just about as close to a perfect season as anyone could imagine

Loyalistsa,

Little wonder the hapless Tigers found themselves out like a shag on a rock on a Thursday night for a game against the Contemptible Bulldogs.
Thursday night, eh?
Brilliant way for the NRL to begin their hastily cobbled together scam aimed at World Domination, by having rugby league matches played five days a week.
But really, it was just plain embarrassing to watch.
To have not one, not two, but three tries put on you inside the first ten minutes of the match - that's not even half way though the Traditional Softening-Up Period - is simply unacceptable.
All concerned knew it.
Their hearts were obviously not in it.
As things stand, they know they are incapable of winning even a rigged chook raffle.
Said it before, say it again - probably said it right here a year ago - it'd be the same form of words: the club is in very serious need of rebuilding.
A couple of young fella's have stepped up well enough to first grade this year by necessity given the nightmarish horror of an injury run this season, and the rest of their junior ranks - by and large farkin' huge South Sea Islanders - is bristling with talent, the potentional of which is as yet unfulfilled.
The main problem is they desperately need more experienced journeymen in the forwards and the backs, but they just don't have any money to buy them, let alone retain their youngsters, with cashed up clubs always sniffing around.
You'd have to imagine Coach Potter would be on shifting sands having seen his team have nigh on 150 points scored against them in the space of just three games.
And that after The Board, under pressure to pull the sack, decided to keep him on for a few weeks to the the end of the year, because they had nowhere else to go.
Poor Harry, he's entitled to say "but, what'd I do wrong, Guv?", but that won't help him, he'll be shown the door at season end, and be shat out the poop shoot without a sausage.
Mad Monday can't come soon enough.
It'll be many many years until they come close to winning the JJ Giltinan Shield again.

CANTERBURY-BANKSTOWN BULLDOGS 30. Tries: Lafai (2), Jackson, Thompson, Ennis. Goals: Hodkinson (5).
WESTS TIGERS 10. Tries: Brooks, Woods. Goals: Paterson (1).
At Olympic Stadium, Homebush.
Crowd: 9,877.


Little wonder you can rest Sam Reid on a whim, when the Buddy-Tipsy Show kick ten goals between them!
Really, they couild have rested the entire first grade side and turned out the seconds and they still would have won.
This is really starting to sound like a broken record, but yet another leasuirely weekend stroll in the park.
The other seven sides in the top eight must be worried sick about how they are going to come close to beating the Swans, who if memory serves and chortling of the Stats Guru is anything to go by, have won 16 of their last 17 games.
If they hadn't inexplicably gone down to the Greater Western Sydney Pygmies in Round One, and 1-3 after the first month of the year, it's just about as close to a perfect season as anyone could imagine.

Just as the season well and truly reaches the pointy end, it seems that this bloggy blog blog is about to fall off the radar, and go into premature abeyance.
That's it as far as commentary goes here.
Will find myself spending the entire month of September in north-western France, where, as far as can be gathered, the local population couldn't give a blue root about The Rules, that's our Rules, not theirs.
People keep asking me "why are you going to miss the entire finals series, Craves?", which is a good question, to which the obvious answer is "they say it's nice over there this time of year".
Little does anyone know that my jet bird will be touching back down at KSA on the morning of Grand Final Day.
Cheer, Cheer, The Red & The White...
Onward to Vic-Tor-Ree!

WESTERN BULLDOGS: 1.2, 5.5, 7.10, 9.13 (67). Stringer 2, Boyd, Cooney, Liberatore, Bontempelli, Hrovat, Johannisen, Griffen.
SYDNEY: 7.3, 11.5, 17.7, 20.10 (130). Goals: Franklin 6, Tippett 4, Lloyd 2, Goodes 2, Malceski 2, Jetta, Towers, Hannebery, Parker.
At Docklands Stadium.
Crowd: 22,430.

a tale of two cities

Mudlarks,

Buddy kicks nine.
Now that's penetration for you.
The Saints didn't have a hope, no way of stopping him going in through the front and back doors whenever he wanted at will.
It was only a matter of time until Franklin did something mad.
Before he came to the Swans, he had a reputation as a big game player, and he delivered in spades in his 200th, and found himself being chaired off the ground after the final siren.
Just getting his act together for September?
You'd have to hope so.
The sandbagging continued when JP Kennedy was subbed off during the 2nd quarter at the slightest hint of a niggle, which the commentators, to their credit, tried to talk up as a full-blown hammy.
They're obviously on the Sydney payroll.
Coach Horse must be confident JP already has the Chas Brownlow in the dilly bag - he could bench him for the rest of the season and he'd still win the thing.
After last week's stroll in the park that is finals time HQ - the MCG - they made light work of an undermanned St Kilda, who just didn't have the strength or height to match them.
Swans threw a few youngsters into the game, as My Spy and The Ground remarked "to shark the pack" to see if they cut the mustard, if they're required at the pointy end.
You'd think they'd go top on that showing, especially with Geelong and Hawthorn playing each other this weekend in a Promoter's Dream.
The late season run is being timed perfectly, and Coach Horse knows a thing or two about orchestrating the games that matter - just look at the genius moves that went into the back end of 2012, and we all know what happened then.
Excellent to see the Ugliest Man in Football given a lap of honour of the SCG to mark his retirement from the caper; he just took the accolades like the dignified man that he is.
Unique in every way, you have to wonder if there ever has been a finer ornament to the game?
Who can ever forget Lewis Roberts-Thompson's exploits in the 2005 Grand Final?
Robbed of the Norm Smith, for mine, what's more to say?
And here's a bloke who "honestly, I never thought I would play AFL football", and after a chequered career dogged by injury, was asked what it was like to reach the 100 game milestone, to which he replied "I am astonished. No one told me that I'd played 99. I had no idea. I'm gobsmacked".
When he did play, there was rarely a player as good as him across the half back line, gangly as hell, all arms & legs, hands everywhere, and could run, yessiree, and had a deceptive amount of height about him so could take those high marking stops at goal, and kick the ball back to the forwards, who's already turned on their heels when they saw who was coming.
And there's been few braver men in the melee, worked the stacks-on-the-mill brilliantly, perhaps the hallmark of his career.
And could kick a goal to boot, if he was asked to.
Gave more to the game and got more out of it than he ever imagined, despite the pain and suffering that took him there and in the end bought the curtain down on an illustrious career.
Vale L-R-T.
You will be sorely missed.

SYDNEY SWANS: 6.3, 8.8, 15.9, 19.13 (127). Goals: Franklin 9, Tippett 3, Cunningham, Malceski, Jetta, Lloyd, McVeigh, Towers, Parker.
ST KILDA: 1.1, 2.4, 5.7, 8.8 (56). Goals: Riewoldt 3, Stanley 2, Gwilt, Armitage, Steven. At Sydney Cricket Ground.
Crowd: 31,361.


The heavy rain set in just before kick off.
The Spiritual Home is uncomfortable at the best of times, but is plain miserable in the wet with next to no cover except under the mighty Port Jackson fig trees that really only convert the precipitation into large bucket like drips that will soak a hat in one hit.
Only foolhardy die-hards would have made the supreme effort of getting to Leichhardt Oval, in the almost certain knowledge that all they'd be going see would be Balmain's season nadir.
Needless to say, didn't find myself among them, never mind me following the team for a quarter of a century, still regarded as a fair-weather fan.
Donned the Driza-Bone in the howling winds and flooding rains of a classic East Coast Low, to trick up the aeriel on the short wave radio, only to find the wireless dominated by a call of some rugby union game between the Wobblies and All Blicks that no one in Dad's Shed cared about.
So, shut down the crystal set, turned off the light and retreated from the severe weather to the house to get in a hot tub, on the grounds that "you can always read about it in the papers" in the morning.
By all accounts, the game itself was by no means pretty.
That'd be more than 100 points scored against the hapless Tigers in the space of just two matches - believe.
Much to his chagrin, the Stats Guru has been burrowing deep into the archive to try to find another instance, and is struggling to come up with one within living memory.
Surely you'd have to call for the mercy rule and just excuse them from the rest of the season, no point turning up fellas, just go on post-season holidays as usual via the Room Full of Mirrors and contemplate your navels.
Nothing for it.
Do not pass go, do not collect two hundred dollars.
The best thing to come out of the whole schemozzle was the long-awaited retirement of Braith Anasta before the game.
The bloke has spent half a season in sick bay, where he remains, and at long last decided that he simply can't go on.
Probably one of the worst buys in club history.
Braith had a stellar career at the Bulldogs and the Roosters, playing more than 250 games, won a Premiership, appeared in four test matches for Australia, and turned out ten times for NSW in State-of-Origin.
Now, that's good, very very good.
But as he reached his twilight years, Easts could see the writing on the wall and could no longer keep him under their salary cap so they sold him on a short-term deal to Balmain, who were fool enough to buy him.
He was the incumbent club captain at the Roosters when they punted him, no less.
Played just 31 games in two years for the Tigers, and did absolutely nothing.
Anasta never did fit into the Balmain culture, no one ever really liked him, and in the end it was a bitterly disappointing, costly denoument to an otherwise glittering career.
But he only had himself to blame.
So sad to see great players - as shadows of their former selves - play well beyond their use by dates, purely for money - Balmain supporters will only ever remember that, not what he did for someone else at the height of playing days.
He came to Leichhardt on a contract that said "I'll play anywhere, except at lock".
Where did he end up playing his last year?
Lock.

WESTS TIGERS 4. Tries: Hitchcox. Goals: Paterson (1).
SYDNEY ROOSTERS 48. Tries: Minichiello (2), Jennings, Moa, Waerea-Hargreaves, Kenny-Dowall, Tupou, Pearce. Goals: Maloney (8).
At Leichhardt Oval.
Crowd: 5,297.

for the sake of completeness

Due to unforseen circumstances, the bloggy blog blog will not appear this week.
Back next week.
The scoreboxes are included for your consideration, and for the sake of completeness.

PORT ADELAIDE: 2.3, 3.7, 5.12, 7.16 (58). Goals: Boak 2, Neade 2, Wingard, Lobbe, Westhoff.
SYDNEY: 2.2, 5.6, 8.9, 12.12 (84). Goals: Cunningham 3, McGlynn 3, Franklin 2, Tippett 2, Rohan.
At Adelaide Oval.
Crowd: 50,087.

NORTH QUEENSLAND COWBOYS 64. Tries: Wright (3), Taumalolo (2), Winterstein (2), Moga (2), Morgan, Sims. Goals: Thurston (8).
WESTS TIGERS 6. Tries: Woods. Goals: Paterson (1).
At Townsville Football Stadium.
Crowd: 12, 317.

sandbagging started before the game even began

Beach lovers,

Been a denizen of the East Coast of the island for nigh on 30 years now, the most part of it in the Emerald City, and cannot remember a worse season for the "August winds", a well-know phenomenon in these parts.
This year they turned up six weeks early, and have been howling on and off ever since.
The biting gale seems more freezing than in years past - bone rattling - as it sweeps in from the south-west over the vast expanses of suburbia affectionately known as "Sydney's armpit", routinely gusting to 70-80kph, after being funneled in off the Great Dividing Range and onto the wide open Cumberland Plains.
Everone's saying they are the worst in living memory, and who's to argue?
Not me.
There's no denying something's going on with the weather.
You can only throw a rug over yr shoulders and pop a tea cosie on yr head, and cup a small glass of brandy to warm in your hands to ward off the shivers.
Why has any of this any relevance to the question at hand, you might ask?
Well, anyone from Melbun, on hearing the winter weather sob story from the Emerald City would say "Perfect weather for football! What are you on about? Hard'en up!"
Certainly, the punters scattered about the stands looked utterly miserable on the telly in their ice-suits and woolly hoodies as they sipped hot drinks and guzzled smuggled booze from their Thermos flasks.
The only thing my Spy at the Ground could offer was a desultory "cheer, cheer".
And all they came to look at was the Swans having another routine, albiet rather brisk, Saturday evening stroll in the park doing just enough to win, never mind that the Bombers put in a good effort in the Champo and came within ten points at some stage, it was never in doubt from the first bounce.
And that, after the sandbagging started before the game even began.
The officials were told an hour and a half before the opening hooter that L.Franklin would not be playing, and T.Membrey would step into the breech in his absence.
It's all by the book as long as you offer a good excuse for a last minute injury; "knee soreness", "general soreness", "complete rootedness" will all do just fine.
So long as the umpires have something to sign on off in the scorebook.
Marvellous.
And there will be a few more with creaking bones who'll take unscheduled "rests" between now and then, mark my words.
The Goodes Train would be a prime candidate.
He knows what September is all about, and it's truly remarkable how he manages on one leg at his age, only a yard or two slower than he used to be, hasn't lost any of all those skills, and can kick goals.
What money to have the Strayan of the Year on your side?
Checked the boards at my bookmaker's the other day and found the Swans posted a clear shoe-in to win the Premiership, and JP Kennedy a very short priced favourite in a field chock full of runners to win the Brownlow Medal.
For the most part unbackable.
The most astonishing thing about the season so far, after their really atrocious start, is that the wheels have never looked like falling off, movie-style.

SYDNEY: 5.3, 7.8, 9.8, 11.13 (79). Goals: Tippett 2, Goodes 2, McGlynn 2, McVeigh, Rohan, Pyke, Kennedy, Reid.
ESSENDON: 1.1, 3.4, 6.6, 8.9 (57). Goals: Ryder 2, Myers, Ambrose, Howlett, Carlisle, Hurley, Heppell.
At Sydney Cricket Ground.
Crowd: 36,804.


What a strange week in Tigertown.
The skipper Robbie Farah on "stress leave" on account of he's "very upset", but what exactly he's upset about has never been clearly explained, except that some buffoon north of the border called Gordon Tallis has been putting words into his mouth.
Tallis, of course, has never played for Balmain and has no right to be meddling in their affairs, so why would you worry about anything the bloke says?
Who cares if he is badmouthing you behind your back?
Especially as the buffoon is well known for untruths and hyperbole.
The Club Secretary says if he's done anything to offend The Best Leb in The Game, then he'd like to talk it over with him and sort it out, without actually articulating what needs to be sorted out.
And then Coach Potter found it necessary to hold a rare Sunday press conference ahead of the Monday game to explain himself, and defend himself against criticism from faceless men who should know better.
Can anyone tell me exactly what's going on here??
With all the palaver of the last fortnight or so, it's easy to lose sight of the fact that there are football matches to be played every week.
So it wasn't surprising that the Westen Suburbs Magies faithful failed to turn up in their droves to Campbelltown "wouldn't go that far on me holidays" Sports Ground.
The blokes on the comedy radio commentary got a tweet asking if the crowd was dead in the fx mics, to which they said "no, it's just that there's no one here".
The match itself went to script, at a predictable 6-12 down at half time, it was only a matter of time until the floodgates opened.
Balmain went in with the early try and it was all down hill from there as they were out-foxed by a team of seasoned professionals on their game.
By all accounts, the Tigers played like they were unsettled.
They're no show like that for September.
It'd be much better if they failed to make the eight at all, rather than get eaten for breakfast in the first week of the finals, and shat out the other end.
Good to see Simon Dwyer was at the ground.
Now there's a bloke who's had shocking luck.
A promising career cut short when he snapped a few tendons off his spinal cord attempting an innocuous tackle in some nothing game, and now has no use at all of his right arm at age 25, three years on.
Seems some influential people in the Injured Players Benevolent Fund noticed that Simon had fallen on hard times, but was reluctant to ask for help.
They didn't owe him anything, but they promptly organised a very large testimonial dinner for him at a ballroom at some 5-star in town and raised more than $300,000.
Then at the ground through sponsorship, donations, raffles etc they raised another $70,000.
At least the poor bastard won't end up sleeping under a bridge that way.
Now there's a club looking after its own...

WESTS TIGERS 6. Tries: Akauola. Goals: Richards: (1).
MELBOURNE STORM 28. Tries: Koroibete (2), C.Smith, Chambers, Waga. Goals: C.Smith (4).
At Campbelltown Sports Ground.
Crowd; 7,782.

a turn up for the books

Eternal Optimists,

Well, there's a turn up for the books.
As My Spy at the Ground remarked "just goes to show Balmain can still win against good sides, and win well".
Never mind that Canterbury simply didn't turn up to play, uncharacteristically out of sorts for a top three side.
Tigers played it simple, because it's a simple game; the forwards went forward and gave the backs room to move at will, but the secret was all of their well worked set plays paid off and resulted in points on the board.
To wit, just before half time from about 15-20 yards out - The Best Leb in The Game worked the ball out of dummy half and it sailed clean across the whole backline, six or seven sets of hands, the ball carriers were jinking and weaving and throwing dummy passes left right and centre, no less than three decoy runners were deployed to confuse the defence and the pill ended up with the winger, running at full pace, on the right touchline, who found himself essentially unmarked, with his opposite number off balance, and cruised through to plant the ball on a hankerchief next to the corner post, then took out the post all arms & legs style as bodies piled up on top of him as he slid into the advertisting hoardings.
Gold.
Show me a better set play this year, from any team.
Said it before, say it again: no finer sight in world sport than running Rugby League.
You could kinda feel a thumping coming on.
Keefy Lulia - now there's a name to conjure with - equalled the joint venture club record for scoring the most the tries in a match.
Only two other blokes have scored four in a game, don't ask me to name them, the Stats Guru knows.
Keefy, eh?
Another one that Coach Harry rescued from the Dark Satantic Mills of English rugby league, and brought him back to Leichhardt.
Lulia knows the caper...busted out of reserve grade purely on sheer form, and sat on the firsts bench for a few games before being named in the run-on side, and thought to himself that given he'd been given the chance, he might as well have his finest hour.
How it used to be done back in the day.
Bravo.
And all this was after a week when Coach Potter was told that there was a high level whisper from the board that if he didn't change his attitude and win on the weekend, then his name and position would become an agenda item at this week's board meeting.
He told 'em to get lost.
It was all kept in house, hush hush, but there is no doubt that the boss came close to getting the tap on the shoulder.
A couple of journo's sniffed the smell of dead meat, but didn't have more than mere speculation to publish on, no one was talking, only a little bird singing.
At least Harry now knows that he's skating on thin ice and who is paying his not inconsiderable salary.
It's very harsh to blame the coach for mine, given the horror injury toll in the first half of the season, a bit of argy bargy in the selection process, and other shit out of his control have all contributed to a fairly ordinary season, thus far.
Still, he'd be well aware where the buck stops.
And there's no easy run home for the Tigers.
Propped my walking stick up againt the front door at the Front Bar at The Local on Monday morning, and with the aid of a typically Sydney wild & wicked westerly gale [known in these parts as "The August Winds". In July? Something's going on] it flew open to reveal the Philosopher in his usual corner leafing through the morning's fishwrap.
The Barmaid had thoughtfully fetched some cubes of cheese and cabanossi on little sticks from the pokie lounge to nibble on as he savoured this week's favoured tipple - a vodka on shaved ice, topped with orange and mango juice out of a two litre bottle that's handily kept under the bar, garnished with a twist of lemon - he calls it an 'Ogo Driver', or just an 'Ogo' for short.
The Philosopher reached for his biro, circled the scorebox on the back of the paper, peered over the rims of his glasses, poked his bony finger at it and said "well, that was a close run thing, eh?"
PS. Don't get me started on The Great Benji Marshall. He'll keep.

WESTS TIGERS 46. Tries: Lulia (4), B.Thompson, Sironen, Brooks, Woods, Gavet. Goals: Moses (2), Richards (3).
CANTERBURY-BANKSTOWN BULLDOGS 18. Tries: Inu, Lafai, C.Thompson. Goals: Hodkinson (3).
At Olympic Stadium, Homebush.
Crowd: 22,225.

No word from Swans HQ in ten days - not a squeak, not an inch of newsprint - as if everthing and everyone has been in lock down, with nothing to do.
Hope they've all got a good book to read.

SYDNEY: Split-round bye.

an ornament to the game

Free Radicals,

Things did not auger well from the off.
Tigers found themselves robbed blind within the first three minutes of the match, when a perfectly good Balmain try was disallowed by a seriously vision-impared Bamford by the name of Shane Hayne [whatever possessed the Hayne's to call their son Shane is anyone's guess].
Shane didn't even consult with his touch judges or refer it upstairs to the TV ump, then moments later allowed a very dodgy Manly try at the other end - just blew the whistle and pointed at the spot - which was duly converted, to gift Manly a 6-0 lead in the blink of an eye.
The Tigers morale was shot then and there.
They knew that not only were they up against a very good side, in front of their highly partisan home crowd at that shitful hole known as Brookvale Oval, but they also had to battle a hostile referee...and to make matters even worse...the Mad Monk, who took up his seat in the stand as the Manly No.1 ticket holder, so they also had a nasty Prime Minister agin 'em; a bloke who hates anyone who lives south, east, west of The Bridge and is determined to rub their noses in it.
The flappy-eared buffoon must have taken much delight in seeing The Fibro's being spanked by the Silvertails first hand, as those who aspire to the cloth, do.
Coach Harry must have been thinking "what is it that I can do?"
That's probably the season nadir.
The abacus out the back of the Secretary's Office says it's not season over just yet, but Balmain has an unusually tough run home.
There has been talk on wires of how some sides have been given soft draws, and are only prominent because of them, but the Tigers certainly aint among them.
That's all well and good, but September usually sorts the men from the boys, and it's rare in the modern era to have lowly ranked teams barge their way through to the Grand Final.
Guessing Staff HQ would be taking a good look at the playing roster with an eye to the future.
There's no shortage of Islander kiddies who can play, in the lower grades, but they don't have much money to buy players in the off season.
The road will be long and the way will be hard.
Mention must be made of the unfortunate retirement of Liam Fulton, after 161 games for Balmain in an injury-wracked career at the age of 29.
The consumate workhorse, a fearsome tackler, explosive out of the ruck over ten metres, try scorer in tight situaions...forced to give the game away through general wear and tear, with the career ended by no less than four bad head knocks this season that attracted the concussion rule.
The doctors told him he would be a fool if he went on, "you don't need no more brain damage, son" and he thankfully took their advice.
Fulton is one of the last links to the Miracle Year '05, there are only two others now who continue to play for Balmain who appeared in that year's Grand Final - Farah and Richards.
Liam knew fairly early on in his career that he would never rise to the status of outright Champion, but was happy to settle for being a well-respected long-serving Clubman who's among the first picked week in week out for years on end when he was fit.
Quite content to put his snout up someone else's arse in the scrum for the right money, however modest that may be, as long as it's enough.
Turned out to be a scholar and a gentelman who never put a foot wrong.
And an ornament to the game.

MANLY-WARRINGAH SEA EAGLES 40. Tries: Hiku (2), Foran (2), Gutherson, Stewart, Cherry-Evans. Goals: Lyon (6).
WESTS TIGERS 8. Tries: Lulia, Nofoaluma.
At Brookvale Oval.
Crowd: 13,432.

Best Champo of the season by far.
It's not that often that anyone kicks ten goals in the third quarter while keeping the opposition to a single solitary behind.
My Spy at the Ground, who's a master of understatment, wired in at the last break "it only needed one good quarter to put that rabble away"
The had the Double Blues at their mercy at half time, and absolutely anihalated them by three quarter time.
This week, Buddy appeared as the Beardless Wonder - it was only a matter of time 'til he kicked a bagful - just needed to lose Sampson's hair.
His set shot kicking - witness the one he curled back in off the left boot from 70 metres out - has improved outta sight, and Nick Davis Comes to Save Us has had a lot to do with...at training he'd say "now here's a hundred balls Buddy, here's the 50m arc, and those things over there are the big sticks".
Practice makes perfect.
Lance it seems is conforming with the Sydney way of things, the "club culture", ethos or whatever it is - it's highly disciplined...with the aim being to get just get on with the job and keep out of the papers.
And of course in the acres of football newsprint that is printed in Melboune, South Melbourne only ever get grudging respect at best when they are doing well and are about to snap the necks off the all the Melbourne teams.
You'd think that that'd be worth a mention.
But no.
The headline will always be "Carlton fought bravely before gallant defeat".
My arse.
Word on the street has it that the smart money are talking up the prospect - just as they did last year, only to be goosed - of JP Kennedy winning the Brownlow.
And why not?
Did he not just beat the club record for most consecutive games with 25+ possessions since records were kept, and just keeps going?
That'd be eyecatching.
Consistently up there in the "best" line in the weekly scorebox in the fishwraps, and blind Freddy can see that Josh can play.
Still, who knows what the umpires see?
They are in another world.
Who on earth thought up the concept of giving the vote to the umps for Best on Ground?
The Miracle of Democracy at its perverse best, and don't the bookies and the punters know it.
Coach Horse is worried.
He thinks the words "cocky" and "complacency" have crept into his vocabulary, and that's not good, but he must be comforted by the fact that he knows how to get a team to the Grand Final and win it, with the help of the Secretary's Office, the Football Dept, and Sick Bay.
Been there, done that.
No shortage of silverware.
Not counting any chickens or anything.

SYDNEY: 2.4, 6.6, 16.10, 18.14 (122). Goals: Franklin 6, Reid 4, Parker 2, Goodes 2, Rohan, Malceski, Lloyd, McVeigh.
CARLTON: 1.2, 5.5, 5.6, 7.9 (51). Goals: Henderson 2, McLean, White, Bell, Johnson, Everitt.
At Sydney Cricket Ground
Crowd: 34,965.

two telly's and a couple of nil-all draws

Bleacherites,

It was a "most unusal day" in Perth.
As one commentator said "it's not often that you get up here on a very wet morning and its still pissing down with rain in the afternoon".
Loved the television close up pictures of the hardy die-hards on the bleachers in their heavy-duty plastic poncho's with puffy shower cap hoods that they haven't had call to use in years, all shrugging off the miserableness and trying to look 'brave', not many smiling until the camera landed on someone laughing his head off - that spectator must have been the one a sandwich short of a picnic.
Despite the appalling weather, Swans should have been goals in front throughout, but only the torrential rain balanced the two sides.
Buddy v Mackenzie was an absolute corker; at one point they were flat out on the ground wrestling Greco-Roman style like two pigs rooting in mud.
What a sight.
But at the end of the day, you'd reckon both blokes would call it a nill-all draw under the conditions, even though Mackenzie probably thinks he won the battle.
Mike Pyke v Dean Cox was undoubtedly the match up of the day.
The Mad Canadian with arms like snakes up against the Eagles all-time club record holder with 280+ games under his belt - all played exclusively as a ruckman - best in the business at the age of 32.
The upstart North American did well to match him, and would settle for the nil-all draw.
Did note that the Parker Kiddie picked up some kind of ridiculously large tubular trophy for being Best on Ground [why a trophy? was it the Up Yours Eagles Medal? The two sides do have history after all].
But there was general consensus in the household that Benny "In Like" McGlynn should have got the gong - he played superb rugged wet weather football, no quarter asked for, no prisoners taken, and booted a couple of big ones while he was at it, priceless in a predictably low scoring game.
Teddy Richards, gawd bless him, and Full As An Esky built the brick wall across the backline, and West Coast were fooling themselves if they thought they could get through that.
On a day like that, just dig the trenches.
JP Kennedy had a stirling game, better than the other Josh Kennedy on the ground, who could only boast smashing the poor kid Jones with a full on hip'n'shoulder to the head that saw Zac go off and fail the concussion test.
Welcome to the big league son.
The Tribunal took a dim view of it and rubbed out Kennedy of Perth for a week, which is fair enough under the current rules.
How much newsprint has Craig Bird generated in the Sydney papers given that he's been one of the Swans' best players all year?
None, zilch, as the Little Birdie continues to fly under the radar with his unobtrusive style that gets right under the skin of his opponents.
Where the Brownlow votes went is anyone's guess, given the Bamfords would have probably seen precious little as their contact lenses fogged up in the driving rain.
The Stats Guru pointed out that The Great Goodes Train with 341 games broke the all-time record for number of games played in top grade by yr indigenous fella, overtaking The Great Andrew McLeod of Adelaide.
The powers that be in the Colonies could only see their way clear to name a dining room after McLeod in the new southern stand at Adelaide Oval.
The SCG Trust can do much better than that, surely?
They'll at least have to have a life-size bronze scuplture of The Train installed at the SCG.
There's no shortage of precedent.
Just ask Basil Sellars for the cash, he'll stump up.
The Strayan of The Year?
No better candidate for the 11th bronze at the ground, simply given his exploits on the hallowed turf over the years, if nothing else.

WEST COAST: 2.2, 4.5, 6.7, 7.9 (51). Goals: J.Kennedy 2, Priddis, Shuey, Darling, Cripps, Lycett.
SYDNEY: 3.4, 5.12, 7.14, 10.19 (79). Goals: Goodes 3, Parker 2, McGlynn 2, Rampe, Reid, Franklin.
At Subiaco Oval.
Crowd: 25,076

Have found myself wondering from time to time why there aren't two telly's in the house.
Everyone has got more than one, right?
It's rather difficult to watch two games of football being played simultaneously on a single crystal bucket.
The upshot being, didn't see a lot of this game, apart from at half-time in the rules match and during the ad breaks, but didn't miss much by all accounts.
My Spy at the Ground was despondent over the number of unforced errors and the shocking penalty count accumulated through plain ill-discipline.
Went on about "can't blame the Bamford's this time, they only have themselves to blame" or something or another.
For the third Origin week in a row it was a case of No Farah, No Cigar - which is really getting like an annoying broken record - but at least that's over now.
And without A.Woods also, there's no punch in the forwards, who find themsleves directionless without their skipper, and so there's next to no effective go foward from the pack.
What hope do the backs have on the back of that?
Penrith are in-form, mind you, and go top after playing at Leichhardt, having benfited mightily from their dream season draw - soft as - and the Origin byes falling the right way for them.
The Loyal Faithful who turned out on cue in their droves at the Spiritual Home were sent packing, yet again, disappointed.
The Tigers could be anywhere, given 6th to 11th on the ladder all have the same number of wins [with the byes a complicating factor], but sink to 10th on a negative for and against.
They're in a big log jam with no way out unless they can they string a few wins together as they approach the pointy end, which still aint beyond the realm of possibilities, but gee, they're a worry.
Balmain more than likely to be eaten like kippers for breakfast come September, if they get that far.
On interview after the game, Coach Potter reckoned the gearbox may be the problem, especially when he hasn't got the full drive train in working order.
"We made far too many errors and just couldn't get out of second gear".
Harry at his taciturn best, but in truth, the whole season must be driving him right out of his brain.
It is mine.
Joisis, they're a hard team to follow.

WESTS TIGERS 10. Tries: Austin, Brooks. Goals: Richards (1).
PENRITH PANTHERS 26. Tries: Whare (2), Idris, Moylan, Naiqama. Goals: Soward (3).
At Leichhardt Oval.
Crowd: 16,698.