much honour bestowed

Trick Cyclists,

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

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


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

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

Dear Sir,

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

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

Yours sincerely,

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

a deplorable state of affairs

Fellow Flabbergastee's,

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

give him some slack

Forever Hopefuls,

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

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

in the back woods of rugby league

Eternal optimists,

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

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

"pale and despondent"

Brave Beserkers,

Blundered into The Front Bar at The Local on the morning of what should have been the last day of the Test Match in that well known hell-hole, Hyderabad, just to check the word on the street.
Found The Philosopher in his usual corner, perusing his tabloid copy of the Sydney Morning Herald - sans the racing form which had been cast aside in a desultory fashion - nursing this week's tipple - seems he's gone back to the Harvey Wallbanger as first drink of the day.
As he glanced at me above the rim of his glasses, he was surprisingly upbeat, actually smiled, and said "She'll be right, Crazy. Don't panic. Carry on regardless".
The obvious reply was "well, you don't mind a drink in a crisis, do you?" and thought about taking him to task, given that we are looking at a looming disaster here, over his apparent glossing over of the whole sorry business, until he said "it's only a game", and resumed his usual silent sardonic visage.
Managed to feebly mumble something like "yeah, but, 2-0 down in a four match series says to me you can't win it; it's all dead rubber from here" and with no reply, resigned myself to asking the barmaid to fix him another drink.
The Brown Bros were ambivalent about it - they've been to India too, after all - and weren't much concerned about playing Engerland at home, hoping against hope that their beloved Bluck Cups might make a good account of themselves.
A few Indians have started coming into the pub of late as the local population thickens up with them, but they strictly keep to themselves in the smoking lounge, and they are sensible enough not to gloat.
That would just be asking for trouble.
Under the circumstances, after the Madras Massacre and the Hyderabad Hideousness, there's little wonder MJ Clarke was described in the fish wraps as looking "pale and despondent" at the press conference following the second test.
You could see it on his face when he was out for 91, and declared the innings closed one run later at nine wickets down in a fit of pique.
Only to cop a gigantic tusk up the runter, Indian-style, for his trouble, through no fault of his own.
That tends to hurt, and the sub-continentals weren't subtle about it, at an innings and then some.
You can call up all the numbers you like, but seem to remember Jason Krezja was dropped for conceding more than 200 in a full match, so little wonder Lyon Nathan suffered the same fate after going for 215 in a single innings in Madras, and yet St. Xavier and Maxwell Smart, as a bowling unit, got collectively carted for 258 in a single innings in Hyderabad.
It sort of, kind of, tells you why Straya has gone through more than a dozen spinners since the Great Warney gave the game away, most of whom have consigned their Baggy Green's to glass display cases behind the bar in the rumpus room at home.
The general public were worried about the fundamentally wrong nature of the touring party from the off, and who can blame them?
Just for instance, what on earth is Mitch "Joke" Johnno doing on tour?
The bloke is all washed up, as the mentally-unstable highly-erractic individual that he is should have been years ago, and isn't within a bull's roar of playing another Test Match, and by all reports, is really crap at carrying a tray of gin and tonics.
So, why?
Never mind the batting.
FIGJAM? [who by the way, hasn't made 30 in 17 of his past 24 Test innings, and can't bowl no more].
The Hughes Kiddie?
The Suburban Boy and Mr Ed?
All over the shop like mad women's breakfasts.
And Wade reckons he's an all-rounder.
They've obviously got too many people - bookmakers, multiple coaches, discredited "sports scientists", disgraced snake oil merchants, lurkers and general hangers on - in their ear all the time telling them what they are doing wrong.
The reality is they should just stop listening, and get on with it, as they see fit.
After all, they're the ones charged with doing the job, and they see what they are dealing with over and over again with frightening immediacy from the box seat every time they go out there.
And that will be especially important, as Blake once said, in the upcoming sojourn to the strangely deceptive Green and Pleasant Land.
Pup finds himself in a bind given that he is a tour selector by tradition and defintion being the Strayan Captain, but as soon as he gets home, he should sack himself as a selector and get right away from that tawdry business.
He should declare that he has no interest in and will play no part in picking the touring party for Engerland, leaving it up to The Chairman and the Three Wise Men, who, shockingly, are no less muddled-headed than the mob of sacked faceless hopeless jokes that they replaced.
That way the leader of men can say "that's OK, I'll just skipper the 12 that you give me" in any game that's on the program.
And, he can then rightly claim, if it all goes to crap and down the gurgler, he can't be blamed.
By way of a sidebar, you'd have to be fairly certain that MJ Clarke has never taken any mind-altering or performance-enhancing drugs at any point in all his born days.
Not even in the pre-Bingle era, when he had a Ferrari, spent his money on fine clothes and expensive restaurant meals, while drinking from the top shelf and pashing every girl in town.
No, never.
Might have had a joint in his teens, but, obviously didn't inhale.
He'd flaty deny that he once enjoyed the odd brekky cone or two in his yoof, for want of hard evidence.
But let's face it, when it's all said and done, most blokes find Test Cricket is not an easy thing to do over the five days, no sireee, without a little help here and there from the drugs cabinet tucked in behind the first aid kit.
It has always been said from the very outset that it is humanly impossible to complete the Tour de France without some snakey substances on board; in the early days, the riders took absinthe in the morning to concentrate the mind, and cocaine in the afternoon to keep them going.
It was all considered completely normal, par for the course, common knowledge, nods and winks abounded, not a word needed to be spoken, and jiggidy-jig, Bob's your uncle.
Same as it ever was.

fine role models, both

Social drinkers,

Never mind drug scandals and performance enhancing snakey substances, the Swans continue to do it the ol' fashioned way -- get on the drink.
The Great Goodesy and some uncapped rookie named Jedd Lamb [who would've been asked for his ID by the look of him] snapped here at the Light Brigade Hotel to launch this weekend's Paddo Pub Festival for the Goodes-O'Loughlin [GO]Foundation.
Fine role models, both.
Too bad that the bar staff are tastefully attired, and the chap on the left of frame could be wearing an evil GWS Giants cap.
Those young blokes out in the armpit of Sydney would be up to their eyeballs in peptides, no doubt.