weeping uncontrollably

Old Age Pensioners,

To see on the unblinking eye the images of Michael O’Loughlin weeping uncontrollably as he walked off the hallowed turf of the Sydney Cricket Ground for the very last time as he vainly tried to hide his tears in the collar of his guernsey got me to thinking that there are actually people to which football matters.
It was achingly sad, and yet strangely reassuring that such an ornament to the game had decided to put himself up onto the gilt-edged mantelpiece to be admired forever.
No-one, and that means no-one in the last ten years or more has been more deserving than Magic of admittance to that very exclusive club of SCG Life Members, on the basis of his performances on the ground.
Here’s trusting that the trustees can see their way clear, or perhaps the honour is not bestowed on a black man?
Oh well. Go well ol’ boy; there will never be another Micky O.
Let’s just hope that he meets with brilliant success in his stated retirement aim of extending a helping hand to underprivileged aboriginal kiddies and encouraging more of the really destitute ones to give the game a go in the belief that the stellar heights are indeed attainable.
Did like the interview Magic gave to one of the Sunday fishwraps on the occasion of his 300th, in the ten questions your time starts now format.
Asked “what was the worst thing a coach has ever said to you?”
The great man replied “I had a coach in Adelaide once who once said to me ‘you will never play top grade league football in South Australia’. Funnily enough, I never did. I went straight to the AFL”.
Vale The Great Magic.
All power to his oars.
Jared Crouch looked as he always does, like some kind of muscled up short little tough guy who would not have looked out of place in a small ill-fitting dark suit with Hawaii Five-O sunglasses to match, and a Glock in the footy sock.
Played a heap of games simply on the strength of being Mr Reliable with the added advantage, despite his stature, of being able to scare the living shit out of opposition players as he was running at them full pelt with the aim of delivering a well timed rabbit punch to the nuts.
Will probably go into real estate.
And the sight of Leo Barry, the most unlikely of footballers ever to grace a playing field; not a single rippling muscle on his frame, pecs entirely missing in action, all gangly arms and legs, would give hope to even the most downtrodden.
He’s had the extraordinary luck of being able to ride the gravy train to innumerable free luncheons, trading on his miracle last-second leap to save the 2005 Grand Final.
Good luck to him, and may the toot! toot! continue ever onwards.
Perhaps a campaign should be mounted to rename the curiously titled Kippax-Carroll Dining Room in the Bradman Stand at the SCG the McLoughlin-Barry-Crouch Room.
The trustee’s have a track record in re-naming things at the ground, just ask Pat Hills and Doug Walters MBE.
SC Roos, after that season, would have taken a very low, almost underground, profile at Mad Monday.
Happy to leave all the having fun to BBB Hall.


SYDNEY: 3.4, 6.6, 11.7, 14.8 (92). Goals: O'Loughlin 4, White 3, Goodes 3, Thornton, Ablett, Kirk, Jack
BRISBANE: 3.5, 10.8, 13.9, 15.10 (100). Goals: Brown 3, Sherman 3, McGrath 2, Clark, Harding, Brennan, Austin, Stiller, Black, Polkinghorne
At Sydney Cricket Ground.
Crowd: 27,933.

SC Sheens will go to his grave wondering how on earth it was that Balmain let Scotty Prince go to the Gold Coast a season after the 2005 Grand Final.
At the time, he described the Prince defection, for not that much more money, mind you, as “the worst decision I’ve ever seen in all my time in football. They’ve just ripped the heart out of my backline”.
And doesn’t Prince just love to come back to haunt the Tigers?
Especially when he must rate himself as a half way decent chance of adding a second Premiership Ring to the collection.
Seasoned observers left the ground mulling over the question, and shaking their heads muttering amongst themselves “Our Benji, spectacular try, Best Leb in The Game, two tries, and we still lost the match?????”
The game was a microcosm of all the lost matches through this season.
In it from the outset, well placed throughout, and then opened up like a can of beans in the last ten minutes.
Not hard to see where the coach’s ledger will finish up after he has scratched the final result into the two columns marked “well take our wins” and “well learn from our losses”.

GOLD COAST TITANS 36. Tries: Prince (2), Campbell, O'Dwyer, Rogers, Tagataese. Goals: Prince (6).
WESTS TIGERS 24. Tries: Farah (2), Hanbury (2), Marshall. Goals: Marshall (2).
At Robina Park, Qld.
Crowd: 20,102.

turn on a five cent piece

Loyalists,

Arguably the best game of rugby league football played this year.
And the punters voted with their feet in anticipation, with the biggest crowd seen in Sydney this season for an NRL match, and a home ground record for the Balmain/Western Suburbs joint venture club.
[Although, it’s very very odd that a club which purports to represent all of Western Sydney -- inner, outer and south-western -- should wind up playing home games at a football ground dab smack in the middle of the Eastern Suburbs. What the? Here was a game that should have been played at the Western Paddock aka Olympic Stadium if ever there was one.]
Mighty Tiges looked the goods skipping away to an early eight-nil lead with Our Benji involved in both tries, including that miracle behind-the-back pass that featured on all the highlights reels, but at the end of the day, he left his kicking boots in the boot of his car, and if it wasn’t for Bryce Gibbs, that was the difference between the two sides.
Gibbs had an absolute Barry Crocker, gifting the Eels an eight point try in reply with a penalty for dropping his knees into the back of a hapless Parramatta try scorer, after he scored the try and was well into the in-goal.
What on earth was the bloke thinking? [the judges down at the NRL justice dept couldn’t work it out either, and had no hesitation in giving the fool a two match suspension].
SC Sheens made a fundamental error of judgement in not dragging Gibbs immediately, as he went onto to make more mistakes, and give away at least one more penalty that led to a Parramatta try.
Aint it funny how a whole year can turn on a five cent piece?
The moment Tuiaki went down clutching his leg in agony, had that ugly feeling in my water that it was not only game over, but season over.
[As it turned out the Human Wrecking Ball had busted a fibula and buggered up all the ligaments around his ankle – know how he feels – there will be some rehab involved in that].
Balmain came out of the match, not only dropping from 5th to 10th on the ladder, but with an injury list as long as your arm, and the prospect of winning the last two games and making the finals rapidly disappearing over the horizon.
A footnote on the Parramatta star Jarryd Hayne:
A forest has been felled for newsprint to claim that the kiddie is by far and away the best rugby league player in the world, a dead set freak, a prodigious talent way beyond his years.
That may well be the case, but what they won’t tell you is he’s also probably the dirtiest player in the game.
All elbows, forearms, knees in the tackle, and knows a thing or two about the Christmas hold, the squirrel grip and clotheslining opposition players.
Perhaps the filthiest full-back to take to the park since Garry Jack – and that’s saying something.

WESTS TIGERS 18 Tries: Ryan (2), Ayshford, Morris. Goals: Marshall (1).
PARRAMATTA EELS 26 Tries: Burt, Inu, Robson, Hayne Goals: Inu (5).
At Sydney Football Stadium.
Crowd: 34,272. [joint venture home ground record].


On a picture postcard Indian summer style Sunday afternoon in the Emerald City found myself armed with a hoe down in the backyard vegetable garden, when a head popped out of the kitchen window and yelled “Craves! That thing is doing it again”.
Came up to the house to find the bush telegraph in the corner of the lounge room chattering into life.
Pulled off the tickertape to read:
“Swans stomped on in Championship Quarter. Stop. Beat by five goals plus. Stop.”
Crumpled the scrip in my hand, and reached for a large ice cold beer with the other.
Mad Monday can’t come soon enough.
Some of the kiddies in the side had good games by all reports with Rick Shaw, O’Dwyer and Reg Grundy being mentioned in dispatches, while the Goodes Train would reportedly have picked up a Brownlow vote or two in a losing team [“the umpires darling” and “protected species” is now rated a 6/1 chance by the books to pick up his third Chas Troph. Crikey! Oddsmakers not taking any risks there, are they?]
Seasoned observers at the ground were interested to note that in the first game after the Swans announced the coaching succession plan, SC Roos did nothing at all for the money, and spent the entire game prowling up and down the boundary line like a soccer coach, while Longmire had the head set on and was calling all the shots in the box.
Next season, St Paul will gradually fade to a pinprick of light, before vanishing from view altogether.
The most frightening thing to come out of the game is the fact that Collingwood could win the flag.
Aaaargh!
With Geelong and the Saints both going to pot at the pointy end of the season; the Woods on that performance appear to be entirely capable of beating any other team in the top eight on any given day, and are positioned enviably in an unbeatable third on the ladder.
Perhaps there will be Pies at the MCG for this years Grand Final for the first time in many a year.
A shocking prospect.

COLLINGWOOD 2.3 5.9 10.13 13.19 (97). Goals: Collingwood: Anthony 4, Dick 2, Fraser 2, Wood, Swan, Medhurst, Cloke, Lockyer.
SYDNEY 0.4 4.6 6.7 8.8 (56). Goals: Goodes 3, Barlow, Moore, White, Smith, Bevan.
At Melbourne Cricket Ground.
Crowd: 54,400.

in the cold light of day

Fellow depressee’s,

Stayed up just long enough to see RT Ponting behave like a fool and MJ Clarke commit cricketing suicide, before draining the vodka bottle and passing out, bleeding from the eyes.
Pup! Pup! Pup! What were you thinking?!
It must have been an abject sight to see the Vice-Captain leave the Kennington Oval with his tail between his legs after suffering from a rare brain explosion, as a mate said, “due for back surgery after carrying the rest of the team for the entire tour.”
The Royal Commissioners are gathering in London as we speak to begin taking evidence on a single term of reference in the Letters Patent – to wit “sheet home the blame”.
Their Honours will no doubt find, in the cold light of day, that the positions of Hilditch and Ponting are now, of course, untenable.
Hilditch for picking the wrong touring party in the first place, and then presiding over a muddle-headed tour selection “policy”, and Ponting for just being a lil’cockhead.
In the time-honoured fashion, the buck must stop at the top.

I’m off to pull a wave over my bonce.
Farewell, dear friends.

Shattered of Sydney.

a different bottle of mussels altogether

Disgruntled clubmen,

On the event bus to the ground, sat across from a Geelong fan in an understated retro Cats top and navy blue jeans, sporting a fabulous bouffant and ridiculously long fingernail extensions.
Waiting for her to pick her nose with one of them, when a pair of tickets to the game were noticed being held in a very nervous vice like grip; she’d almost crushed the chits between finger and thumb, so firmly were they wedged in there.
The quivering anxiety about the possibility of another champion season being cruelled at the last hurdle was etched in her face.
Needn’t have worried so much.
It was an all round fairly miserable night out, if the truth be known.
[But no complaints about the cheap seats; they were the best we’d ever had in six years on the four-game Family Homebush Superpass at $11.65 a ticket – including free Olympic style public transport -- the best weekend entertainment value in the Emerald City by the length of the street -- and it was something of an end of an era, being the last time all the family will go to the bleachers together, given that the eldest is about to turn 20 in a minute; it would be something of an ask to get her in as a child next season!]
The beer was very horrible, flat, barely cold and with a distinct metallic tang, and soon gave way to fair sized cups of a half-decent shiraz out of a bottle at the back of bar at seven bucks a throw.
The pies tasted like they had in them offal that’d been swept up off the factory floor.
No mention of kidneys and livers on the list of ingredients on the cellophane packet, but they were there, nothing surer.
Swans performance was similarly smelly, exuding that special aroma of a sad season wasted like a shot bird.
A cursory glance at the stats sheet reveals of the Swans’ 12 losses this season, apart from this one and the one point loss to the Saints, they have been beaten, well beaten, in every other with a points margin between 11 and 61, with an average losing margin of 26.
Not like it used to be.
Failure to capitalize on a good four goals-to-two win in the Championship Quarter, inability to shut down a down-on-their-luck champion team’s attack, along with an abject display of futility trying to kick a winning goal nearing the end of the final stanza -- all the blood, sweat and tears in the final paralysis amounting to nothing.
You’d have to wonder if the young blokes in the side had been told footy is a hard, cruel game as they hung their heads in the customary fashion after a narrow loss?
Jack Shit was easily best on ground.
A coach killer.
No wonder SC Roos is giving the game away before he goes completely bald.
Welcome to the brave new world, Longy!

SYDNEY: 2.3, 5.5, 9.11, 13.9 (87). Goals: O'Loughlin 3, Mattner 2, Goodes 2, Moore, Kirk, White, Hannebery, J.Bolton, O'Keefe.
GEELONG: 3.4, 6.5, 8.7, 13.12 (92). Goals: Byrnes 3, Mooney 3, Hawkins 2, Johnson, Lonergan, Selwood, Ablett, Corey.
At Olympic Stadium, Homebush.
Crowd: 40,261.


The usual suspects were arranged [or should that be arraigned?] along the front bar at The Local, with a few extra Big Brown Brothers in, as is normally the case of a Sunday afternoon when the Tigers are playing.
Most agreed that Cronulla are arguably the worst team to be turned out on the paddock by any club in this season of mediocrity, which led to some spirited discussion of the impact of the salary cap on the caper.
“the NRL is not aiming to create a competition of equality, but rather a competition of evenness – so no side can be better than the other, or in other words, any given team can be just as bad as any another”.
There was much decrying of the fact that under the current regime, the genuine superstar teams of the not so distant past are simply impossible to put together in this day and age.
“who have the kiddies got to look up to anymore?”
The Human Wrecking Ball had a wow of a game with three tries.
The bloke certainly has terrific explosive pace for someone who’s lugging around a 110kg frame; no one in the caper, big or small, can catch him on the burst, let alone put a hand on him, so it’s easy to see why he is now the season’s leading try-scorer.
There was even talk of lining up Tuiaki against Usain Bolt behind the mobile barrier at Harold Park for a match race over 30 metres.
Much nodding of heads “kid’d go well”.
Our Benji again showed all the skills in his 100th game – there’s just no defending against the “Benji Step”.
The Moltzen Kiddie has been ping-ponged all over the back line in recent weeks and again found himself at full back, and played brilliantly after deciding that the defence would look after itself and all he needed to do was inject himself into the game as an extra centre.
That Pom Ellis was reprimanded a couple of weeks ago for putting in a leg tackle, and almost did it again, before he recalled an old timer telling him “in my day son, a deliberate trip was a send-off offence”.
Ten tries to two, and this from a side fielding a half-back, in the form of Robert Fui, who had never played the game before [well, at least not in first grade].
Lo and behold, the Monday morning spinning of the abacus revealed the Mighty Tiges, after six wins and bye, now in fifth place on the ladder -- on top of the log jam on points for and against.
Gosh!
But the real test against the Eels, Titans and Bulldogs is yet to come.
SC Sheens would be acutely aware that even if Balmain did make the finals, they’d have to beat all those sides again to go anywhere near the season decider.
The Philosopher in the Corner, as is his wont, said nothing during the match, but on the full time hooter was heard to be muttering something indistinct about 2005 into his brandy and soda, before startling everyone with a loud exclamation “September is a different bottle of mussels altogether! You mark my words!”

CRONULLA-SUTHERLAND SHARKS 10. Tries: Brown, Wright. Goals: Covell (1).
WESTS TIGERS 56. Tries: Tuiaki (3), Marshall (2), Ayshford (2), Ryan (2), Moltzen. Goals: Marshall (8).
At Shark Park, Cronulla.
Crowd: 12,982.

as if by alchemy

Merit Makers,

It was pretty obvious to all and sundry from the off that Richmond had decided to throw the game for the draft picks.
And why wouldn’t they? Nothing in the rules at present that says they can’t.
They knew that no one in their right mind would want to do anything to spoil Micky O’s party, and as a result there would be no steward’s inquiry.
Never even pretended to try to cover it up, not even Cuz, who has form trying to cover things up.
Not that Cuz really had to try very hard to play badly – the Iceman is a sad shadow of his former self who won’t be winning the Brownlow again in the near or distant future.
No one ever expected Magic to put in a blinder, just a speccy mark, a couple of goals; that’ll do to pick up AFL Life Membership.
Yelled at a few kiddies to get on with their jobs, and among them Pup Hanebery impressed for the first time [not that he’s had many games] and suggested he could have a future in the big league.
Nobody was more pleased that Magic got to his 300th than his Ol’ Mate Never Played A Bad Game Since I Found Nirvana Kirk and his kinsman the Goodes Train.
If fact, The Train was probably best on ground just to prove the point
At half time, there was a touching pre-recorded television interview that Cap’n Kirk had conducted with Magic in front of the SCG Members Stand where they went through old times and Michael paid tribute to his mum as the biggest influence on his football career and how he wanted to help indigenous kiddies in retirement etc.
At the end of the piece, Kirk gave the Great Man a big bear hug and said “you are better than a brother”, before looking down the barrel of the camera and saying “well, there you have it, Michael ‘Magic’ O’Loughlin, champion footballer, and an even better person”.
Kirk almost flattened Micky with running bear hug on the full time siren.
As my eldest remarked “isn’t that nice” – heartwarming to see that football actually does engender long-term heart-felt friendships -- when “most of it seems to be faked most of the time”.
Wonder if Magic appeared in a specially tailored gold lame suit after the game at the Swans Club in The Cross, or if the Bamfords conspired to give him the three Brownlow points anyway for career long originality?
After being written off as a finals hope a few weeks ago, the one point loss to the Saints certainly cruelling any realistic chance; and yet there remains a mathematical possibility with some pundits still talking up Sydney’s chances of squeezing into number eight [then to be massacred in the first week of the finals].
What chance against the faltering Cats at the Western Paddock Satdee night?
Won’t be any pretending there.
Tickets to the cheap seats are in hand.

RICHMOND: 3.3, 5.5, 7.6, 10.8 (68). Goals: King 3, Deledio, Polo, Rance, Vickery, Cousins, White, Morton
SYDNEY: 4.6, 9.10, 17.10, 18.15 (123). Goals: Goodes 4, White 2, Jack 2, O'Loughlin 2, Moore 2, J Bolton, Kirk, McVeigh, Ablett, Barlow, O'Dwyer.
Melbourne Cricket Ground.
Crowd: 32,216.

Never did see a frame of the Tigers game as it was played simultaneously as the Magic Memorial.
But by all accounts it was a tradesman like affair, with Balmain bulldozing over the top of the hapless Roosters in the second stanza after trailing 8-6 at half time.
Match descriptions best left to those who were directly involved:
SC Sheens: “We made hard work of it that’s for sure. Overall, my blokes needed to pull the whip on themselves, and they did.”
Best Leb In The Game: “It wasn’t pretty. I don’t think we can be happy with the way we played.”
That said, the try to the Human Wrecking Ball, Tuiaki, was noted among seasoned observers at the ground as one of the season’s best.
Latched onto a perfect cut out pass from That Big Pom Ellis at pace, found his way forward obstructed, put the ball on the toe for a deft chip kick through the defence, ran out over the sideline, then regained the field of play, re-gathered the ball, and scored.
And Farah potted his third field goal in as many matches, this time at the appropriate moment, to put the question beyond doubt.
You can imagine everyone’s surprise come Monday morning when the abacus had totted up the figures to find the Mighty Tiges, as if by alchemy, in 7th place on the ladder!
Five wins on the trot and a bye officially qualifies as a late season purple patch, and if the die-hards are to be believed, it’s already verging on indigo.

SYDNEY ROOSTERS 10. Tries: Sa, Kenny-Dowall. Goals: Fitzgibbon (1).
WESTS TIGERS 17. Tries: Ryan (2), Tuiaki. Goals: Marshall (2). Field Goals: Farah (1).
At Sydney Football Stadium.
Crowd: 16,427.

the importance of being Pup

Canine fanciers,

The importance of MJ Clarke’s knock at Leeds can’t be overestimated.
In fact, when he got out to a lazy shot to a sub-standard delivery, found myself exclaiming, “well bugger me, Pup’s just gone and won the Ashes single-handedly”.
Never mind that he didn’t reach triple figures, by then the England bowlers were toast -- well and truly cremated, put through the grinding machine, and turned into a fine dust.
Sure, all credit to the North Kiddie on another ton, but North is a collector of runs, rather than a scorer of runs, who was expertly managed by Clarke with tip top strike rotation in a 150-run partnership.
You have to remember when Pup arrived at the crease at 4/151, nothing was certain, and after losing the toss on day one, he never expected to be batting anyway.
Would have much rather continued to graze on lamingtons in the pavilion.
On day two, Pup dispatched anything a millimetre outside middle down the leg side with a cracking leg drive, or stylishly pulled away the rubbish to the boundary.
Never troubled for Best in Show.
Carrying a dose of Shagger’s Side Strain would have reminded him he was alive after every stroke, and getting donged on the head is always a good wake up call during an innings, too!
Probably said to himself as he rubbed his forehead “mmm, better keep watching the ball”.
Forget those who will tell you it was a more balanced Strayan bowling attack that won the match – you still need the runs, and plenty of them, on the board.
Of course there are calls for a witch hunt to determine which selector[s] voted against playing Clark No-E from day one at Cardiff, but the Pom batting line up at Headingley always looked terribly terribly weak on paper, with a very very long tail, and so it turned out to be in reality.
No Freddie. No KP. No cigar, Engerland.
It’s as simple as that.

"a bloody point"

Choirmasters,

“A bloody point!” – the melancholy refrain heard for quite a while around these parts after the 2006 AFL Grand Final, when Sydney were beaten by a bunch of artificially beefed up eerily spaced out cokeheads by the smallest of margins.
Jeez, you can even go back to 1978, when a former mother-in-law was heard to chant the phrase in a dazed mantra-trance-like fashion while downing the contents of an entire bottle of sherry and then passing out after Sturt suffered a bloody point loss to Norwood in the SANFL Grand Final in the “Upset of The Century”.
The best performance of the season by far by the Swans, for the worst possible result.
Word on the street is that The Goodes Train took a few of the younger blokes aside at training mid-week and told them “we can beat this mob”, and goddamit, he was almost right.
Probably the only time this year if asked “who was yr best on ground?”, you could honestly reply “all played well”.
Went zone for zone with the Saints in the first half, but if anything, the match only reinforced the critical importance of the Championship Quarter and the fact that class and quality will always win out in the end.
After being in front by a goal after the first two quarters; having four goals to none kicked on you in the third really had the home side’s back pinned to the wall, and despite some heroics from The Train and Magic [in his 299th] the result somehow appeared inevitable.
The long random bomb at the dénouement that dribbled through next to a behind post for the win always loomed as the final outcome.
Ironic wasn’t it, that Along Came A Schneider came back to haunt Sydney by playing a crucial role after the long break with a couple of majors for the Saints?
Here’s a bloke the Swans let go for nothing for “not kicking enough goals, as stated in the contract, and having an attitude problem” who now finds himself as a regular member of a side that remains undefeated deep into the home and away season for the first time in living memory.
SC Roos, not by his own admission, pulled the wrong reign there.
Clearly remember watching the season opener between the Saints and the Swans on television back in March in the Viper’s Nest at the Prince of Wales Hotel in St Kilda during the Australian F1 GP and pronouncing “St Kilda will win the flag on that showing”.
Got a couple of backslaps from locals despite the silly Swans hat.
Nothing has changed my opinion.
And in the grand scheme of things, only five months down the track, the Swans have essentially been reduced to nothing more than a potential nuisance to a couple of sides looking to sweep their way through to the end of September.

SYDNEY: 3.4, 8.9, 8.12, 13.15 (93). Goals: White 3, Goodes 2, Ablett 2, Bird, Barlow, Jack, Mattner, McVeigh, O'Loughlin.
ST KILDA: 4.4, 7.8, 11.13, 13.16 (94). Goals: Riewoldt 2, Schneider 2, McQualter 2, Gwilt, McEvoy, Milne, King, Gram, Koschitzke, Dal Santo.
At Sydney Cricket Ground.
Crowd: 27,805.

Noice to see the “bloody point” tables turned on those damnable Silvertails, for a change, in the other match of the weekend.
It was only individual brilliance that allowed the Mighty Tiges to get an 18-nil jump on the reigning premiers by half time, not the least of which was Our Benji skipping away to a 70 metre try without a hand being laid on him and displaying all the trademark skills on the way through.
But it was a very risky gamble of The Best Leb in the Game to pot the field goal with 19 minutes to go.
It more or less telegraphed to the opposing team “we reckon we’ve got enough points on the board, there’s the one point swing, now come and get us.”
Manly took up the invitation with gusto, bashing Balmain from pillar to post in the final quarter of the game of two halves, scoring a few tries and right at the final siren finding themselves about a metre from the home side’s goal, with the line wide open, and the game suddenly over.
As Benji candidly remarked on interview after the match “I’d completely run out of lungs after that. In truth, we were very lucky to win that one”
At last a couple of good players who we had forgotten we had, talking Christopher Hit Man Heighington and Keefy Wranger Galloway here, have finally emerged from long stints in the casualty ward, automatically adding some more steel to the defence, and extra grunt to the forward’s go forward.
Diehards have long memories, and some are foolishly talking up the prospect of a genuine late season purple patch, but SC Sheens, also on interview after the game, when questioned as to whether the pattern of events surrounding the recent winning streak could possibly be a harbinger of the 2005 Miracle Glory Year; complained of being a poor student of history suffering from short term memory loss:
“That year is gone. Last week is gone. This week’ll be gone tomorrow. We’ve just got to keep going. That’s the way we’ve got to think”.

WESTS TIGERS 19. Tries: Marshall, Ryan, Tuiaki. Goals: Marshall (3) Field Goals: Farah (1).
MANLY-WARRINGAH SEA EAGLES 18. Tries: Watmough (2), T.Williams. Goals: Orford (3).
At Sydney Football Stadium.
Crowd: 13,531.