remind me, what's it like to lose at home?

Bleacherites,

After sneaking into the ground on a spare Member's ticket [nice one, Trev], found myself perched on the edge of my seat, hanging over the guardrail in front of the chairs reserved for cripples on the top deck of the Brewongle Stand at the denoument, with all ten nervous fingers firmly stuffed in my gob, watching as the pill flitted and skipped into the Swans forward line.
Odd Head was the loose man in front of an open goal square as the Adelaide defence struggled to get back.
All McVeigh needed to do was arrest the progress of the ball, pivot, drop it onto the boot, and kick the match winning six-pointer.
Only problem was, just when he got the thing in his hands, the full time siren sounded.
The clock was stopped at 30m59s.
Not a second less, not a second more.
Joisus.
Heads in hands as far as the eye could see.
Done in by the Official Time Keeper, after being robbed blind by the umpires.
Swans appeared to be constantly pinged for every technical infringement in the book, while the opposition were allowed to get away scot free with blatant holding the ball, dropping the ball, illegally disposing the ball, not to mention the incessant holding the man in the ruck contest and when the ball landed at full forward.
Another very tawdry display from the Bamfords.
But, hey, what do expect?
Apparently this round was the Be Kind to Umpires Round as the culmination of the AFL's Bamford's Appreciation Week.
According to the official account, the officials wanted some feedback from supporters on how they do their job, so we gave them some, don't you worry about that.
The appeal to not call officialdom by nasty names fell on deaf ears.
Purple patch over.
Sydney appeared to be all at sea in the opening term; no structure in the mid field, defence floundering, and certainly no attack.
The classic 'slow start' for which they have become rightly famous.
Got the mojo working in the second, poking the ball forward on every possible occasion while wrong footing the Crows defence, to get back on level terms more or less at the long break.
Relaxed and comfortable with that.
The half time smoking lounge is the same as it was last year, out on a closed off Driver Ave, and you need a passout to get there.
Until this innovation, it's was a long long time ago since passouts were issued at the SCG.
It's wrong that the politically correct rules and regulations say you can't take your drink out with you to sip while you have a smoke on the street.
Why?
But no one was arguing with the 6'3" 140kg Samoan bouncer at the gate.
There is though the compensation, that once the couple of thousand chuggers have been banished outside, they disperse over a quite wide out-door area completely unpoliced, so it's eminently possible to thoroughly enjoy a "funny cigarette" under the Port Jackson fig trees with complete impunity.
We weren't alone.
Swans won the Championship Quarter convincingly, as they needed to do to take the lead, but were then blindsided in the final stanza after the Crows had scored a couple of quick soft goals, when the Goodes Train - who up to that point was Best on Ground by the length of the street - did himself a mischief and immediately retired himself to the bench, put on his favourite dressing gown, and called for his dog to fetch his pipe & slippers, and spent the rest of the proceedings as a spectator.
The match was won and lost there and then.
[As it turns out, Goodesy will be out buggered for up to six weeks because of it. A fair blow to the season.]
A striking feature of play was that the Swans were outplayed in the air all night, out marked, pure and simple.
Not that the Crows are that much taller, they were just better at it on the day, and it gave them superior control of the ball.
If they had utilised it well, they could have won by a very wide margin, but they didn't.
Their Walker Kiddie also has the longest kick on him seen on the ground in many a year - set shot goals from 65 metres out are a snap for him.
Also, have you noticed - and you only really can if you are at the match - how the handball has evolved into more of a rugby league pass [with no offside rule involved], in recent times?
The ball is heaved with both hands in a curving motion and the fist at the finish of the movement has little or no impact on the flight of the ball, and is only there to keep up pretences.
Back the day, most of the so-called handballs in the modern game would've been called throws.
The Jetta Kiddie had a mighty game; can comprehensively out-run anyone in the caper, they are feeding him properly so he's bulked up with the necessary upper body strength, and after two years of practice, can kick straight.
He's going places, big time.
JP Kennedy hasn't played a bad game all year, and while Bolts and Rhino did some good things, the bulk of the side did just enough, but there were also a few passengers for the first time this year who shall remain nameless.
They know who they are.
Not a big fan of the 7.40pm start.
Call me a weak invalid if you like, but even after haggling for a cab at Central, didn't get home until after midnight, which is not so good when you are old, tired, and emotional, and if you are a Country Member, like me Trev mate, after getting down to the park'n'ride depot on Liverpool St and driving directly back to Newcastle on the freeway, don't expect to get in through your front door before 1.30am.
Too late.
By the end of the game, the sole [yes, that's it, the only] creakingly slow disabled lift in the entire Brewongle Stand had ground to an almost complete halt, with more than a hundred cripples in various states of affliction waiting in line to get on board the bastard thing for the ridiculous ride down.
They would've been there all night by the looks, so was forced to stumble down six flights of stairs to the concourse level and exit, using my walking stick to fend off various unhinged buffoons.
Then waited in line for about 40 minutes for the event bus to Central.
But that wasn't the worst of it by any means.
Oh, no siree.
The random bus I had the extreme misfortune to get on filled up with hideous Adelaide fans, most of them awful middle-aged women in full regalia who had clearly been deranged by the drink.
Despite my telling them several times to "oh look, just 'shoosh' up, will you?" they paid no attention to me whatsoever and, probably for the first time on a Government bus in Sydney, insisted on loudly singing the Crows club song all the way through Surry Hills.
Some dreadful doggerel about being "the pride of South Australia" or some such nonsense.
Remind me.
What's it like to lose at home?
It's just appalling.

SYDNEY: 1.2, 7.6, 12.7, 14.10 (94). Goals: Goodes 5, O'Keefe 3, Jack 2, Jetta 2, Kennedy, Bolton.
ADELAIDE: 5.2, 8.3, 11.6, 15.9 (99). Goals: Walker 5, Petrenko 3, Callinan 3, Jaensch 2, Tippett, McKernan.
At Sydney Cricket Ground.
Crowd: 23,969.

With the Tigers playing on the Gold Coast simultaneously as the Swans match, didn't see a frame of it, of course, not even on the newsreels.
But by the look of the scorebox, the Tigers have well and truly taken over the "Cardiac Kids" mantle from the Swans this year.
Three of their four wins this season have come by one-point margins, and they've also lost one by a bloody point!
Fancy that.
Had no spy at the ground up there, so the radio score updates were coming in on the crystal set surgically implanted in Trev's ear.
He reckons The Best Leb in the Game had a blinder by all reports.
Farah conjoured up a first half try out of thin air, made a charge down late in the game and attracted the penalty, with the resultant penalty goal leveling the scores at 14-14, and he then calmly slotted the field goal in a beautiful set-play inside the first couple of minutes of extra time for the win.
Well done.
But, of course, it will be situation normal next week, when Farah is overlooked by the NSW selectors.
For some completely unknown reason, ever since the late 80's and early 90's when Balmain supplied most of the NSW side, they have been shunned for representative honours, with hardly anyone playing in a black and gold strip getting a guernsey, not even in the '05 Miracle Year.
Unfathomable.
Inexplicable.
In his capacity as Captain, Farah didn't even turn up to the post match press conference, substituting Vice-Captain Benji instead, who said the skipper was heartily sick of all this talk about the Blues.
When pursued by the press into the car park being pestered about if he had anything to say at all, Robbie replied "Nah, mate".
At least the blowies got their quote.
And didn't Wests desperately need the win to go four and five?
SC Sheens would be more than happy to mark that one down in the "we'll take our wins" column in the Coach's Ledger, and take the week off.
Everyone will enjoy the traditional BBQ round at Robbie's place this week on the first bye weekend, when you get two premiership points in the dilly bag for doing nothing at all.
No doubt they'll ask the much loved [now retired due to cruel injury] Daniela Tuiaki to come on over and roast the whole pig - how they like it "islands' style".
He's reportedly very very good at it.
Goes well with beer, too.
Choice, eh bru?

GOLD COAST TITANS 14. Tries: Gordon, Mead. Goals: Sezer (3).
WESTS TIGERS 15. Tries: Ayshford, Farah. Goals: Marshall (3). Field Goals: Farah (1).
At Gold Coast Football Stadium.
Crowd: 14,254.

how bizzare, how bizzare

Fellow Perplexees,

If anyone, after all these years, knows the value of winning the Championship Quarter, it's the Goodes Train.
After being buttoned down tightly in the first half, Adam decided at the long break to throw off the shackles and show them what he is made of and then went on to have a second half blinder, that inspired the rest of the team, pure and simple.
It's remarkable at his age how he uses his skill and agility to pull through and beyond the half a yard or so he's lost over the years.
He can still tackle a bloke half his age and twice his size and grind him into the dust.
A bit slower than he used to be, but who can blame him, and boy, can run, can mark, can kick goals.
What more do you want?
The bloke could go on and on until they put him into a zimmer frame.
A masterful game plan, after Mr Ed re-jigged the field placings at half time to accomodate for it.
Like putting two tags on Buddy and The Roughead [who doesn't need a nick name].
Once that was done, the Swans ran riot in the mid-field and never looked like losing.
Surely it's time to recognise The Talking Horse as a first class Rules coach in his own right, with Horse finally stepping out of the long shadow cast by SC Roos.
It's very rare to keep the other side to 0.0 in the Champo.
Almost unheard of.
Can happen when the opposition is being hammered and have no posession of the ball at all and defence can look after itself, but, really, only once in a blue moon.
No doubt the stats guru will come up with the answer to when was the last time, but has so far been asleep at the wheel this week; must've overdosed on numbers and that absynth he drtinks.
Rick Shaw never featured once in the television coverage as his sole job on the day was to close down and sit on Cyril Rioli, which he did very effectively by all reports, even though those gazing at the crystal bucket never saw it.
Viewers were complaining about the dumb directors and how much was missed on the telly.
Don't get me started on the amount of advertising shown to pay for the thing!
It was only a matter of time until the flood gates opened in the Final Stanza and the Fat Lady sang.
The early, early season Purple Patch is now in the dilly bag.
The last five in a row from the off goes back 14 years?
And Goodes put the fruit on the sideboard with the goal to seal the match once and for all with about five minutes left.
Spectacular.
The Train was admitted to the Swans Pantheon a long time ago, after picking up not one, but two, Chas Brownlows; playing 300 came much later to get AFL Life Membership sewed up, and, like the bloke he beat for most games, the Great Mickey O, one of only a handful of footballers universally loved on field, despite being the Umpire's Pet, and off field for being a man of good integrity.
Never a bad word spoken of him.
Count myself well among his legion of adoring fans, standing back and admiring how he's managed a life lived grand, without any great fanfare, and certainly with no fuss.
They should chisel his head & shoulders into a block of Sydney sandstone and install the bust on a marble plinth overlooking the turnstiles at the Members Gate at the SCG.
The blackfella overseeing proceedings and having a good look at everyone who comes in.
That'd be a turn up for the books, but Basil Sellars might like it.
That way everyone would have to doff their caps and give The Train the nod, in perpetuity.


HAWTHORN: 5.3, 8.6, 8.6, 10.9 (69). Roughead 5, Hale 2, Lewis 2, Rioli.
SYDNEY: 2.2, 5.4, 9.7, 16.10 (106). Goodes 3, Kennedy 3, O'Keefe 2, Bird 2, Bolton 2, Hannebury, Jack, Jetta, McVeigh.
At York Park, Launceston.
Crowd: 19,217.



SC Sheens would have stalked around the rooms at the end of the match looking at people with those disturbing eyes of his, but not saying a word, and then would have left to walk across the carpark to his car for the drive home, with his mouth firmly zipped and the team snubbed by the Super Coach.
No ranting, no raving, no carrying on like a pork chop, which is what the players would have wanted - no, just silence - an ominous warning that they were in for a thrashing on the training paddock on Monday morning.
The press managed to catch up with SC Sheens just before he got into his car and he had only one thing to say on interview: "It was just rubbish".
How on earth did Balmain let in five, yes, that's right, you count 'em, five soft tries in the last 15 minutes of the game after leading 19-0 nil at half time and 31-0 nil soon after the resumption, and go on to win the match 31-30??
Unfathomable.
A couple of consolation tries to the opposition in the denoument would have been acceptable, but five?
No doubt the worst, most inexplicable, defensive lapse in many a year.
How bizzare, how bizzare.
Just lucky that The Great Benji subscribes to the SC Sheens mantra that field goals are "easier to get early than they are to get late", potting a pearler over the black dot on the stroke of half time, and also had the presence of mind to take an easy penalty goal in the first half to compensate for the earlier conversion he missed.
In hindsight it was as if he saw it coming, which of course, he didn't.
But still, Marshall has a very good football brain, and is thinking about the scoreboard all the time.
My spy at the ground telegraphed at the finish "you can never be too far in front, and it's never too early to boot a field goal".
The performance of Aaron Woods in the pack was noted by the purists.
Young fella who is only in the first grade team now on account of the long term injury to That Pom Ellis.
He's good.
Tough, and takes no prisoners.
Tackling work is impeccable, has a step and a run over about five to ten yards, and can be drilled into executing the crucial offload in the set play.
Will go places.
Man of the Match without question.
For a man of few words, SC Sheens called an extraordinary press conference mid-week last week to only say that if the NSW selectors didn't pick Robbie "The Best Leb In The Game" Farah at hooker for the first State of Origin match then they'd have "rocks in their heads".
You'd think that'd have some clout coming from the current Strayan Kangaroos coach.
The Super Coach is super loyal to his players and demands their loyalty in return.
They know who's boss, and they like it that way.
And they'll expect no mercy mid-week.
There was a very good crowd in for a team that's running stone motherless last, but then again, there was a fair bit of black & gold in the stands and let's face it, Tigers supporters are everywhere, and we do travel.
Went down to the Enfield produce store on Tuesday morning to pick up 20kg of chook feed.
A small swarthy bloke in there knows me as a Balmain supporter [he's one himself] and came up to said to me "jeez, mate, Tigers had a massive win on Sunday, eh?".
After some head shaking, he continued "but, two premiership points is two premiership points, and we'll take 'em".
Shrugged my shoulders.
Enough said.


PARRAMATTA EELS 30. Tries: C.Blair, Hayne, M.Ryan, Sio, Tonga. Goals: Burt (5).
WESTS TIGERS 31. Tries: Murdoch-Masila (2), Fulton, Lawrence, B.Ryan. Goals: Marshall (4), Moltzen (1). Field Goals: Marshall (1).
At Parramatta Stadium.
Crowd: 19,654.

Pup In Paradise

Canine Fanciers,

MJ Clarke obviously finds the Caribbean to his liking.
And who can blame him?
Nice weather, no shortage of coconut palm trees, sandy beaches, beautiful women everywhere, rum cocktails aplenty, and foot long scoobs personally hand rolled by the many direct decendants of Bob Marley.
Then there's the gumbo.
Capped off a marvelous tour with a Michelle Pfieffer in the 4th innings of the 3rd test to win the match single-handedly, not to mention a couple of very smart catches.
He would have had that far away look in his eyes as he surveyed Windsor Park on coming onto the ground on the last day thinking to himself "if no one else can do it, I'll bowl this mob out meself".
Looks like he has made a miracle recovery from his chronic case of Shagger's Back, chiming in with 23 overs, after he'd hardly bowled all tour, one or two overs here and there to get a change of end happening.
Nothing wrong with a batting captain fancying his own bowling when the conditions are just perfect for his left arm wobbly dibbly dobblers.
A shame, as with all Day Five's, there was no one there to see it.
The 188 tour aggregate won't hurt his test average that much, but the niggardly would say he could have converted one or maybe two more digs into sizeable scores.
However, big time credit is due for taking a massive punt on an inspirational sporting declaration at Kensington Oval, 45 runs behind, and backing his players to go on with the job, for a most unlikely victory.
Magnificent.
Gold Star.
What's not to like about any of the above?
Even though the vast majority of the Australian population would have been looking the other way, 2-0 sees Pup unbeaten as skipper in test series', which was certainly noted by those who still care about the long form, even though most were fast asleep at the time, like me, and didn't witness a single frame live.
Always a case of read all about it in the morning fishwraps, and have a look at the scorebox.
Is it too early for the general public to give the bloke the long overdue bloody respect he deserves for being the first class captain he's rapidly becoming?
Or is that too much to ask?
Can't fathom the attitude
Just don't know.
Perhaps it's because showing respect is beyond most people, as they are afflicted with the Tall Poppy Syndrome.
If Pup can get any longevity going despite his chronic injuries, could end up as one of the all-time greats in the Pantheon of Strayan Captains, for mine.
But, then again, would say that.

art v footy

Loyalists,

Eschewed the footy on Sundee arvo for a bit of your modern art.
Spent the day doing the MCA after its squillion dollar rebuild.
It's not really finished, but some nice work there, and the view from the roof top sculpture garden is possibly the best of all in Sydney Cove; Bridge and Hoos in interesting prospect to the left and front and central.
A billion bucks for that look.
Couldn't help thinking the people who used to work in the Martime Services Dept HQ, as it was back in the day, knew what they were looking at.
As is always the case with any art museum; some startling, surprising and spectacular efforts, surrounded by a lot of mediocre and a fair bit of utter rubbish.
Pretty much like a game of football, really.
And it seems to me that most artists, much like many footballers, have too much time on their hands during the week and then find themseleves short of their best.
The Youngest daughter deputised for me and was my spy at the ground after buying first class tickets twelve or so rows back from the fence adacent to the wing with a fine view of the centre bounce for $30 on the student concession.
She suggested "All Played Well" would have been a good entry in the "Best" line in the score box in the Monday morning fishwraps.
Pressed, she found it hard to single out BOG, but said the Child Parker would have gone close to the three Brownlow points, liked the efforts of The White Boy and Spida Jnr just for instance, and said Malceski kept putting his bearded chin out and Oddhead McVeigh was valuable in the scrimmage for the ball on the ground.
JP Kennedy, once again, got a mention.
Best of all, The Jetta Kiddie kicked three miraculous goals that all turned on a sixpence, by all acounts.
Mr Ed was well pleased, they say.
And, there were no passengers
And, no-one missed The Train.
If they did North in by seven goals, they would have really murdered them if Goodesy was playing.
There was some puzzlement about the 3.15pm start time.
What's the use of playing the first half in fading daylight and the second half at effectively at night under lights?
Can't see the point.
Maybe, as has been suggested, it gave the basket weavers from the Eastern Suburbs the time to have a good Sunday lunch with some bottles of Chardonnay before going to the ground.
It works well for the telly, but can't see any other reason for it.
The Swans know where their Members live, and they wouldn't go as far as Blacktown on their holidays.
The Stats Guru has come up with this one.
It's the first time in 14 years years since the Swans went four and zero at the start of a season, and in 1998 they finished 3rd at the end of the regular season.
Not a bad portent.
And lets face it, they are only one win away from a very early, early season purple patch.
And that in a rather tricky away game against Hawthorn in Launceston.
Tune up the banjo.

SYDNEY: 5.5, 9.7, 14.9, 17.11 (113). Goals: Everitt 3, McGlynn 3, Jetta 3, Bolton 2, Malceski, Kennedy, O'Keefe, White, Armstrong, Rohan.
NORTH MELBOURNE: 1.3, 6.7, 7.11, 10.17 (77). Goals: Macmillan 2, Thomas 2, Campbell 2, Wells, Cunnington, Harvey, Petrie.
At Sydney Cricket Ground.
Crowd: 21,049.

[Aside: Didn't see a frame of it, but the Pygmies reportedly improved somewhat on previous showings.
In the meantime, got to thinking, that as a point of difference and to appeal to a large sector of the district's population, the Pygs Marketing Dept should declare the club 100% halal.
Baby lambs to the ritual slaughter, week in, week out.
Tasty, tasy murder].

WESTS TIGERS: Respresentative weekend. No club games.

the train's ticket clipped

Match Winners,

Mr Ed would of course be well aware of the importance SC Roos used to attach to away wins.
It's as if they are twice the value of home wins, if not on the premiership table, then all in the mind.
The match was never in doubt.
Even though it was a close run thing throughout, the Swans weren't headed at any stage if memory serves me right, and the margin was nothing in the denoument for Sydney fans who don't want to remember how many times they reached for the heart pills last season as they watched the Cardiac Kids go round.
That'll do.
After singing the praises of the Reid Kiddie last week, he did virtually nothing this week, while the Child Parker had a blinder, second week back from a broken jaw.
Go figure?
Not what you'd call the model of consistency, but on the other hand, they don't appear to be carrying any real passengers.
Worrying that they were caned again in The Champo -- but encouraging that they survived, again - that's one thing they need to tidy up when they come up against the really good sides, or they'll be done like a dinner.
JP Kennedy was probably BOG for the 2nd week running, but Beer'Esky Malceski could have headed him.
Steady as she goes.
Interesting to see on the crystal bucket every second bank of seats in the pockets at Footy Park covered in huge advertising tarpaulins, on account of they never expect too many in for a Port game, given that Port supporters are considered to be pariahs, if not lepers, in polite Adelaide society.
Still, they did a lot better than the GWS Pygmies, who on a fine and sunny afternoon at the Blacktown International Sports Park [which in reality is nothing more than a glorified suburban oval in the armpit of Western Sydney - during the cricket season, in a Sri Lanka v NSW tour match there, play was briefly halted as the ground staff shooed a black snake off the playing arena] couldn't attract more than 6,867 paying punters through the turnstiles.
The Stats Guru says he can only remember one worse AFL crowd in Sydney.
Oh dear.
It was was in the dark days; 1994-R16 when Brisbane 135 beat Sydney 110 at the SCG.
The official crowd was posted at 5,728.
The Guru was at the ground that day and says even that figure was inflated.
It was a disaster for the caterers, and came at a time when top level AFL in the Emerald City almost disappeared up its own arse.
Everything could well have ended in tears, and it's a miracle the thing came back from the very brink.
Found myself in the kitchen preparing a cheeky Long Island Iced Tea when the Goodes Train slid into a tackle knees first and cleaned up some hapless Port player who was on the ground defenceless.
My spy at the ground pushed a cable through on the bush telegraph suggesting there was nothing malicious in it, but rules is rules, and the Bamford had no choice but to book the Umpire's Pet.
Goodesy tried his best, but couldn't beat the rap down at The Tribunal and was rubbed out for a week.
Had his ticket clipped.
He'll be happy enough to rest those ageing legs for a bit and then spend the rest of season accumulating entirely useless Brownlow votes.
No gong this year to cap off the illustrious career, but he can still have the cigar.
Nothing stopping him.

PORT ADELAIDE: 3.2, 5.6, 9.9, 12.11 (83). Goals: Stewart 3, Schulz 2, Ebert 2, Westhof 2, Surjan, Broadbent, Thomas.
SYDNEY: 5.2, 8.4, 10.6, 16.9 (105). Goals: Jetta 3, Bird 2, White 2, Goodes 2, O'Keefe 2, Bolton, McGlynn, McVeigh Reid, Mumford.
At Football Park, Adelaide.
Crowd: 19,032.


Let's face it, if you can't beat the Chocolate Soldiers then you should just take off your jockstrap, pack up your kitbag, and give the game away.
A clinical win.
Use the Traditional Softening Up Period in the first 20 minutes to good effect, put on a few tries in the back half of the first half, and then realising that you are not looking even remotely like being beaten, shut up shop and play very dour conservative football in the second half.
Pretty bloody boring to watch, to be frank, but premiership points is premierships points, and Lord Crikey they need a few.
At last, the set plays have started working - all the first half tries were from set plays - rugby league players must be rather thick if it takes them seven weeks before they learn the coach's instructions.
Pleasing to see the epitome of the journeyman, Ray Cashmere, play.
He's apparently on loan from the Illawarra Cutters, of all teams.
Since The Goatman last appeared on the Tigers' bench in 2005, Ray's played 50+ games for North Queensland even though he struggled to cut the mustard in first grade, worked in the Wollongong mines for a while, and then turned out for a few seasons in the English league with Salford, before returning at the start of the year to play for a couple of schooners and a cut lunch contract at the Cutters, before SC Sheens found he had no fit forwards to put on the bench, remembered Cashmere in his dreams one night, and got the Club Secretary to give him a call and ask him to play for half a dozen schooners and a roast pork roll with gravy.
The bloke is massive.
Looks about 6'3" and about 115kg to go with it.
A genuine dead-set Astronomical Unit.
And funnily enough, in the limited game time that he had, he can play...and even went so far as to score a try!
While the reserve depth is starting to look a bit thin its pleasing to see blokes like Junior Moors among others stepping up to cover injury.
Another journeyman, Joel Reddy, can play anywhere, while Aaron "Woodsy" Woods has the potential to turn himself into a complete running forward if he works hard.
The Stats Guru came up with a very curious one.
According to the records, ever since Balmain and Western Suburbs merged in 2000, the joint venture has never, not once, put a team out on the park who have kept the opposition scoreless.
Who can doubt him, but surely he's missed one or two??
From the soundtrack on the television telecast, it appears that there is a brass band in residence at Penrith's home ground.
A welcome move, and something that should be encouraged.
Imagine a brass band at every surburban ground that plays throughout the match, resting only for half time.
A good repetoire of marching music would add immeasurably to the atmosphere during dull games.
Most Balmain Boys would've been looking forward to having the week off over the upcoming representative weekend with no club football to be played.
Then the Monday morning team sheets came out.
Of course, Marshall and Blair would have been the first Brown Bros picked to play for New Zealand against Straya in the "Anzac Test Match" in Brisbane.
Then Larwrence, Farah, Woods, and Fulton all get picked in the City side to play Country in Mudgee of all places.
And Groat and Miller are selected to play for the NSW U20's against the QLD U20's.
All but one of those are regular first graders at the Tigers, so that's half the team going around in matches that really aren't of very much consequence.
The games probably don't even attract a match fee, with the players being told the step up to the representative level is a strictly amateur caper, and being picked for such honours is something you don't seek, but it gives you enough kudos that you are expected to play for free.
They'd been lucky if there was a luke-warm pie at full-time in it for them.

PENRITH PANTHERS 0.
WESTS TIGERS 30. Tries: Moltzen (2), Blair, Cashmere, Humble. Goals: Marshall (5).
At Penrith Football Stadium.
Crowd: 15,759.

crisis? what crisis? just ask Ray Cashmere

Optimists,

Picked up the Saturday paper on Saturday morning, as you do.
The headline on the back of the fishwrap screamed at me...OFFICIAL: WESTS TIGERS IN CRISIS.
Tucked the rag under my arm, and wandered across the street from the newsagent to the Front Bar at The Local, to duck my head in on the pretence of finding out who liked what in The Slipper.
The usual suspects were in.
The Lurkers, the Spivs, the Cannabis Merchants, the Touts and various other Shadies all have an opinion - mainly about themselves - but never mind that, they were all going about their usual business.
After last week, the Brown Bros, sensibly, didn't say a word, and just smirked behind their jugs of draught, while whispering in each others ears behind covered mouths.
They're good at that.
The Philosopher was in his usual corner nursing this week's favoured breakfast tipple, a Harvey Wallbanger.
[The barmaid says he insists that they are healthier and more nutritious than a simple voddie & orange].
He saw me coming as he looked up from the form guide, fixed me with his bead as he pushed his glasses back up onto the bridge of his nose, then flung the rest of the sports pages on the floor, shaking his head, saying: "Crisis? What crisis, Craves?"
And this, from a bloke who doesn't mind a drink in a crisis.
When pressed, he had nothing more to add.
Balmain were simply outmuscled by a young, strong, down-to-earth professional football team.
Nothing very clever about it.
It's devilishly difficult in this caper to score points when you have next to no possession throughout.
Tigers were forced to make eight or nine goal line drop outs, so time and time again found themselves putting the ball back into the teeth of the opposition who had good field position.
Never mind the two late consolation tries, when everyone on the field was well buggered.
They didn't play badly, but never looked like winning, which always presents a conundrum.
In a bid to divert attention from the current situation, SC Sheens banged on royally about the injustice of Matty Groat being taken out in a ferocious illegal shirt front with a hint of a leading elbow/forearm.
The offender was penalised and put on report to the faceless Men down at the Match Review Committee, but remained on the ground, while The Groat Kiddie was in La La Land, was assisted from the field by two trainers, played no further part in the game and could miss this week.
The super coach suggested that this was akin to punishing the victim, saying he should be allowed to play a fresh 18th man off the bench in compensation for the foul play, but isn't allowed to under the current rules.
Fair enough, and you'd have to have sympathy with the idea, but frankly, you are either sent off or you aren't, so why further complicate a game already riddled with useless rules.
The Tigers singular problem is that they have been unable to play the same forward pack in all six games to date.
Not once has there been the same personnel up front week in week out.
Dont tell me it's going to be yet another season cruelled by injury?
Ray Cashmere has the answer.
According to the team announcement news sent out to Members mid-week, Cashmere has been named on the Balmain first grade bench -- for the the first time since 2005!
Which begs the question...Ray! Mate! Where have you been and what have you been doing for all these years?
SC Sheens on interview after the game didn't express much concern at all about the current losing streak saying there were quite a few positives to come out of the match.
What they were eludes me just at the present.
The Club Secretary would have no doubt taken a different view and put the abacus out on the desk to calculate the potential losses.
He'd be happy enough with the string of away games coming up, as he doesn't have to sell tickets, and two points guaranteed in the bye, but if they continue to do no good, there's nothing more certain than the crowds and the gate receipts dropping right away, and sponsors questioning value for money.
No one likes a loser, especially in Sydney, and the Super Coach may well find that even he is not immune for calls for his head on a plate if it carries on in this fashion.
As St Tim likes to say - we might be getting ahead of ourselves here - but in the history of the NSWRL dating back to 1908, no team, ever, has been able to win the premiership from a one & five start.
Joisus.
And the last time Balmain beat Brisvegas in Sydney was in the MIracle Year 05.
Another poor portent.
Lets just hope that H.Ford was right and "history is bunk".
Must try harder.

WESTS TIGERS 14. Tries: Fulton, Ayshford, Humble. Goals: Marshall (1).
BRISBANE BRONCOS 18. Tries: Reed (2), Copley. Goals: Parker (2), Wallace (1).
At Sydney Football Stadium
Crowd: 17,556.


The Great Lewis Roberts-Thompson, seven years on from the Miracle Year, was quoted before the match as saying that he was "astonished" when he was told that he would be playing in his 150th game.
The solid workhorse, toughnut, and through and through loyalist never imagined he'd have a very long career in the caper, perpetually plauged by niggling injury as he is.
Also could have something to do with his looks, and the inevitable discrimination that he would no doubt have to suffer on and off the field.
So he's had a mighty time getting as far as he has, and all power to his oars.
Just a pity about the face that not even a mother could love.
The Ugliest Man in Football's parents are probably very attractive people to look at, but somehow some genetic code just went horribly wrong somewhere on the way through to the keeper.
And he had a very good 150th, to boot, neatly setting up what looked like the winning goal early in the final quarter.
This team looks capable of flying under the radar and going places this season, for mine.
The "re-building" of recent years appears to have been completed.
A fine mix of yoof and experience is always a handy thing to have.
Witness The Jetta Kiddie.
He has grown into being a man; he's acquired a lot more bulk and football smarts since last season, so it seems the singular individual brilliance was well worth persisting with.
The New Train?
Reid's marking skills will be worth the price of admission alone all season long, with little birdie's close to the club twittering that he could be The New Plugger.
Both of them could become superstars.
JP Kennedy was best on ground by a long shot, followed by BeerintheEsky Malceski.
The Goodes Train played well enough to pick up another inevitable Brownlow point from the Bamfords.
He is, after all, an Umpires pet.
However, it's not often that a side gets badly caned in the Championship Quarter and still goes on to win.
My spy at the ground telegraphed during The Champo "Oh no. Yet another Swans sleepy session".
But, after the exhibition game against the GWS Pygmies a fortnight ago, it was for the most part, as if it was down to business with intent.
Did like the reports that Mummy was forced to ring up Coach Horse on the morning of the match to say that he had woken up with a bad case of Shagger's Back.
He was told to be more careful, and it opened the door for The Great Seabs, who's not a bad emergency to have in the ruck.
All good.
It must have been an impressive crowd given the weird sight of the MA Noble, Bradman and Dally Messenger Stands being entirely empty as they await the wrecking ball, or perhaps it's a new opportunity for yet more fudging of the numbers at the turnstiles.
You'd be thinking the Pygs would have to be even more creative in that department after the shellacking in Hobart, especially as they go to play at that hellish windswept dustbowl known as Bankstown Sports Park this weekend.
They'll be lucky if a few hundred turn up.

SYDNEY: 4.4, 9.7, 11.9, 14.10 (94). Goals: Reid 3, Jetta 3, Goodes 2, McVeigh, O'Keefe, Rohan, Malceski, Roberts-Thomson, McGlynn.
FREMANTLE: 2.2, 3.3, 9.4, 12.9 (81). Goals: Mayne 4, Crowley 2, Anthony, Sandilands, Pearce, Mzungu, Bradley, Johnson.
At Sydney Cricket Ground.
Crowd: 22,242.

no one to blame but themselves

Those who have also been rendered speechless,

A rather large, short woman fully fitted out in genuine Western Suburbs gear from the eighties when Victa Mowers still had their major sponsorship splashed across the back of the jersey, got on the train home from Central after the game.
She plonked herself down into two seats with a hurrumph, and a couple of tears dropped out of both eyes and rolled down her cheeks.
She didn't bother to wipe them away, and then promptly fell asleep.
Had had enough.
There is nothing worse than having a long way to go home after losing by a bloody point.
Everyone's been there, and it aint no fun.
It was a very puzzling game in a baffling week.
Don't get me started on the decision to purchase the Easts captain, Braith Anasta, on a two-year contract starting 2013.
The bloke is by all accounts a scholar and a gentleman, but with looks only a mother could love...however, why on earth would you buy a 30-year-old five-eighth who's looking for some superannuation to get into rugby league's Sunset Home, when you have a perfectly good, nay superstar, five-eighth already on the books on a long term contract?
So, Anasta might be able to play second row, and might be strong enough to finish his career there, but really?
Beats me.
Lets just hope they haven't paid too much for him.
No idea what possessed me to buy tickets to the game, but the Marketing Dept clearly sucked me in as they offered really cheap tickets to the cheap seats for Members who didn't have one to hand.
Remind me to never again go to a South Sydney game, ever.
How could anyone forget that Rabbitohs fans come from the lower breeds?
You just have to take one look at Russell Crowe.
They are inevitably foul-mouthed on the barrack, when there is really no call to descend into the gutter at the football.
Don't they know that women and children are present?
Then again, the screaming banshee women and their children are just as bad.
They also steadfastly refuse to behave in a quiet and sociable way in the bars.
They are sore losers, and vindictive winners, but to be fair, on the way out of the ground a woman wearing rabbit's ears pushed her pram over the toes on my bad foot - which was only protected by a flimsy sandal - which produced a surprisingly effusive apology.
That's another thing Souths' supporters do, they take babes-in-arms to the football, no doubt to inculcate the yob ethos into them from birth.
The banner hanging from "The Burrow", where the lowest of the low hang out, was plainly offensive.
It was the so-called Heritage Round, so the Tigers wore a replica of the jersey worn by Western Suburbs in their last Grand Final win 60 years ago this year.
The banner read:
"Heritage. We've got ours. You sold yours"
Enough said.
Meantime, back on the field...
The Moltzen Kiddie scoring a try in the first two minutes auguered well.
After Benji almost didn't play after reportedly being plauged with chronic headaches after being all but knocked out in classic clothesline tackle for two weeks running, Souths decided to leave him alone on humanitarian grounds, and instead clearly targeted Moltzen, who was cleaned up heavily in a very late, very high tackle by that well known Souths hooligan Michael Crocker running at full pelt, as the Balmain full-back was completely defenceless as he'd just landed back on his feet after defusing a difficult bomb.
You could hear the sickening thud from where we were sitting in the stands.
It had malicious foul play written all over it and would have been a send off offence back in the day, but attracted no more than a penalty and a report, and the Faceless Men down at the Match Review Committee raised one eyebrow on the Monday morning telling the thug: you can escape a week's rubbing out if you plead guilty and we smack you over the wrist with a wet lettuce leaf.
Lord save us...
The traditional softening up period over the first twenty minutes was a bit like hand-to-hand combat on the Somme, with only a few inches gained here and there by either side.
Don't know that Souths made a single break over the advantage line in the first stanza - the 6-0 half time score tells the story.
The Bamfords also had a fair bit to answer for; constantly blowing really annoying penalties for trivial or technical infringements, when the fundamental off-side rule in the game went completely un-policed.
The players aren't stupid, and both sides took full advantage of being allowed to creep inside the regulation ten metres at every play the ball, as the referees were gazing off to the horizon looking to penalise some obscure infraction of the rules.
The end result was that much of the game just ground into a brutal stalemate.
Where's the spectacle in that?
After getting caned yet again in the penalty count, SC Sheens said on interview that he woud have his "usual head-butting" with the Bamford's boss about it, but you know it won't do you no good Tim, so why bother?
What's done is done.
Second half and all went very very well for a while, but then, why didn't Marshall go for two clear chances at the field goal at two converted tries up, that's 12 points in front, with ten minutes to go, just to put the fruit on the sideboard?
The Super Coach could be seen pulling out what little hair he has left on his bonce, given his mantra about field goals - "it's easier to ge 'em early, than to get 'em late".
Then they winded up, in the denoument, finding that they had no one to blame but themselves when they let in two lame, soft, opposition tries which should have easily been defended, to allow Souths to push the game into extra time.
A dead set coach killer.
Could barely bare to watch the scheduled ten minutes added on.
When the winning Rabbitoh's field goal wobbled its erratic way off the boot towards the goal, brushed both the cross-bar and an upright on it's way through, before falling over for the one point advantage, the chin went into the chest and the hands went to the top of the shaking head.
What should have been a rolled gold opportunity at victory turned into complete disaster in the blink of an eye.
Joisus.
It could well be time for a session in the Room Full of Mirrors down on the Balmain Road after that showing.
One more loss and they'll need a purple patch just to get back on an even keel, and then another one, to have a chance of a shot at the finals.
That's the best part of half a season, with almost a quarter already gorn.
The 24 year old Sydney Football Stadium now has a very lived-in look, and is showing her age [unlike the Olympic Stadium which looks and feels like it was built yesterday].
Never mind that don't do any maintenance on it.
My seat was broken.
It had been unhinged at the back, so whenever you sat too close to the edge of the seat with your hands in your mouth, you risked tipping forward and head butting the bloke in the row in front of you from behind, by accident.
Just leapt to my feet when there was a risk of that happening.
Still, the design means the circulation of people around the joint still works pretty seamlessly, and the latrines and catering were not overly overcrowded.
The beers were mercifully cold, if a touch over-priced, but it was VB, while the pies were thermo-nuclear.
What more do you want?
The smoking lounge out the back of Bay 30 at half-time was quite spectacular.
There were thousands and thousands of chuggers out there creating the tremendous sight of a huge cloud of tobacco smoke that heaved and pulsated in the sea breeze and then ironically drifted up and back into the top deck of the stands, as all the ciggies had been concentrated into the one area.
Chuckled, as the gasping social lepers got the last laugh
They'd even had the decency and sense to install a pop-up bar in the smoking lounge, outside the ground, to keep the addicts happy.
Bless.
There were some interesting scenes down at the Front Bar in The Local on Monday morning, but that can wait...
In the meantime...need a new plan.

WESTS TIGERS 16. Tries: Ayshford, Moltzen, Tuqiri. Goals: Marshall (2).
SOUTH SYDNEY RABBITOHS 17. Tries: Luke (2), Everingham. Goals: Reynolds (2). Field Goals: Inglis (1).
At Sydney Football Stadium.
Crowd: 25,608.

Craves.