leaving on a jet plane

Aviators,

Found myself at 35,000 feet leaving on a jet plane from Adelaide on Saturday afternoon.
As the Boeing 737-800 touched down on the tarmac at KSA, a kiddie a few rows back from me - you'd put the lad at 8-9 years old - loudly exclaimed "WE MADE IT! WE'RE ALIVE!"
There were a few chuckles and a ripple of applause around about, as if to say, "yup, we are the lucky ones, son".
In the row across the aisle from me, there was another boy, also aged 8-9, who quietly wept for a minute or so as we were preparing to land, dabbed his eyes with his hanky, and then smartened up for landing.
Don't think anybody else noticed, but his father, a heavily tattooted cabinet maker from the Eyre Peninuslar, saw me notice and leaned across the aisle and whispered to me "It's alright. He's a bit upset. He had really really hoped that he would see the Sydney Harbour Bridge, as he's never seen it before, but obviously he's buckled up, and we are on the wrong side of the plane, and we're not stopping here, we're going straight through to Coolangatta on holiday. He's over it now, just another life experience for the boy."
Shrugged my shoulders and said nothing, but at that moment, couldn't imagine the concept of disappointment more poignantly.
Walked in through the front door at Camp Campsie and switched on the trusty transistor radio set on the back deck [it took a while for the thing to work properly as the electricity through battery terminals slowly dried them out after a couple of days of heavy rain in the Emerald City, apparently], only to find that the Tigers, playing the NZ Worriers, in Wellington of all places [their usual home ground is in Auckland] had already been robbed blind by the Bamfords, with two tries disallowed after just ten minutes of play.
Joisus.
Soon after, Balmain hit back with two legal tries to go 12-0 up, then the Worriers hit back with two tries of their own in quick smart time, before "scoring, without doubt, the most bizzare try of the year", which went for a full hundred yards from end to end, bounced off all and sundry, involved two kicks in play and at least eight sets of hands as far as anyone could tell...running Rugby League at its finest, by all accounts.
If that wasn't mad enough, the game turned into one of those wild and crazy games of football in the second half; after the Tedesco kidde went off with a head knock, the Tigers clearly completely lost the plot and the Worriers ran in no less than five tries without reply in the last 18 minutes of the match to notch up a right walloping.
Talk about the flood gates opening out-of-control style, and New Zealander's know all about floodgates, they'll tell you, you don't need to ask.
Coach Harry Potter must be tearing out what's left of the hair on his head wondering how to arrest the inconsistency syndrome that has plauged Balmain in recent seasons; win big one week, lose big the next - the inability to string together a purple patch - and you need at least a couple of those a season to threaten the top four.
The Club Secretary would be fair shitting himself about the gate reciepts [or lack thereof] for this coming weekend's match against the Silvertails at the spiritual home, Leichhardt Oval.
He'd be thinking that the vista out over the Parammatta River from the Swimming Pool End would be fairly bleak right now.
He'd be hating the fact that the fishwraps are full of news that he doesn't have a penny to rub together, and Balmain are way worse than stoney broke.
How he pays the players is anyone's guess.
No doubt the uphill battle this year will be worse than the climb up Heartbreak Hill to the Mary St Entrance.
Still, always thought there could be money in some sort of match-day chair-lift/flying fox arrangement up to there, or perhaps a fleet of sedan chairs manned by illegal immigrants.
Maybe just pop a note in the suggestion box suggesting that with a well priced exorbitant fare, it would be a most valuable public service, and could turn a much needed buck for the club.
There's some thinking to do this year both in and outside the box that is the Football Dept, but by lordy, the prospect of a knight in shining armour is looking slim.

NEW ZEALAND WARRIORS 42. Tries: Fisiiahi (4), Johnson, Vatuvei, Bukuya, Tomkins. Goals: Johnson (5).
WESTS TIGERS 18. Tries: Anasta, Tedesco, Farah. Goals: Richards (3).
At Wellington Regional Stadium.
Crowd: 22,512.

By the appearance of the television pictures, there seemed to be plenty of empty seats at Cathy Freeman Stadium after the first round disgrace against the Pygmies.
Sydneysiders must be the most fickle sports fans in the world when their team is losing.
Suppose they'd think that given that, at the minute, it's no Goodes Train, no cigar, with Coach Horse clutching at straws.
Spent most of the second quarter asleep on the lounge, and finding myself bereft of any cocaine or methampethamines, opted for other stimulants on hand to get through the Championship Quarter, but by the end of that every player on the ground was utterly rooted - total lack of genuine match fitness on the part of both sides - me also - so was forced to put a couple of matchsticks under my eyelids to keep them open for the final stanza.
Just as Collingwood kicked the last two goals of the game and The Fat Lady sang, the matcheads spontaneously combusted and set my not insubstantial eyebrows on fire.
As the final hooter sounded, a message chattered in on the bush telegraph in the corner of the loungeroom.
Got up and ripped the ticker tape off the machine and deciphered the Morse code.
It was my spy at the ground.
"Crowd figure about right Stop Emerald City citizens have already lost interest Stop Pies fans too poor to travel after losing their jobs building cars Stop Forward line a shambles Stop Buddy playing on one leg Stop Even the Swans fan who won $1000 in the Citibank raffle was shattered Stop Sad Stop".
Enough said.
Then again, the Stats Guru insists that the last time the Swans found themselves down 0-2 at that start of the season was back in the Miracle Year 2005, and we all know what happened then.
Still, yet again, as my brother said at the wake, "You can't win the Premiership in the first couple of weeks, but you can lose it".
Take your pick.

SYDNEY: 3.1, 7.1, 9.7,10.9 (69). Goals: Franklin 2, Rampe, Malceski, Pyke, McGlynn, Hannebery, Reid, Cunningham, Jetta.
COLLINGWOOD: 1.2, 5.5, 9.10, 12.17 (89). Goals: Elliott 3, Goldsack 2, Cloke 2, Pendlebury, Sinclair, Swan, Beams, Young.
At Oympic Stadium, Homebush.
Crowd: 32,347.

for the sake of completeness

A death in the family will preclude comment on the blog thing this week, but the scorebox is included for your consideration and for the sake of completeness.

WESTS TIGERS 25. Tries: Simona (2), Thompson, Richards, Tedesco. Goals: Richards (2), Anasta (1). Field Goals: Anasta (1).
SOUTH SYDNEY RABBITOHS 16. Tries: Reddy (2), Lowe. Goals: Reynolds (2).
At Olympic Stadium, Homebush.
Crowd: 20,066.

SYDNEY: [First round split-round, second week bye].

a fabulous start to the season

My fellow appallee's,

Well, fark my brown dog, Harold.
The Pygmies beat the Swans by six goals in the season pipe-opener.
Crikey!
Only the vey best football spies would have seen that coming.
Funny thing is, apart from Fremantle, Sydney - on paper at least - seem to be the pea for the 2014 premiership.
Seems some other people have some other ideas.
And if you cared to read the fine print, you'd find the Giants have no less than 21 first round draft picks on their books, and they have purchased very judiciously in the off season trade week.
Get some old, sensible heads into the club, with miles in their legs, to bolster the babies.
Someone once said something about the value of the mix of "yoof and experience".
Mummy could certainly sense the way the breeze was shifting.
So that's all going to come good in the fullness of time, you'd expect, otherwise why would the AFL be sinking tens of millions dollars into what at the outset looked like a hopeless, forlorn excersise?
And who did the Swans buy?
Lance Franklin - on a King's Ransom for a hundred years.
Buddy didn't expect for a minute that he'd be pushed and shoved around by a mob of young uptarts; he was expecting that'd he's be shown the respect he deserves for the superstar he reckons he is.
That's where he was sadly mistaken.
Sure there was some footage at some stage of a Pygmie slapping Buddy clean across his ugly-bearded dial in some minor head-to-head, toe-to-toe after the ball had crossed the boundary line, in the Giants back pocket.
Franky seemed plainly shocked that he could be treated like that by some kid he'd never even heard of.
Seems he didn't know exactly where to play either, and on the face of it, didn't get much direction in that department from Coach Horse, who will have a lot of thinking to do over the next fortnight or so until they play again, against Collingwood, of all mobs, at Cathy Freeman Stadium.
Soundly whipped with the tail between the legs is always a good lesson for anyone, anytime, and no better occasion than in the first game of the year.
Did note that Tippett didn't play.
Was he in a huff, or maybe in a funk?
The Goodes Train was deemed unfit; didn't go all that well on the pre-season training runs by most accounts, and might be considering retiring mid-season, if he ever comes back, even though the Marketing Dept would be drooling at the mouth at the prospect of having The Australian of The Year play in every game.
And then, Rhino Keefe found himself dropped - was told straight out "you are not quick enough anymore" [at age 33], and only got to put on the bench vest when Captain Jack was unexpectedly ruled out at the last minute.
That tells you something's going on, and from my casual reading of it, it's not good.
Thinking that The Train and Rhino won't last the year before they get the tap on the shoulder and announce the finish of their magnificent careers as one-club men, who will then be admitted forthwith to the Swans' Pantheon.
Seems the changing of the guard and the byzantine world of football politics could derail the season before anyone realises, or expects it.
Who knows?
Swans just didn't turn up to play, simple as that.
On that showing, The Football Dept still has a helluva lot of work to do.
A good place to start would be correcting kicking just two goals after half time against a team of still largely green-horn yoofs.
The lengthy quarter time thunderstorm break is no excuse.
Joisus.
Even though it's probably his fault, Longmire, by all accounts, is most unhappy, and the players will no doubt be thrashed senseless, without mercy, on the training track this week, for their trouble.
On the evidence of on what clearly should have been a leisurely Saturday afternoon stroll in the park, losing away is OK over the course of a year, but they bloody well should win consistently at home over the coming weeks and months if they are to be any chance to challenge for the flag again.
A fabulous start to the season.
Say no more.

GREATER WESTERN SYDNEY: 4.1, 7.1, 9.5, 15.9 (99). Goals: Cameron 4, Patton 3, Smith, Greene, Scully, Ward, Coniglio, Frost, Kennedy, Whitfield
SYDNEY: 6.2, 7.8, 9.8, 9.13 (67). Goals: McGlynn 2, Reid, Franklin, Cunningham, Rohan, Bird, Jetta, Mitchell.
At Sydney Showground, Homebush.
Crowd: 17,102.

That's a bit better.
Funny how the Winter Game becomes anything but when it's moved to sub-tropical climes.
The temperature was nudging the low-to-mid 30's throughout, which under the rules called for a drinks break after 20 minutes in each half and an extended half time.
Still, did the Tigers no harm.
A complete turnaround from the opening week, murdering the opposition by 30 points.
And that on the back of several players being ruled out mid week due to various ailments, and some pulling out just before the game due to a "virus".
Boils, viruses, ailments - thought these blokes were the fittest men going around? - or perhaps it's just that they've been forced to come off the allegedly illegal "supplements", and find themselves sickly as a result?
Not even the snake oil merchants would know for sure.
Forward pack got their act together with the Best Leb in the Game leading the way.
Didn't really notice it last week, but it looks like Farah's been on the goat burgers and large chips and gravy during the summer; has a bit of a paunch and looks a bit pudgy, but he'll no doubt come down to his fighting weight with a few games under his belt.
No matter, played well, and captained the troops admirably.
And wasn't afraid to talkback to the Bamfords "you lot have looked at that fifteen times on the TV replay and called it a no try, when I was right there and for mine it looked like a try for all the world with the naked eye in real time. So? Who's right then, you or me?"
All the referree could come back with was "Sorry, Robbie, but that's all we had to go on and that's the way we called it. There's nothing we can do about it now."
The Best Leb in the Game just threw his hands in the air, shrugged his shoulders, and walked away - confident in the fact that he'd just been robbed blind.
The Tedesco Kiddie had a fine game at full back, the lad is the genuine goods for sure.
Pat Richards may well have been the Man of the Match.
And to think, at age 32, Richards [who can ever forget his galactico game in the 2005 Grand Final for the Tigers, offloading the miracle pass for the match winning try that lifted the Premiership!] has been brought back into the Balmain fold after 224 games for Wigan in the Dark Satanic Mills Competition over the past eight years!
What on earth has he been up to?
Obviously, he's been on a very good wicket in the Ol' Dart.
So why come back after all this time?
Surely he wasn't homesick?
And, yet, he's still good enough in the top flight to be described in some circles as a "mercurial winger", even in his twighlight years in the caper.
It'll be a topsy-turvy season, without doubt.
The coaches from both the Tigers and the Swans could do well to emulate SC Sheens famous Coach's Ledger...neatly ruled into two columns, one marked "well take our wins", which had nothing but a few hieroglyphs in it, and the other "we'll learn from our losses", which was full of indecipherable scribblings.

GOLD COAST TITANS 12. Tries: Sezer, Kelly. Goals: Sezer (2).
WESTS TIGERS 42. Tries: Richards (2), Tedesco, Thompson, Nofoaluma, Taupau, Brooks. Goals: Richards (7).
At Gold Coast Football Stadium.
Crowd: 12,038.

an "attack of infected boils".

Diehards,

Into it's 8th year now in a formal format; the Winter Game wire returns to haunt you once again over the colder months.
The Mighty Wests Tigers' start to the new National Rugby League season did not begin all that auspiciously when news filtered through that the Best Leb in the Game, aka Robbie Farah, aka the Balmain Captain, Scholar & Gentleman to boot, had been hospitalised, not just confined to his bed, but hospitalised, mid week with an "attack of infected boils".
You'd think that if you picked up something like that during the week before the first match of the season, that you'd bench yourself, but no.
The mental image of great festering pustules flying hither and thither and splattering eveywhere as the big blokes crashed into each other was way beyond even thinking about.
The Good Lady Wife suggested he play under the name Captain Carbuncle for one week only, which he did, and he didn't have a bad game, but was let down by his fellow forwards, who displayed little go forward and were as soft as rice puddings in all reality.
After a promising start, running in a couple of well worked tries, the Tiges got themselves lost in what turned out to be a ridiculously high scoring game; started to dig themselves into a deeper and deeper hole letting the Dragons in to score soft tries willy-nilly, on the back of being caned mericlessly by the Bamford's 8-2 in the penalty count in the first half.
Who knows what the referee's were thinking?
The Balmain players were well within their rights to say to the authorities "what did I do wrong, Guv?"
Outrageous.
You'll struggle to see another game this year in which more than 68 points are scored.
Defence is not anyone's long suit in the first week of the season, but still.
The team is obviously 4-6 weeks away from true match fitness, which is probably more important in this caper than any other, but seasons can be won and lost in that space of time.
Balmain seems to have bought reasonably well in the off-season player meat market; but why they persist with the likes of Adam Blair [28yo] and Braith Anasta [aged 32 for gawd's sake] is beyond me.
Two players who've found a nice retirement home in Leichhardt, after stellar careers elsewhere, and the club is still hoping they might do something resembling what they did back in the glory days?
They're dreaming aren't they?
There's plenty of raw talent there, no question.
The new young half back Luke Brooks [aged 19] has been rated as the best thing since bottled scotch in some circles in the junior grades - he's very good, but first grade is a completely different bottle of mussels altogether, son - he needs to acquire a lot more footy smarts against others who have been going around in the top grade for years.
Also, take for example, "A Boy Named Sue".
His name is Sauaso Sue [aged 21], he's an enormous Māori unit, the size of a small bus, so will cause problems for any opposing pack, but he has a lot to learn, oh, yes siree, a lot to learn.
The Tedesco Kiddie [aged 21] at full back shows a lot of promise, and any side could do with having two "try-scoring freaks" in their team in the form of Chris Lawrence and Marika Koroibete.
Even though the starting 13 is sound enough, and there is genuine, although as yet unproved, quality sitting on the bench and the back bench - on paper - Coach Harry Potter has some work to do in bringing it all together to make a proper team out of them.
He's only got about half a season to do it in, at best, otherwise he'll find himself in peril of losing his job, the way it is these days.
There is no shortage of potential there, but even at this entirely early stage of the season, there are some long time club loyalists who are already starting to mumble in low tones that the road could be long, and the way could be hard, over the next 26 weeks.
Bugger that.
Get beat by 20 points and wind up second last on the ladder after Round One?
The only way for Wests to go from there is north.
No shortage of crytsal ball gazing to be had.


ST GEORGE ILLAWARRA DRAGONS 44. Tries: Frizell (2), Beale, Creagh, Quinlan, Rein, Witt. Goals: Widdop (8).
WESTS TIGERS 24. Tries: Farah, Richards, Taupau, Tedesco. Goals: Richards (4).
At Olympic Stadium, Homebush.
Crowd: 19,860.

FYI: The new look team, as per program:
1. James Tedesco 2. Marika Koroibete 3. Keith Lulia 4. Chris Lawrence 5. Pat Richards 6. Braith Anasta 7. Luke Brooks 8. Aaron Woods 9. Robbie Farah 10. Martin Taupau 11. Liam Fulton 12. Bodene Thompson 13. Adam Blair. Reserves:
14. Cory Paterson 15. Ava Seumanufagai 16. Sauaso Sue 17. James Gavet.

seeing pink

Traditionalists,

Found myself on Monday afternoon among a few hundred people at Adelaide Oval, who were privileged to witness history in the making.
Happened to see the very first pink ball ever bowled in a first class cricket match, anywhere in the world, as far as it is known, with my own eyes.
And it was most pleasant to be in the Members Bar at the time to see it, courtesy of that notorious Cuntry Member, Tim the Wonderdog, and a prominent cricket tragic known as Dingo.
Salubrious surroundings often make for a marvellous occasion in suitable circumstances, in my experience.
The pink ball seemed to retain its sheen throughout the opening session, but people around the place were saying "the proof will be in the pudding in what it looks like at night".
By all reports, as dusk fell, the batsmen said, against a black sightscreen, that they "couldn't see it".
As hard as the powers-that-be might try, doubting that they will find it very easy to move first class cricket out of the summer sunshine, especially on a picture postcard day in Adelaide without a cloud in the sky.
It is the summer game after all.
You can't help but be impressed by the re-development of the grand old ground
It's as if the architects sat up there in virtual heaven and had a look down on the ground from above from a spectators point of view, and then built the stands around what would be front and centre in the viewer's mind.
Brilliant.
Adelaide Oval has always been one of the finest viewing grounds in the world, and will be even more so now.
Some bright thinking went into it.
They have retained the rear facade of the old red-brick, ivy-covered arches that were, and still are, at the back of the old stands [cleverly butressed by massive internal vertical steel beams] and then built the new stands on top of it without it having to take any structural weight...so from the Memorial Drive tennis courts it looks much the same as it ever was.
But you can well see how the old cricket purists would be wailing and gnashing their teeth, because there is no getting away from the truth of the matter; Adelaide Oval is no longer a cricket ground, however much they try to trick it up to look like one.
It is now a purpose built 50,000 seat football stadium, no question.
And the noise in the place will be terrific when a full-house goes ape-shit at the football!
Did note the irony of a bar [out the back of the Bradman Pavilion with no view of the ground] being named the David Hookes Bar, given that he died in one.
A nice touch.
Footballer's names are scattered along the bays of the Eastern Stand, but they are all doggedly politically correct, being equally divided among the all time greats of the Adelaide and Port Adelaide football clubs.
It's a pity they couldn't see fit to retain the Col Egar Bar, [which used to have one of the finest views of the ground from the southern end]; named after one of the greatest piss-tank umpires there ever was, who didn't mind a drink in a crisis.
The whole thing is very well thought out, but sadly - and there was not much they could do about it with the brief they had - almost all of the charm has vanished from the joint, except for the scoreboard and the token hill, which is now more like a grassy knoll, in front of it.
Couldn't help but be reminded of that complete madman CB Fry writing about sitting in a wicker chair at the back of the Moysten Evans Stand with a gin and tonic in hand in the 1920's, waxing lyrical about the finest view of any cricket ground in the world, with the field of play right there in front of you, the magnificent Cathedral to the left, "the fine rolling hills in the middle distance" and "the outline of a most beautiful city" to the right.
Those days have gone away, never to be seen again.

And while all this was going on, there was Pup's heroics in the first innings in Capetown.
Found myself wondering if the nation has, at last, woken up to the fact that MJ Clarke is a dead set genius?
His 161 no was undoubtedly the match winner.
Never mind Dave Warner From the Suburbs' twin tons.
They were just fruit for the sideboard.
Arguably the finest innings Michael has ever played, and it was only his 27th in the test caper, mind you.
Thing about it was that it was the most unusual, off-beat innings he's ever done.
None of the imperious cover-driving, straight-hitting, and superlative leg-side play we've all come to know and love, no siree, he just absolutely refused to take on the bowling, from the start.
Happy to duck and weave, and be hit, and hit hard.
If he'd done some hooks and pulls early, Morkel would have given up on him.
Instead, Morkel decided he would try to hurt the Strayan skipper.
A massive miscalculation
Pup cleverly deluded the idiot kaffir-kicker into thinking that he had him running scared - when he was just more than prepared to take brutal punishment for his country without flinching.
In the excitement of it all, Morkel forgot about bowling a few juicy ones outside off, just asking for it to be hit, hoping for a thick edge to the slips.
Clarke wasn't buying any of that, he knew exactly what he was doing; just nurdle it around for ones, two and threes, while ending up black & blue for his trouble.
92 not out at stumps on Day One.
Who won?
And then he was content to sit on 99 for what seemed to be a full 40 minutes on the morning of the second day, before he saw something that was absolute rubbish and smacked it to the boundary to bring up the ton.
Magnificent.
The Captain's bravest innings ever, and cleverest, for mine.
It should go down in the little history books as one of the greatest ever, never mind that it in all probabilty gave Straya their first win away in a very long time, and secured the Hansie Cronje Memorial Cup for the trophy cabinet, and that's been a while coming.
Pup can also be very proud of mentally destroying not one, but two, opposing captains in the space of a few months.
He seriously messed with Cook's head in the Ashes, and had him committed to Bedlam, [oh, and sent two other Poms stark raving mad just for the fun of it as well!], while Smith just gave up in the face of a cricket brain as big as a watermelon coming at him that was well prepared to wage all-out "pysch war".
Four very good notches on MJC's belt.
Did like Michael being humble enough to admit that his silly fifth day spat with Dale Steyn in the denoument was "out of order", but who can blame him for displaying his humanity after five days at the crease and in the field after all that?
Said it before, say it again, but when will the ignorant general public finally fookin' acknowledge that MJ Clark is, right here and now, in terms of grit, determination, unsurpassed skill, and superlative cricket smarts, the best Strayan Captain since IM Chappell?
Beats me.

high time

Bleacherites,

Joisus.
It's mid February, so thought it was high time to drop by the Sydney Cricket Ground mid-week for the first time this summer for a spot of first class cricket.
Met up with My Spy at The Ground for Day Two of the time-honoured Sheffield Shield grudge match NSW v VIC.
After sending the Hapless Bushwackers in and skittling them for bugger all on Day One, then getting on with the business with the bat, the Mighty Bluebags were content to take their time on the second morning with a leisurely frolic in the park to easily clinch the first innings points with only four down, then cut loose after lunch.
Watched Kurtis Patterson - a compact, stylish left hander with most of the shots who's not yet 21 - make a very tidy half century [he went on to make 93] after he collared the bowling early and never looked like being in any trouble, let alone giving a chance.
He took a particular liking to the Muirhead Kiddie who has been touted as "the next Great White Hope in the leg-spinning department, with Warnie in his corner" etc.
Here to tell you the lad has a lot to learn.
After being carted for 23 runs from his first three overs, the Victorian skipper decided he'd seen enough, and took him off.
At lunch on the picnic tables behind the nets, we noticed that Muirhead had been told by his Captain to forget about his lunch and ordered him to go down and have a remedial net.
Not that it did him much good in the afternoon.
The NSW captain/wicketkeeper Peter Nevill was finding good touch as we left the ground just as the new ball was taken.
[He eventually got to 100 n.o. in the shadow of stumps before declaring the innings closed at nine down and a country mile in front. Then they had the Vics 3/0 in six overs before the close, then reduced them to 6/9 on the third morning, and went on to win the match by an innings and 48 runs with more than a day to spare. Thanks for coming, Victoria].
Both sides were fairly handy, with no less than seven players of the 22 in the dressing sheds being in proud possession of a Baggy Green - with Hastings and McKay being paid up members of the Venerable Society of One Test Wonders.
We were eventually driven out of the ground by the constant din of construction noise.
The Spy was going to complain to The Trust along the lines of "Oi! You lot! We thought the whole point of coming to the first class cricket was to have a relaxed peaceful day where the only sounds you would be likely to hear are the thwack of willow on leather [and doesn't the sound of a brand new ball sound mighty fine being cover driven out of the meat of the bat], the ripple of polite applause, a raucous appeal from time to time, and the odd well placed heckle; not bang-bang-, -crash-crash-, -drill-drill, boom-boom. What the?"
But we knew any complaint would be studiously ignored, so didn't bother.
We took our cue from and the advice of the the raging queen running the Non-Members Bar - who was clearly doing so under sufferance - who told us in no uncertain terms "I've only opened this bar as a goodwill gesture for the convenience of the general public, and what do I get? I'm treated like offal, and The Trust couldn't give a shit about you".
With the Ladies Stand the only area open to the general public, it afforded a good view of the new northern stand.
While the superstructure of the roof is almost complete, they haven't even really started putting the lid on it.
What looks to be the new expansive Members Bar was in a complete shambles, while out the back of the stand there are still wide open gaping holes where you'd imagine the lifts, escalators, service areas, kitchens etc will be.
There is no way in the world that it will be fully finished by the start of the Strayan Rules Football season in a month's time.
And they must have seriously jury rigged the joint at enormous expense to put a crowd in there during the test match, and then they would have had to knock it all down again to get on with the build proper!
A classic example of a stadium construction project that failed miserably to deliver on time and on budget.
The cost over-runs must be tremendous at the rate they are going, running into the many millions you would have thought.
While the new stand looks to be purpose built for football, and will offer fine views of the Swans at play, it doesn't come close to matching any of the existing modern stands, and looks like a monolithic shag perched on a massive rock.
The Brewongle Stand is now 33 years old, and in serious need of replacing, given that it was a shitful unworkable design in the first place; full of rabbit warrens, impossible to get around, all higgeldy-piggeldy, with the seat raking all wrong for any kind of sport you would want to look at.
Everyone agrees - it was a major league fail from the off.
But you'd imagine that won't be happening anytime soon given the incredible amount of capital the Trust is squandering on the new stand.
Ever since they dismantled the 1895 Bob Stand in 1983 and rebuilt it brick by brick, bit by bit at North Sydney Oval, they've never been able to get the stands right at the SCG.
The Spy was out the back of the Ladies Stand getting some drinks, when a large cement truck was trying to back itself in through a narrow roadway to the building site.
The Bluecoat on duty told him he'd have to wait for the truck to pass him by, but the CFMEU bloke stading next to him thought otherwise and said to The Bluecoat "Nah, I can't stand-by and watch those two beers getting warm, can I? I'll stop the truck, he goes first".
And whatever the Union Man says, goes.
Bless.

fark my brown dog, Harold

"THE GRAND TURKEY" 2005-2014


Very little wonder now that MJ Clarke sacked himself as a selector.
No place to play, there.
Best stay away from that tawdry, grubby business and just leave it up to the Chairman and the Three Wise Men.
Pup has realised that his precious time is best utilised marshalling the troops he's been given.
So, Bill Bailey doesn't find himself in the touring party for Seth Efreaker.
Fair enough.
On his showing in five consecutive test matches, not up to standard, and probably never will be.
Might as well put the baggy green in a glass case.
In stark constrast, Swampy Marsh will have to bust open the crystal cabinet to retrieve his baggy, having had no use for it for a full two years
You'd imagine the Hughes Kiddie would be rather shitty about being overlooked - yet again.
Done absolutely nothing wrong of late.
Why else?
The bowling department can look after themselves; first picked.
But fark my brown dog, Harold, what in the name of Joisus Christ is FIGJAM doing in the fifteen?
Bailey got dropped after a summer average of 26.14, Shane was the second worst batsman with 38.33.
The selectors move in mysterious ways.
Said it before, say it again - Watson must have photographs of the selectors and The Board in very compromising positions.
Still, you can only hope that it's a blessing in disguise.
The stated reason Bailey got dropped is that "he's not suited to South African conditions"
If that's the case, Watson will be utterly destroyed by the fearsome Springbok pace attack, and, with any luck, will finally end his playing days on The Veldt.
Lord, help us.