or wrong, there is absolutely no point in going on with it".
Trying something different by playing Robbie out of position a bit, effectively giving him a roving brief through the back line and the Great Benji handing over the goal kicking duties to Braith Anasta; a job he had at the Roosters - he's a better sharp-shooter at the black dot, anyway - were both smart moves.
With the forward pack putting in some very solid work, it worked a treat for the first 60 minutes, but then, all of a sudden, without warning, the Bamfords went off their tits, and Melbourne ran in three unanswered tries off penalties to put the thing in the dilly bag as the fat lady started singing.
Fancy leading 12-6 at half time, and getting done 26-12 through no real fault of your own [sort of]?
Rules are made to be broken, but still, robbed blind.
Captain Farah, on interview after the game understated the matter: "I am sure some of the penalties were warranted...there were some that were frustrating and my view was different on them to the refs view."
Coach Harry would probably be perplexed, as he can see that even if the refs are on your side, the truth is the Mighty Tiges will struggle to be competetive with the really good sides this season, and in a comp with no real also-rans - anyone can win anything on their day - they'll have to continue to win at home and snag a few away to have any hope at all of making the top eight.
But that should go without saying.
Mildly comforting that Balmain have played the two most likely Grand Finalists this season in the last two weeks, so handy to get them out of the way this early on.
However, Mr Potter will have to put his thinking cap on, followed by his wizard's hat, to get them out of the bottom eight on the table, even in the near term.
To make matters worse, Marshall has done a mischief to his toe, of all things, and could be out for any number of weeks you might nominate - there's been no word from Sick Bay, on the fear that it looks bad.
If that's the case; season over.
And two Balmain players, including Anasta, have been rubbed out for a week on hastily cobbled-together trumped-up "dangerous contact" charges.
What next, Fawlty?

MELBOURNE STORM 26. Tries: Cronk, Fonua, Vave, Waqa. Goals: Smith (4), Widdop (1).
WESTS TIGERS 12. Tries: Marshall, Tedesco. Goals: Anasta (2).
At Melbourne Rectangular Stadium.
Crowd: 18, 866.

welcome to the long weekend

Long Sufferer's,

Robbed blind, in the rain, in Gosford, to nil.
Welcome to the long weekend.
Whoever the bright spark was who scheduled a match in Gosford on Maundy Thursday obviously had rocks in his head, what with the home side effectively "away", the opposition on the other side of the Bridge, and the F3 Freeway - the only way to drive there - choked with Easter traffic, makes it just brilliant for the travelling fan.
You'd imagine most of the people in the stands and on the bleachers at Singo Stadium would have been white-bread refugees from Sydney, driven out by the ever more madding crowd and the ridiculous property prices, who are now permanent residents of the Central Coast, who took their allegiances with them.
It was unusually hot for an alleged autumn day, but then the southerly with patchy rain swept in just in time for the game, and the players had trouble with the greasy ball.
But then the Bamfords stepped in and gave the game to the home side on a silver platter.
The Manly try off a blatant forward pass just set the tone, with the other tries all a matter of conjecture, with arms and legs going everywhere over the touchline as the try scorer knocked out the corner post.
What use are touch judges in this day and age, with dodgy TV replays right, left and centre??
And the only time the Tiges went over, the try was disallowed on account of a faint hint of sheparding from the Try Scoring Freak, and ruled as obstruction.
What the?
Have they changed the rules?
The Balmain skipper on interview after the game said he now has trouble reading the rule book on that interpretation, and might as well give up the "second man play" if that's going to be the case.
An utter shocker from the rude bastard referees.
But, in truth, Balmain had only themselves to blame.
It's the first time they have been held to SFA in almost four years.
Oh, dear.
After six consecutive possessions and forcing Manly into their own in-goal five times, they couldn't convert that pressure into any points, and it all went down the toilet from there against a side that could well be described as pretty handy, an early Premiership favourite you would have thought on that defence, even though you have to wonder how they can afford that many representative players under the salary cap rules, let alone pay the umpires.
Nothing to worry about when there's plenty of money in the back office, where the accounts are only kept haphazardly.
Things tend to go more smoothly when you live on the right side of the tracks.
The scoreboard doesn't lie, so that's all the more reason to hate Manly.
The animosity goes back to the 50's and 60's when Manly were well known for poaching their best players - all unprincipled men who were widely disparaged as traitors and mercenaries - from poor working class clubs on the other side of the Harbour, with the lure of a bright future.
They've never been forgiven, even though generations have passed since the Fibro's v Silvertails detestment began and specific incidents of bastardry are now lost in the mists of time, it's got through in the genes.
As if you were born to hate Manly.
Back in the day, the black and orange t-shirt with white lettering "I support Balmain, and anyone playing Manly" was a common sight at Leichhardt Oval.
In 1990, when Steve "Blocker" Roach was sent off for patting the referee on the head in my one, only, and last attendance at Brookvale Oval - with my life only saved by running for a Palm Beach bus - the loathing of Manly fans lodged in my backbone, unable to be removed.
To make matters even worse, the two times the Tigers have played north of the Hawkesbury River in four games this season, they've been flogged, twice.
And they've still got Gold Coast, Brisbane, and North Queensland to come.
Let alone down Mexico way v Melbourne and Auckland.
The only saving grace was to see the Great SC Simmons return from the Dark Satanic Mills of England to be back in the coaches box with Coach Harry.
The Idiot Savant has returned to his old job as the club Welfare Officer/Assistant Coach, where he belongs.
Who knows what they pay him, but the bloke is priceless.
Royce is absolutely inscrutable, and he makes it his business to know about everything that is going on, is a master troubleshooter, and is the reason why the Tigers players are never in the papers.
Keeps a keen eye on his players' social life - they know he has spies everywhere - and they also know he knows a thing or two about rugby league to boot.
Royce doesn't talk much, but when he speaks, people listen, and listen good.
On the bus home from Gosford, the players could only guess what he was thinking.

MANLY-WARRINGAH SEA EAGLES 26. Tries: Williams (2), Cherry-Evans, Matai, Symonds. Goals: Lyon (3)
WESTS TIGERS 0.
At Central Coast Stadium, Gosford.
Crowd: 11,758.

The Premiership Shrine in the corner of the loungeroom next to the Bush Telegraph was dismantled on the morning of the match, no trace now remains, as the Swans transition from reigning Premiers to defending Premiers.
A place of reassuring comfort, and a talking point among visitors, for a 25 week off-season...but now it's gorn to mark the start of the traditional toughening-up period.
Very little to be learnt, and certainly nothing to be gained from the pipe opener, except that a win is a win is a win.
Still, the opening game of the season is always a fairly good time to brush off the cobwebs and shake the dust off the legs.
Beating the Pygmies by five goals in a canter would have been just about the best most anyone hope for.
In the rooms after, the players would have been reaching for the cans of WD40 to spray on the rusty bits, in the hope that they'll come good and work again next week.
Super Coach John "Horse" Longmire would do well to pay attention to getting his team up to match fitness.
It'll probably take a month, with the team clearly short of a run.
Any longer and they could struggle against half-way decent sides.
The Pygs have no doubt improved on last year as the boys they have grow up, acquitted themselves rather well, and could trouble other poor-to-middling sides through the year, but they certainly won't kick five unanswered goals against anyone again this season.
Caught me, and the Swans, having a late afternoon nap after quarter-time.
You could go through the roster, but suffice to say it was very pleasing to see Captain Jack win the Brett Kirk Medal just for playing good.
Mummy and Mr Pyke did some sterling work early - you have to like big blokes throwing their weight around - with the Childe Hannabery, Keefey and Rick Shaw prominent across the middle.
The Ugliest Man In Football stamped his authority on the back line late, but didn't get enough game time for mine.
The Reid Kiddie did nothing all day except take the Mark of the Year [so far]; an absolute screamer.
Tipsy Tippett would be scratching his head.
The third leg is looking good on the Goodes Train.

GREATER WESTERN SYDNEY: 0.4, 5.4, 7.8, 11.10 (76). Goals: Patton 3, Sumner 2, Treloar, Shiel, Smith, Cameron, Giles, Greene.
SYDNEY: 4.5, 9.7,12.9, 16.10 (106). Goals: Jack 3, Goodes 2, McGlynn 2, Bolton 2, Pyke 2, Reid 2, Kennedy, McVeigh, Mumford.
At Olympic Stadium, Homebush.
Crowd: 23,690.

much honour bestowed

Trick Cyclists,

Frankly surprised by the crowd at Leichhardt Oval of a Friday night, even if the official figure through the turnstiles were obviously inflated.
The ground looked fairly full, but 18,000 is nominal capacity, 19,000 is hanging from the rafters territory, while 20,000 is just downright dangerously overcrowded.
You should have been there for the ground record 22,877 versus Souths in '05 - wild scenes, very scary.
In reality there were probably less than 15,000 in, but that's still an unexpected vote of confidence in an old ground that the club is intent on closing, if not at the end of this year, then certainly by the end of 2014.
The loyalists are not about to let it go without a fight, so they still turn up in numbers despite the enormous difficulty of getting there on a Friday after work.
Embarrassed to say the weakness in me prevented my attendance.
It's always been said that Leichhardt gives the home side a ten-point start, just from the impact of the noise in that man-made ampitheatre of the home crowd which must be deafening in the player's ears, and so it came to pass again in this one.
Never mind that the engine room was on fire.
Marshall and Farah on song, with the young Jacob Miller kiddie getting used to the pace of first grade at half-back and displaying a good turn of foot, kicking ability, and handy defence, along with an older football brain on his shoulders that belie his tender years.
With The Great Keefy "Bloodnut" Galloway out for at least three months with a busted pec, you would have thought the pack would be down on brute attacking strength, but no, they didn't miss a beat.
Woods seamlessly stepped into the breach, and Anasta and Blair actually had pretty good games for a complete change.
Could Coach Harry be the miracle worker of the season?
It was also handy to come up against a hapless Eels outfit who were intent on putting on a display characterised by a litany of mistakes and a comedy of errors.
The Great Benji's second-half try was as funny as a fit.
All night, Parramatta were complaining about getting the rough end of the pineapple when it came to the penalty count - caned they were - and letting the Bamford's know all about it in no uncertain terms.
Balmain were given a penalty for something or another, and the opposition promptly launched into more back chat.
By this time, the Bamfords had had enough and marched the penalty a further 10 metres forward for being given lip.
The ref ran forward, marked the spot, and Benji, who just happened to have the ball, followed the ref, took a quick tap and strolled 70 metres to the tryline as the Parramatta players were walking back to get on-side with their backs to the play.
The Bamford, as if to say to the Eels "that'll teach you for giving me the shits", made an elaborate gesture of pointing to the spot underneath the black dot and blowing the whistle, loudly, awarding the try.
Brilliant!
As they said on the telly commentary "talk about Parramatta getting their pants pulled down in public".
It's also pleasing to see that the long tradition of the "set play" that SC Sheens so emphasised during his encumbency has been adopted and adapted and carried on by Coach Harry.
You only have to look at the left and right edge set play, before turning it back into the centres to score - Ayshford's try being a classic case in point - they must practice it endlessly at training.
It's so simple you would have thought the opposition should be able to read such a regulation set play like a book, but they are generally fooled by the speed of the ball through the sets of hands, find themseleves overstretched looking which way and that, and then wrong footed by the inevitable switch-back.
Works almost every time.
No doubt the team would have been buoyed by the new four year contract The Best Leb In The Game signed mid-week.
Robbie Farah admitted that he could have gone elsewhere for quite a bit more cash dollars, but he's not greedy, and happy enough to be told that he could Captain the side for as long as he wants, and would go to his grave as that rarest of beasts nowadays - a one-club man.
Loyalty rewarded with intangible, but nonetheless, very important things, that money can't buy.
And knowing full well that that is what his dear-departed mother would have wanted him to do, so that he will have much honour bestowed on him as his career reaches its denoument in due course.

WESTS TIGERS 31. Tries: Lawrence (2) Ayshford, Marshall, Moltzen. Goals: Marshall (5). Field Goals: Miller (1).
PARRAMATTA EELS 18. Tries: Loko, Morgan, Toutai. Goals: Sandow (3).
At Leichhardt Oval.
Crowd: 18,326.


Sydney Swans flying under the radar, as usual, going into the split first round.
They reportedly barely rate a mention in the Melbourne fishwraps, and were worth just a half page in the Saturday edition of the Sydney [Eastern Suburbs] Morning Herald.
Not bad for team that are the reigning premiers and soon to become the defending premiers.
Never came to the attention of the authorities during their few days on the pool deck at the Coffs Harbour Hilton, did nothing in the pre-season comp, and then lost a trial match to the mighty Port Adelaide in the last quarter, as if it mattered diddly-squat.
They will miss the Alex Johnson kiddie, who showed great promise at the pointy end of last season, with a season ending knee mischief before the season even began.
The loss of any Premiership Player in the course of the year will be keenly felt, but they appear to have good depth in the roster with a few blokes champing at the bit, and Tipsy Tippett - who's apparently settled in well for the fully-cooked breakfast down at the local cafe - cooling his heels for the first half of the season.
Did note mid-week that The Goodes Train decided to give away the co-captaincy this season, to concentrate on injecting growth hormones into the third leg he grew during the off season.
He'll need it against the Yoof of Today who will try their hardest to put a yard or two on the old bloke yet again, unaware that sly guile, unparralled talent and vast experience will always win out in the end.
Very satisifying to see Keiran "Son of Gary" Jack take over Goodesy's co-captaincy, after being identified as a leader of men from very early on.
The rarest of rare football fairytales.
Fancy a rugby league player who grows up to represent Australia with distinction at full-back and has a stellar Hall of Famer career for the pre-eminent rugby league club in Sydney - Balmain - spawning a child who goes on to Captain the pre-eminent Australian Rules club in Sydney?
Surely unique.
Swans only problem from the off may be complacency, given the very soft draw they have in the first two games; the pipe opener against the Pygmies away [but effectively at home], and then the Suns at home.
Guaranteed to go top again, early on, at least.

Re: Your appointment by Letters Patent as the Honourable Royal Commissioner

Dear Sir,

It gives me great pleasure to appoint you by Letters Patent as the Honourable Royal Commissioner to Inquire into the Indian Massacre, which occured at Madras, Hyderabad, Mohali and Delhi, Feb 22-Mar 24, 2013.
Mr Michael J Clarke, QC, has been appointed as Senior Counsel Assisting the Royal Commission.
Please be advised of the following Terms of Reference:
1. Determine the circumstances surrounding, and the events of the Massacre.
2. Determine the cause, or causes, of the Massacre.
3. Determine the causes of the actions and conduct of, and the culpability of, the following persons; Mr RJ Inverarity, the group of persons collectively known as "The Faceless Men", Mr PW Howard, and Mr JM Arthur, before, during and after the Massacre.
4. Determine specificially the causes of the actions and conduct of, and the culpability of, Mr SR Watson during the Massacre.
5. Determine the involvement and culpability of any other players or persons in the Massacre.
6. Make recommendations to the Director of Public Prosecutions regarding the prospect of conviction of any of the above persons for treason, cowardice, disloyalty, failing to obey orders, incompetance, insolence, and indolence.
7. Prepare and deliver to me an Interim Report by no later than the commencement of play in the First Test against England, at Trent Bridge, on July 10, 2013.

You will of course be well aware that as Royal Commissioner, you have sweeping powers to compel witnesses to give evidence, subpoena documents, and conduct your own investigations, as you see fit.
On behalf of the people of Australia, I wish you well in the conduct of this arduous, but supremely important task.

Yours sincerely,

Quentin Bryce AC CVO,
Governor-General of the Commonwealth of Australia.

a deplorable state of affairs

Fellow Flabbergastee's,

There's been a small forest felled to provide the newsprint for the goings on in the Australian cricket team of late, so there's no need for me to add to it.
It seemed fairly clear cut.
Skipper makes a few simple team rules, some choose to flaunt the rules; ok, fair enough, rules are made to be broken, but after the Horror of Hyderabad, in any sort of workplace, you'd expect to be asked to explain yourself viz a viz why you farked up so badly.
And in the modern workplace, almost everyone is subject to performance review from time to time, especially if your performance is patently manifestly not up to scratch.
Three of the four copped it on the chin for the final infraction of the rules - mea culpa - to try to avoid being told that they are now no longer popular with the selectors.
The other one, SR Watson, accepts no such fate.
What abysmal behaviour by FIGJAM - surely any lingering respect that there might have been at-large for the little turd has now been competely wiped away by such an appalling performance.
Fancy hopping on the next flight out after being told you won't be considered for the third test, without even telling your Captain that you are quitting the tour [never mind the impending birth of the first child - a very handy coincidental sideshow]?
Such a dismal course of events would have normally prompted a sharp rebuke by the cricket heirachy at the very least, but strangely, not in this case.
The prick could clearly see that he had got off Scott free, and so the minute he landed at KSA, he started bagging team management and anyone else he could think of, from here to breakfast.
Under normal circumstances, that would be viewed by the authorities as disloyalty of the highest order; but no.
And yet, even after all that, much to the general public's disgust, FIGJAM gets back on the plane to Delhi - by all reports at the behest of Pup - who for some unknown reason appears to want to smoke the peace pipe with the puffed-up jester, even when he is under absolutely no obligation to do so.
Inexplicable.
What on earth happened to "the line in the sand", drawn just a week ago?
To make matters infinitely worse, MJ Clarke contines to struggle badly with his chronic dose of Shaggers Back, and at 0-3 down and the series long lost, you would have thought he'd be reluctant to risk himself further by playing in the deadest of dead rubbers, given that a five test tour of Engerland looms large.
So, if he doesn't play, does FIGJAM become the 44th Strayan Test Captain, straight after putting on an entirely uncalled for, unacceptable, unforgiveable, simply unbelievable hissy fit?
Lord help us.
Perish the thought.
Even the possibilty affronts everything about it.
Surely, if MJ Clarke is ruled out, even if MS Wade is fit after his basketball accident, BJ Haddin should be named as a batting captain, a la JM Brearley?
Nothing said more clearly that the selectors are clutching at straws when the Chairman Himself said in public mid-week that he'd wholeheartedly welcome back Mr Cricket, if he decided to come out of retirement.
This, of a bloke, who very cleary said on retirement that he never ever wants to go to India again.
What the?
The only lure for MEK Hussey to return for a one-off arms-length appearance would be the promise of being named Straya's 44th Test Captain, aka JM Brearley.
Stranger things have happened.
Every man for himself, anything goes, appears to be the deplorable state of affairs at the minute.
But, you'd have to worry about the physical and mental health of the 43rd Strayan Captain - he'd have a fair bit on his mind, you'd imagine, as he lays on the work bench with a four and a half foot Indian woman walking up and down on his back.
The look on his face would likely be troubling.
Joisus.

give him some slack

Forever Hopefuls,

It'll do.
Rusty, at best.
A win is a win.
Better than last week's complete capitulation.
Mighty Tiges shook off the cobwebs and the awful bereavement, showed the template of what they could be this season, pointed out to Coach Harry that he still has a helluva lot of work to do with them, and, as they say in the classics, "got away with the two points".
Fairly indicative of the play was that the clear best on ground came off the bench - Aaron Woods, an unsung try-scoring forward with a few hard yards in him, dogged defence, and a streak of mean.
You need blokes like him in the pack, and Keefy "Bludnut" Galloway looks to be on song from the off.
There's plenty who'd say whoever it was who decided to buy Braith Anasta was off their rocker, but it's way too early to pass judgement.
Shocker first week, not too bad in the second.
And in any case, here's a bloke in the twilight of his career who will be wheeled into the Sunset Home at the end of the season; and he did say that the only reason he moved to the Tigers on a one-year contract was on the condition that he didn't play in the second row [where is he playing? In the second row], so he must have come cheap.
Certainly not a patch on That Pom Ellis, who will be sorely missed in retirement.
Adam Blair was possibly the worst marquee player buy of last season, comp-wide, but you have to give him some slack in a new year, parked as he is at lock, and hope against hope that he actually does something this season.
The Miller kidder at half-back has some big potential for mine, but looks a little brittle in defence at present, however he's got a fairly good football brain on his shoulders for a yoof, and appears capable of developing a clever partnership with The Great Benji.
The centres and full-back are solid, very experienced first grade players, and there is Chris "The Try Scoring Freak" Lawrence among them.
The young bloke plucked from some Fijian village by the name of Marika Koroibete looks to be the genuine goods on the wing at age 20.
Probably the fastest man in the caper over 30 yards, and makes line breaks aplenty with explosive speed from a standing start.
Likely to be the new Lote Tuquri [who remains on the books at age 33, but with a glittering career that appears to be finished, having been finally cruelled by chronic injury].
And the bench is deep; you'll need that as fellows fall by the wayside with various mischiefs in the course of 26 weeks.
So, on paper, it looks a reasonably classy football team with the right mix of Yoof and Experience, but as always, the proof will be in the pudding.
In the end, all they have to do is win at home and bag a few away.
Yeah, yeah, easier said than done, you say.
No need to mention the referee's just as yet - plenty of time for that - the Bamford's will look after it themselves.
The very poor home crowd represents a loss of faith after last season that will take some restoring.
And, people will boycott Leichhardt Oval next Friday night in protest at no Sunday afternoon games being programmed there this year - me among them - but that's another story...

WESTS TIGERS 28. Tries: Woods (2), Marshall, Miller, Koroibete. Goals: Marshall (4).
PENRITH PANTHERS 18. Tries: Manu (2), Simmons. Goals: Walsh (3).
At Campbelltown Sports Ground.
Crowd: 9,715.

in the back woods of rugby league

Eternal optimists,

The winter wire is back.
For better or for worse.
The last weekend in September seems like only yesterday, maybe because we are barely a couple of weeks into autumn.
Balmain never had a snowflakes after the week they've had, but no one expected to see the Mighty Tiges at the bottom of the ladder after Round 1.
They've got some work to do.
That's bleedin' obvious.
Did like the contrast of the greenest rookie coach in the caper calling the shots in his very first game .v. the most ancient super coach in the rugby league universe, who's been at the wheel in a zillion matches and won a premiership or seven, just quietly.
Out-smarted, out-played, rolled over and tickled on the tummy.
Back to the drawing board Mr Michael "Mick" Potter [who will be known from here on in as Coach Harry].
Nice enough bloke, who talks sense in quiet measured tones, doesn't take fools lightly, and runs a tight ship, but clearly has a lot of home work to complete by next weekend.
The players, and who can blame them, were all at sea, following the mid-week funeral of the young kiddie Mosese Fotuaika, who was expected to break into the Tigers first grade side this year with a splash after signing a lucrative new contract, but topped himself instead at the age of 20.
The shocking tragedy has sparked some interesting, frank & honest talk in the back woods of rugby league.
It appears the number of young indigenous players coming into the game has dropped off dramatically in recent years as they are overcome by the pressure to perform and pay their dues while being over-run by the sheer bulk and lightning speed of the Islander lads over short distances.
It's patently obvious that the Aboriginal dudes and the Torres Strait guys are better off in Australian Rules, where there are no Islanders at all to compete with, but if they play any kind of professional football they still have to deal with, for them, unbearable demands
The Islander kiddies also come under the same enormous pressure, due mainly to the tribal clan system that requires that they share their fabulous new found wealth with the extended, extended family to the point where they barely have enough money to pay the rent, buy a ham sandwich, and have a couple of beers on Monday night even though they are earning hundreds of thousands of dollars a season.
Who gets what is subject to eternal quarrelling, and those who get nothing for one reason or another, inevitably hate your guts, and you have no control over it.
The clubs are pulling their hair out over it as there is nothing they can seemingly do about it, as most of the boys they get are plucked from South Pacific villages with little education who know nothing else and are patently unsuited to big city life.
To make matters worse, they play with other blokes who see the opportunity of a lifetime right there in front of them, and the sensible ones who are free to invest their excess cash to set themselves up for life while still living a lavish lifestyle in the here and the now.
Some just get to the point where they can't take it anymore.
There was a very sad story of some other kid that was mentioned this week.
He was about the same age as Mosese - can't remember his name or who he played for - who a couple of years back went to his first senior training session seemingly with a glittering career ahead of him and picked up his first grade gear including his jumper with his name and number on the back, went home to his sister's place where was living, put his kit bag on the lounge room floor, kissed her good night and went to bed.
He didn't appear in the morning and everyone in the house thought he was just having a sleep in after a big day, until he didn't show up for lunch, and someone thought to go and have a look in his room, only to find he'd hung himself.
It's clear we are failing the barely literate, vulnerable, highly-strung Yoof of Today here, and there appears to be no way out as long as the long-held traditional system of obligation and recrimination persists.
Or the kids just stop playing, as the indigenous lads - who are just fed up with all the same stresses - appear to have done.
Just ask Ben Barba, he'll tell you.
It is a hidden problem that is rarely spoken of, taboo really; but surely, the people who are paying the wages at some point have a right to draw a line in the sand and say how much is too much of a price to pay?
Just don't know.
In any case, a not so brilliant start to the season.

NEWCASTLE KNIGHTS 42. Tries: Uate (3), Gagai (2), McManus (2). Goals: Gidley (7).
WESTS TIGERS 10. Tries: Blair, Moltzen. Goals: Marshall (1).
Crowd: 21,925.
At International Sports Centre, Newcastle.