Friday, March 16, 2012

NRL Round 3: The Round 4 Prequel

Week three is definitely my favourite of the first three rounds of NRL action, especially if you discount weeks one and two.

It’s been a busy week in league as the inevitable argument about the introduction of an NRL draft pops up for its first visit of the season. Rugby League is a relatively simple game played by relatively simple folk, epitomised precisely by the fucking stupidity of the way teams buy and retain players for the duration of their contracts. In true rugby league style, management buys the best team they can, trains it over the off-season, wins a couple of pre-season tournaments, donks them into the opening rounds and then after a fortnight think, “I want a new one!” Then they get distracted by shiny things and Todd Carney’s new tattoo and forget all about football. Case in point is Manly – this week, they lost, then found then lost then found then lost and then found enough coin to keep Daly Chery-Evans for another couple of weeks, which I believe he will be putting towards buying himself a real name.

St George-Illawarra Dragons vs Wests Tigers
Newcastle Knights vs Brisbane Broncos
Gold Coast Titans vs Melbourne Storm
North Queensland Cowboys
vs Parramatta Seals
New Zealand Warriors vs Canterbury Bulldogs
Penrith Panthers vs South Sydney Rabbitohs
Cronulla Sharks vs Manly Sea Eagles

I know, it makes me sick that I've tipped the Dogs AND the Tigers.

Game of the Round:
Sydney Roosters vs Canberra Raiders

The Raiders vs Rooters game used to be one of the fiercest rivalries in league. Well, it was usually just Raiders vs Carney, but it was still ferociously fucking fierce. The Raiders were shit-hot against whichever poor, useless saps that got in their way last week (apparently it was the Titans; I really should pay closer attention) and I don’t see the juggernaut stopping any time soon. Especially not against the Roosters, who for all intents and purposes, are Cocks. Rooster, cock, geddit? See where I’m going with this one?

Something about dicks, really.

Raiders to win by a gazillion; Croker to get first try and Shillington to tear a pectoral. Me to probably have one too many Guinesses and pretend I'm Irish so I can be socially acceptably drunk.

I've been staring at this picture for hours, and I'm still not sure if he's throwing the ball or catching it.

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