the value of a ham sandwich in a brown paper bag

Scandalizers,

At half time, the Channel Nine camera panned across one of the grand stands at the Sydney Football Stadium, then focussed its gaze on a large hand-written banner being held up on two tall sticks of dowel that read THE CURIOUS CASE OF BENJI MARSHALL.
"Aah", the Good Lady Wife remarked, "they'd be Balmain people. On drugs".
There's no coaching against being absolutely steamrollered, with the Bulldogs pack deciding they were too big and too strong from the outset for the Tigers forwards on the day, and to go about using that muscle to deny the opposition possession and barge and bash the holy joisus out of them as they tackle themsleves into the ground.
There was much that was honourable, won't go so far as to say heroic, in only being down 6-0 at half time -- but at what a cost?
No ground gained, with the heavy artillery gone and the light infantry ineffectual.
Excuse the Anzac Day pun.
Not even the fittest of the match-fit teams can come back from that sort of treatment
Little wonder rugby league is the shortest of all codes at just 80 minutes playing time.
The Balmain forwards were too shot, too buggered after 50, with the likes of Benji, that Try Scoring Freak Lawrence and the Paver With Legs standing around with their hands in their pockets.
The Paver was clearly out of his depth, particularly when he was turned on his heels by the Canterbury attack virtually on his try line and ended up never putting a hand on the try scorer.
Getting turned around being a cardinal sin in the rugby league.
Otherwise, he tried his best, but still has a formidable library of football books to read.
The chance of pulling off an early season "purple patch" [officially classified as a five game winning streak] was never going to be.
At a loss to think of what can be learnt from such a defeat?
Have to leave that up to SC Sheens, Roycey, Folkesy and Skando to discover, and leave the Club Secretary right out of it -- he'd be a very busy man anyway, finding out who it is exactly that's paying for the strawberries and cream.

Bit off topic here, but it was a supreme irony that news filtered through that Juan Antonio Samaranch had decided to shuffle off on the same day the Melbourne Storm got busted and rubbed out.
The long-time No.1 Chief Captain of the No.1 Gravy Train of all time certainly knew the value of a ham sandwich in a brown paper bag.
You only have to look at the Champagne and caviar bill that SOCOG coughed up for in 2000.
Little wonder Juan insisted on being called "Your Excellency".
As a mate remarked, "anyone who could sell the idea of buying hookers to the Mormons must have known a trick or two in his time".
1st class facists always travel 1st class.
Obviously, Brian "Two Books" Waldron & Co. were operating on Samaranch's lifelong principle of "it's not illegal unless you get caught".
In a double irony, who would have imagined that the Storm would have thought that they could get away with paying for the hospitality tent twice?
Good one, that.
They might as well have put that one in the books as "half-time oranges".


WESTS TIGERS 4. Tries: Tuqiri.
CANTERBURY BULLDOGS 24. Tries. Ennis (2), Patten, Kimmorley. Goals Goodwin (4).
At Sydney Football Stadium.
Crowd: 19,491.

"well, we haven't had as good a start as that in quite a few years now. Not even in the '05 Premiership season".
SC Roos, 18/4/10...
Oh dear.
Is it wise of the main man to be speaking of the Miracle Year with 18 matches left to play?
Probably only made it as an off the cuff comment at Sunday morning Smoko down by the magic waters, someone overheard it, and it ended up in the papers.
North always looked like they were going to collapse around the edges of the ruck in the Championship Quarter, and kicking five goals on them just proved the point.
Very pleasing to see the Hannebery kiddie on fire.
Stout, and doesn't mind getting involved in the occasional stacks-on-the-mill.
Would have been the best on ground by the length of the street.
And Young Jetta had a fine game, quickly finding his feet in the top grade; all the skills and a superbly placed kick across the wide open spaces to die for.
If they can both overcome the handicap of their small frames, and are given the proper compensation in match day sandwiches, you'd think they'd both be 10+ year players for Syderneee.
The Goodes Train continues on his merry way as the Bamford's pet and it wouldn't surprise if he picked up another Brownlow point.
Another nine man goal kicking list.
No one is complaining about the The Longmire Effect.

NORTH MELBOURNE: 3.4, 6.7, 8.11, 8.12 (60 ). Goals: Edwards 2, Wells 2, Hale, Thomas, Harvey, Adams
SYDNEY: 3.2, 6.6, 11.11, 14.16 (100 ). Goals: Bradshaw 4, Goodes 2, Mattner 2, O'Keefe, McGlynn, White, Kirk, Hannebery, Kennedy.
At Docklands Stadium.
Crowd: 23,646.

the 'paver with legs'

Snoozers,

At nine goals in advance by the long break, there was nothing for it but to reach for the pipe and slippers and finding myself home alone curled up on the lounge in front of the Crystal Bucket; the dog fetched me a nice glass of port.
Richmond are truly, truly, awul.
They will win the wooden spoon by the length of the street.
It's difficult to conjour up a football club, in any code, who have put out a worse team onto the paddock in living memory.
Sure they are forced to spread their meagre talent very thinly, but it's plain to see that their hearts aren't in it.
Always fatal in this caper.
Only evinced by Bad Uncle "Iceman" Cuz involving a few of his more gullible team mates on a drunken 'rampage'/jolly jape through the Intercontinental Hotel at three o'clock in the morning Sunday, upsetting a few other patrons.
Made worse by the fact that it wasn't as if the hotel staff and security didn't know who they were.
Red lights should have started flashing as they said to each other, "oh, no, here come some footballers".
Ironic that Cuz was rubbed out for a week of account of his omissions, rather than his acts.
The dumb-arsed fool who was sent to the wilderness for seven weeks might as well kiss goodbye to his football career right now.
Notwithstanding, The Ugliest Man in Football, Lewis Roberts-Thomson, having his best game in a very long time at full back, as mentioned last week, the Longmire Influence is now becoming very apparent.
'Horse' is obviously from the old school that says the whole point of a football match is to kick more goals than the other team, as opposed to the SC Roos theory that it's best to win games by denying the opposition goals.
Longmire realises that if you can get the mojo working through the centre and across the wings, then the defence should be able to look after itself.
And with plenty of go-to men up front [you only have to look at the multiple goal scorers in this week's scorebox, and then the ten goal kickers in sixteen goals] there's no need in the modern game for a marquee player of the likes of BBB Hall.
By the end of thy season, SC Roos will be struttin' up and down along the boundary line barking encouragement like a soccer manager, while Longmire calls the shots from the coaches box.

SYDNEY: 6.4, 10.6, 13.13, 16.15 (111). Goals: Bradshaw 4, McGlynn 3, Goodes 2, O'Keefe, Kennedy, Jack, Moore, Mumford, J. Bolton, Malceski.
RICHMOND: 0.4, 1.8, 4.10, 7.14 (56). Goals: Riewoldt 3, Edwards, Simmonds, Nason, Deledio.
At Sydney Cricket Ground.
Crowd: 28,414.

It's only slightly concerning that Balmain, once again, are running out of half-backs so early in the season, with the Moltzen kiddie picking up what looks like a season-ender against the Cowboys.
Not to worry, Lazarus to the rescue!
Blake Lazarus has been plucked out of reserve grade to make his debut at No.7 in the firsts against the Evil Bulldogs, largley because SC Sheens had no other choice.
Young Blake has ancestry, given that he's a nephew of The Great 'Brick With Eyes', Uncle Glen Lazarus.
He's known in his family as the 'Paver With Legs'.
True!
Didn't see a frame of the game in Townsville, only snippets of the radio call, including the comment "Benji Marshall's goal kicking is just not up to first grade standard. Simple as that", so in no position to make much of analysis, but by all reports from spies at the ground the Tiges pack is on fire; in this case laying out the groundwork against good defence with some well placed heavy artillery allowing the light infantry in the form of Lote "Wot'd I do, Guv?" Turquiri and the try scoring freak Lawrence to tip toe around the shell holes .
Under extreme pressure in the second half, yet another field goal from the Best Leb In The Game nicely diffused a dangerous situation, with Far North Qld, needing to score twice, unable to penetrate the Balmain brick wall thrown up around the ball, effectively shutting the game down.
Brilliant!
SC Sheens a long memory.
Asked on interview after the game for his thoughts on the team's general performance he replied "well, we haven't won here in a while".
He knows the value of beating the Cowboys home and away in any regular season, a la The Miracle of '05.

NORTH QUEENSLAND COWBOYS 16. Tries: Bolton, Tonga, Watts. Goals: Williams (1), Thurston (1).
WESTS TIGERS 23. Tries: Lawrence (2), Tuqiri, Heighington. Goals: Marshall (2), Field Goals: Farah (1).
At Townsville Stadium.
Crowd: 16,273.

fruit for the sideboard

Listeners,

It was a matter of driving the car up from the South Coast with the GLW's right hand on the steering wheel while she attempted to tune the crystal set set in the dashboard of the ol' Camry with her left hand into the faint signal from the ABC NewsRadio transmitter in Sydney, while it was up to me to hang the coathanger aerial out the passenger side window, in order to pick up the call of the Adelaide-Sydney game.
Reception came good just after Berry.
Could hear this rag-tag bunch of footballers playing away and kicking a few goals.
With Hawthorn discard "In Like" McGlynn prominent early, it was sounding like the various journeymen were stepping up, and the brace of greenhorns were starting to get the idea of what goes on in the top grade.
At seven goals in advance at the long break it was bleedingly obvious that the match was all over bar the shouting; so there was nothing for it but to nip into Kiama for some hot battered flathead and chips wrapped up in butchers paper, teamed with some cheap Belgian beer from the Esky.
It was Easter Sunday after all, and we'd already got it arse about by dining on the fatted lamb on Good Friday.
The next day's fishwraps suggested the Swans smashed 'em in the ruck and were willing in front of centre, and with so many newbies on board, it looked like there might be some changes in game style on foot, with less reliance on flooding defence, and more emphasis on putting points on the board.
No bad winning by seven goals when the Goodes Train, among others, was hardly mentioned at all in the radio call.
At Monday morning smoko down by the magic waters at Bronte sea baths, SC Roos was described as being "chuffed".
Might have pondered his recruiting policy, and how it might defy the odds for a season or two as Longmire had a puff or two on the pipe, as he pondered the future.
Roll away the stone?
It's going to be a long, long season for the poor sufferin' hapless Crows fans, going forward.
As an aside, did note with interest SC Roos observations mid-week at the launch of the Swans new million dollar per annum Talent Academy for Young Kiddies With Prospects, decrying the fact that it hadn't been done 20 years ago and as a result the Swans had lost an entire generation of potential Australian Rules footballers born in NSW, and then backed that up with "and let's be truthful here. The only reason we are doing this now is that another team is coming into Sydney".
Speaking the truth about expediency at its very best.

ADELAIDE 2.3, 4.5, 8.7, 11.9 (75). Goals: Dangerfield 5, McLeod 2, Petrenko 2, Burton, Douglas.
SYDNEY 4.3, 11.4, 14.9, 18.10 (118). Goals: McGlynn 5, O'Keefe 3, Bradshaw 2, Kennedy 2, Seaby 2, Goodes, Kirk, Moore, Jack.
At Football Park, Adelaide.
Crowd: 36,041.


SC Sheens hit on a very clever ploy with his team down 12-zip at half time.
He could see , like any other seasoned observer in the ground, that the big, fat, lumbering Canberra forwards would not last the distance.
Just told the lads to give the ball to them as much as possible early in the second half, and then just mow them down as their tackle count skyrockets.
About 25 minutes to go, and the Raider's pack were completely out on their feet.
SC Sheens had used his substitutes judiciously and had fresh legs on the bench, unlike Canberra, who had nothing left in the heavy artillery department.
Lo and behold the advatange line opens up like the parting of the Red Sea, and the Balmain backs stroll through for a couple to level the score.
As soon as the Best Leb in The Game potted the well timed field goal to go a point in front with ten to go, it was game over.
The last two tries at the death were the fruit for the sideboard, as the coach will always take good for and against everytime, along with the Premiership points.
SC Sheens as crafty as ever in a very fine performance.

CANBERRA RAIDERS 22. Tries: Tilse, Picker, Croker, Fensom. Goals: Campese (3).
WESTS TIGERS 35. Tries: Fulton (2), Farah, Marshall, Lawrence, Ryan. Goals: Marshall (5). Field Goals: Farah (1).
At Canberra Stadium.
Crowd: 17,112.

some coffee shop in Chiswick

Bleacherites,

Saw him out of the corner of my eye as he breasted the bar tucked in behind Bay 145 at the Western Paddock.
He had on long sandy-coloured hair, that jutted out scarecrow style at a 45 degree angle from underneath a finely hand-crafted three-tiered Saints beanie, that looked more like some kind of extravagant Rastafraian hat in red, white and black, and was an abvious family heirloom.
He teamed that with the full-tote-odds navel-length beard straight out of ZZ Top and an ancient, well worn Saints guernsey that would have seen it's origins back in the early 80's, perhaps 70's, stove-pipe black jeans and black leather motorcycling boots.
He purchased one beer and went on his merry way, acting like a completely normal person.
Unlike the couple in their mid-30's who sat in the row behind us.
They appeared to be of Nordic origin, they wore no merch, did not eat nor drink, both had the earphones in - no doubt tuned to the NewsRadio call - and showed no emotion throughout, except for allowing themselves a little polite applause from time to time in appreciation of football well played, by either side.
Pretty sure neither of them smiled once.
Don't want to know what they were on.
Takes all sorts in the cheap seats.
More on my wave length was the boy a few rows in, guessing about 12 years old, who had obviously been taught by experts by the sound of his vocabulary of vitriol being directed at the Bamfords.
He was encouraging his mates to join in, but didn't find myself needing any encouragement in giving The Officials, who clearly had never read a Rule Book in their entire miserable lives, a few spittle-spraying words of wisdom, mainly touching on the high probability of their parents not being married on the occasion of their contemptible birth.
A nice touch that OPSM have found the good humour to sponsor the AFL Goal and Boundary Umpires this year.
Irony at it's best.
Just a pity that they don't wear numberplates on their backs, as the Field Umpires do, so you could go after them as well, personally.
Especially after their combined effort in the last quarter, when it was clear from our very close view of the southern goal from the cheap seats, that the defender had touched the ball after it had gone well over the goal line as a Swans speculator sailed high through the sticks.
A goal if ever there was one, and yet the Goal Umpire who was up to "look-at-me" prissy antics running about in small circles behind the line and not looking, and the two Boundary Umpires who were standing hard up against the point posts like they were on some kind of powerful mind-altering drugs, called it a behind.
With no less than six greenhorns in the Swans side, the match had an air of inevitablity about it against an uber-experienced St Kilda outfit.
When you get 9.0 kicked on you to half-time through a combination of free gifts to the away side from the Bamfords and some awful defensive work from Sydernee, it was always going to be a case of chasing your tail with catch up football.
None of the youngesters played very well, which is to be expected in a pipe-opener, while Jesse "James" White had a shocker, SC Roos said as much.
And someone as seasoned as Malceski having a brain snap and giving away a 50m free in the dying stages didn't help matters.
And how was it that Kozzie got 3 weeks for taking out Tadgh in the first quarter, and yet someone called Zac taking out Tadgh with a vicious head-high clotheline that left the great Irishman with concussion and a bloodied lip, got off scott free?
Why was it that the Bamfords and the Tribunal missed it entirely?
If it was BBB Hall, he would be been put in the cooler for a few weeks.
But there were a couple of snippets of good news to come out of the game.
On the event bus on the way home all agreed that the Lewis Jetta kiddie looks the goods for a very small centre-man; otherwise the harbingers wouldn't have been sounding the trumpets before him.
And with The Goodes Train [who probably did enough for at least two Brownlow votes] having the ball on a string, or not, as the case may be, as he scored two miracle goals both soccered off the ground, it was pleasing to note that Pim Verbeek, has picked Adam to be the main target for the Socceroos from free kicks just outside the 18 yard box during the World Cup.
Could do worse.

SYDNEY: 3.3 7.5 9.8 13.10 (88). Goals: Goodes 3, Mattner 2, Kirk, Jack, Malceski, McVeigh, Moore, O’Keefe, Bradshaw, White.
ST KILDA: 5.0 9.0 13.4 15.6 (96). Goals: Riewoldt 4, Gram 2, Koschitzke 2, Dal Santo, Goddard, Geary, Milne, McQualter, Peake, Schneider.
At Stadium Australia, Homebush.
Crowd: 31,333.


Think now and then what it would be like to be in Being Marshall's brain box
Take the chip kick off the left foot for Turqiri to score the "worth the price of admission alone" try in far left had rear corner of the in-goal.
Even from the outside looking in, you could see the cogs working overtime.
The jink, the step, the ball, the foot, the wide vision eyes to see where everyone is, the speed off a standing start, and the physique to carry the idea through.
Never mind Benji's terrible goal kicking of late, it probably keeps him and his mum awake at night; the well timed field goal just before half time when no one was looking, to the point where the TV very narrowly almost didn't get it, was the epitome of a thinker on his feet.
It's very clear now, in the luxury of 20-20 hindsight, that Marshall was thrown into first grade way too young, way too early, simply on the strength or otherwise of his prodigous talent.
There he was in the Miracle Year '05, barely out of his teens, playing outside Scotty Prince; and then proceeded to be bashed from pillar to post over the ensuing years.
The hurly burly of top grade rugby league is not an easy caper by any means, for even the fittest of bodies to put up with.
Benji's two shoulder re-constructions are testament to that.
And it doesn't help that you were a kid with plenty of ego to a-go-go.
But that's where SC Sheens steps in.
Did note mid week that over a morning coffee and croissant in some coffee shop in Chiswick, Super Coach Sheens scribbled out the terms of his one year contract renewel/extension on a paper napkin.
The Club Secretary was very happy to take that to The Board, who had been gently reminding SC Sheens through back channels of the results on the ladder over the past four years, but in the end rubber stamped it.
When news chattered in on the bush telegraph in the corner of the loungeroom that the deal had been done, SC Sheens got on the medium-wave radio and assured punters that if the Tigers did not make the final eight this year...
"I will sack myself, and seek to get out of the contract. The reverse of situation normal".
Magnificent.
Suppose if, after 26 years in the coaching caper, you can't do it on your own terms, there's not much point doing it.
When Marshall's father died in December, Benji wasn't surprised that SC Sheens, when word filtered through, was the first bloke on the phone, and the first bloke to come around and see him at his place.
But Benji was mightily impressed when SC Sheens turned up at the funeral in NZ a few days later, unannounced.
Although it's not for publication on the 'one game at a time' principle, there's little doubting that Tim and Benji would have had a quiet word with each other over a favoured tipple about the tremendous value in winning a second Premiership.

WESTS TIGERS 23. Tries: Marshall (2), Tuqiri (2), Ayshford. Goals: Marshall (1). Field Goals: Marshall (1).
PARRAMATTA EELS 12. Tries: Inu, Reddy. Goals: Inu (2).
At Sydney Football Stadium.
Crowd: 21,318.

frothing at the mouth

Meteorologists,

Holy Camp Boy! 76 points in the game!
Whatever happened to early season defensive work?
Then again, you can understand it, with the mercury tipping 32 degrees in Paddington at the time of the kick off.
The Tigers, in retrospect, were fools to accept the local rules that called for a drinks break every 20 minutes.
After scoring two early tries, Balmain were cruelled by the Bamford when he said "do you want a drinks break, boys?"
Completely lost their momentum, and then The Chooks planted two soft tries on them.
By half time the backs were going ga-ga as their eyes did Marty Feldman impressions, and the forwards were frothing at the mouth like distressed standardbred racehorses, and the second stanza looked like a mere technicality.
You had to feel for the poor Timmy Moltzen kiddie, who had a shocker at full back.
No less than three Eastern Suburbs try scorers found themselves in the in-goal without Moltzen having laid a hand on them.
As the Good Lady Wife commented "maybe it's the metal plate that he has installed in the back of his skull, you know the one, the result of that accident he had when he was a schoolboy footballer; maybe in the heat, it's melted into his brain and sucked out all the 'play good football' hormones and nerve endings?"
As good a theory as any.
In his weekly letter home to his folks in Terrigal, Moltzen would have talked about the rigours of training and everything he'd had for breakfast, lunch and dinner in the week prior, before signing off "didn't play very well on Sunday".
SC Sheens would have pulled the unfortunate boy aside after the game for a quiet talking to, but you wouldn't have imagined that he came down very hard on the bloke.
It's probably too early in the season to send anyone to the Room Full of Mirrors down on the Balmain Road for a good look at themsleves.
Keefy "Bludnut" Galloway was the Tiges man-of-the match for mine, if you look at the pedometer he was carrying measuring the miles he ran, and the number of hit-ups and tackles he made.
On Monday morning, SC Sheens would have pulled out the leather bound Coaches Ledger kept in the Club Secretary's office, neatly ruled into two columns marked "we'll take our wins" and "we'll learn from our losses", and made his customary scratch in the second column.
Not quite back to the drawing board, but The Great Skando as forwards coach would know that he has some work to do, and SC Folkesy would be subjecting the detailed fitness and conditioning charts to some close scrutiny.
The Club Secretary would just shrug his shoulders as he totted up the gate takings dollars and cents at yet another long lunch.
Parramatta will be no cake walk in the park this Friday night, and while you can take an away loss on a bloodied nose, it doesn't take Einstein and his damnable Theory of General Relativity to work out the mathematical value of winning at home, even if the venues, strangely, are the same.

SYDNEY ROOSTERS 44. Tries: Graham (2), Guerra (2), Pearce (2), Aubusson, Minichiello. Goals: Carney (6).
WESTS TIGERS 32. Tries: Marshall (2), Tuqiri, Ayshford, Schirnack, Fifita. Goals: Marshall (4)
At Sydney Football Stadium.
Crowd: 19,021.

a hundred in Wellington and all that

Pot-Bellied Piss-Suckers,

Found myself in The Front Bar at The Local a little earlier than usual for a Friday afternoon after word had filtered through on the bush telegraph that MJ Clarke was in in Wellington.
There was no one there, apart from The Philospher in The Corner who, as is his wont, said nothing, as he sipped his favoured drink of the day, this time a brandy & dry.
Pup was watching his off stump very closely and letting a lot of rubbish go while jamming down on the odd ball that may or may not have got him out LBW early.
Not hard to pick which ones to hit.
Soon enough, a few Big Bloody Brown Brothers, who know their cricket let me tell you, began filtering in from the myriad building and construction sites in the district in their flouro vests and work boots and gaiters.
One commented when Pup had totted up 17 runs in 90 minutes "jeeze, he's going cautious, isn't he, eh bru? But I spoose you'd expict that from someone who's just lost his handbag. Spoose he would have cancelled his credit cards, eh bru?"
Conversation then drifted to the latest model Aston Martin, what's going on this week Up The Cross, and the general ugliness that is The Shire.
No one confessed to knowing anything at all about what's happening in Bondi.
The Philospher remained silent.
After Pup had begun to loosen up the shoulders, wriggle his fingers into his gloves, and fidget constantly and endlessly, and began to smote the ball as if it was some kind of football or something else entirely that was there on purpose for him to take out his frustrations on and posted his fifty, the bar rapidly filled up.
The Brown Brothers lamented long and loud about the pop gun nature of the New Zealand attack, as Pup began to stretch out the Rudolf Nureyev footwork with some trade-mark off cuts.
Ping! At the boundary inside five seconds as the fielder flailed a bit and gave it up.
A few lovely cover drives, as usual.
There's no one else in the modern game who can find the meat of the bat so sweetly as MJ Clarke, NSW, when he's got the time to concentrate on locating it, in a test match.
And then of course, his deft leg side play for one's and two's left the Brown Brothers seriously questioning Vettori's captaincy capacity in the field.
"he might be a nice guy in spuctacools, but......"
Still, The Philospher said nothing.
The Publican could see what was going on out of the corner of his eye, and brought on the happy hour for jugs of Carlton Draught half an hour early.
Bless.
Suddenly, dozens of middies were being poured all round.
There was a slight heart flutter when Pup fished at one way above his, and the keeper's, head before it sailed away to the long stop boundary, but it was by then clear that Pup wasn't hanging around until tomorrow to post his century.
The Deputy Dawg did a good impression of trying to run out the Concept of North, who was spreadeagled at the other end of the pitch, as the main man went through for the single to bring up the three figures.
After the ripple of applause around The Front Bar had faded, the Philosopher got up from his chair and said:
"Good knock, that. Best since Bangalore", before he breasted the bar and ordered a double.

some kind of demented banshee

Sideline experts,

Don't often find myself a hootin' and a hollerin' like some kind of demented banshee while swinging from the clothesline in the backyard of a Monday night, as the spooky MMM radio call of the rugby league blared out from Dad's Shed to the point where all the dogs in the neighbourhood, including mine, went right off.
But, hey, it was the start of the new football season, and Lote Tuquiri had just passed the money ball to That Pom Ellis to score the match winning try.
Apart from losing the Ashes, there is nothing worse in world sport than losing to Manly.
[We could go back to my narrow escape from a savage bashing at the hands of wild-eyed Manly fans by jumping on a Palm Beach bus after the Great Steve "Blocker" Roach had been sent off at Brookvale Oval in '90, couldn't we? Perhaps not].
This year represents without doubt the Mighty Tiges best chance of a tilt at the JJ Giltinan Shield since the Miracle of '05.
SuperCoach Sheens has been doing some very, very astute work in the off season, with a finite cheque book and an open mind.
The first, and easiest thing to do was prune the dead wood, and he didn't hold back with the snippers.
Hiring Steve Folkes, a SuperCoach in his own right having won the '04 Grand Final with Canterbury-Bankstown, as the strength and conditioning coach was a brilliant move, as it allows SC Sheens a lot more time to think outside the box, and spend less time on the training paddock
Finally allowing The Great Skando to retire ["please boss, I'm sick of being bashed up by 120kg 19 year olds"] and install him as the forwards coach gives St. Tim even more time to concentrate on the big picture, as he's always been a bad worrier about how the forwards are going; on the principle of if the forwards are doing alright, then the backs should be able to look after themselves, which only goes to show why the Tigers don't have a designated backs coach.
Royce Simmons has been on the coaching staff for a long time now, being there back in '05, but no one has ever been quite certain as to what he actually does for a living; he always seems to have had the role of Special Minister of State.
The beauty of Royce is that you can rely on him to sort any kind of problem if you ask him to put his mind to it.
To bring a dual international of the likes of Lote Tuquiri on board dirt cheap when he had been all but abandoned by everyone else was a marketing masterstroke and not a bad option in football terms.
SC Sheens made it very clear from the outset that he had signed Lote simply as a second-string back-up winger, who might trouble the soon-to-be-fit-again Taniela "The Human Wrecking Ball" Tuiaki for his spot in the 13.
Everything from there is a bonus.
But, as SC Sheens said on interview after the game [always the master of understatement] it "wasn't a bad effort" that Tuquiri scored a try off his own bat with his very first touch of the ball after seven and a half years away from the league caper, and then set up the last try of the match with his final touch of the ball.
[By the way, what was it exactly that Tuquiri is meant to have done to upset the rah rah boys so badly that they tore up his ARU contract and marked his dance card "never to play for Australia again"?
With the issue sorted by the lawyers out of court, it's never been revealed/leaked. One of the most tightly held secrets in Australian sport.]
To coax Fulton and Cayless back from the dark satantic mills of northern England on the promise of a cut lunch and a couple of schooners before the game and a brown paper envelope stuffed with a few hundred dollar bills after full time each week was sensible thinking.
Fulton is a very serviceable utility and adds plenty of flexibility to the side, while Cayless is one of the better bench players going around, who you'd bring on after the traditional softening up period to continue doing the hard yards.
And there are apparently a couple of junior South Sea Islander forwards hanging about in shadows waiting for a chance at the top grade, who are the size of industrial refrigerators.
If you believe the bio-metric performance boffins, Benji Marshall should be at the peak of his powers this year; no longer a raw kiddie and a sound football brain to go with the trademark jink and step.
Let's just hope his damaged shoulders hold out and he remembers to get his Mum to polish his goal kicking boots.
And as always, it's quite handy to have the Best Leb in The Game running the show at the play-the-ball.
Plenty to love on paper, in theory, but we shall see.
Actually, the week before the season starts is always the best week of the season, as hope springs eternal.

WESTS TIGERS 26. Tries: Tuqiri, Ayshford, Fulton, Lawrence, Ellis. Goals: Marshall (3).
MANLY-WARRINGAH SEA EAGLES 22. Tries: Robertson, Stewart, Rose. Goals: Lyon (5).
At Sydney Football Stadium.
Crowd: 18,421.