Holy shit holy shit holy shit it has finally arrived – welcome to the fucking end of the footy season. I love the NRL, I really do, but fuck me sideways with an off-season misdemeanour by a promising Toyota Cup player, this season has just gone on and on and on.
It’s the Storm vs the Bulldogs in what should be a barnstormer of a crackerjack of an explosive game between the two teams who have proven to be prrrrrrobably the most consistent all year. So that works as a showcase for the sport, I suppose. Well done, rugby league, you did something right this year. Two things, if you count the suspension of Robert Lui. Three, if you take Todd Carney’s Achilles heel injury. Four, if you include Manly not making it to the Grand Final. Fuck it, let’s just round it up and say that the NRL did about 10 good things this year.
As usual, the dickhead Tigers thought that people still liked them and decided they’d give a red hot go at taking over the footy media this week, and sacked Tim Sheens, their coach of the last 10 years or so. Well, “sacked” is the wrong word. He also didn’t “walk away” from being coach, according to the geniuses at Weststststs. Whatever happened, he’s not working there anymore and has apparently flown over the Pacific Ocean to take up a coaching job in New Zealand (he took the scenic route). The Warriors all looked at each other and said, “Ey bro, we jus got rud of aar coach, ey, so we cood huv this one, ey?” and Sheensie said, “Well yeah, that’s kind of why I’m here; I’m pretty sure being not fired/not employed by the Tigers had something to do with your coach, Steve Kearney, actually being fired earlier in the year.” And the Warriors looked at each other and said, “Ey bro, we jus got rud of aar coach, ey, so we cood huv this one, ey?” Tim Sheens slapped himself, but then remembered that he didn’t have to put up with Benji Marshall anymore and crucked a tunnie frum the chullibun und rullaxed ey?
ONLY GAME OF THE ROUND:
Melbourne Storm vs Canterbury Bulldogs
My heart says “badoom… badoom… badoom” and my brain says “Subway.” I don’t know why people keep trying to tip with their internal organs (although my spleen reckons I should throw a lazy fiver on Flapjack in race 6 at Flemington).
Every man and his dog goes on about “Melbourne’s Big Three” of Cooper Cronk (seriously?), Cameron Smith and Billy AC Slater. Cam Smith is a tough competitor and won’t back down from a fight (and when someone is backing down from a fight is usually when Smithy actually turns up to throw some hay-makers), Cronk looks like a bloke who should be doing ice capades, and Slater has a bad habit of being really, really shit in really, really big games.
The Dogs have Ben Barba and one of the Morris brothers (the one that doesn’t play for St George), and that’s about it, really. I'm probably wrong and haven't followed the footy as closely as I possibly could have this year (except for the Mighty Sea-Green Canberra Rayguns, man I loved John Dugan and Mals Meningan!), but to me, it seems that they aren’t exactly flushed with experience over at Canterbury (but most of Bankstown reckons "their uncle can get it for you real cheap"), and in my humble opinion, will be the difference between the two sides.
My tip: Melbourne by about 9. I fucking love a field goal.
Happy End-of-NRL-Season-2012, everyone!
Why so serious, Anthony Winterstein?