MEBCAM 2013 - A True Canberran Legend

In days of yore during Canberra’s youth

A hero was born who fought for truth

The outlaw man from the Charny Wood,

He went by the name of Robbo Hood.

Robbo would take from the rich to give to the poor

To buy himself a new Commodore.

He'd laugh and smoke and have a drink

All on his ten weekly cheques from Centrelink.

He worked himself hard to stay on the dole

Keep unemployed, that was his goal.

His front yard had three cars all up on blocks

And if he had’ve went to school, it’d be the one of Hard Knocks.

One afternoon (and eighty bucks) down at Charny Labes,

Robbo made an adversary; people still talk of him today.

A member of the constabulary, one Sherif Nottingham

Hit our hero where it hurt, right in the SS sedan.

Robbo loved that car more than his life

More than he loved his first, third and current/pending ex-wife.

He bought it from a bloke from the Griffith flats

And he takes it every year to the Summernats.

It had a bumper sticker saying “My other car’s a Commodore”

And his other car was; that’s what he bought the sticker for.

The engine was noisy and the muffler so fucked

You couldn't tell if the tape deck was playing ‘Dirty Deeds’ or ‘Thunderstruck’.

Robbo’s feud with the law began on the day

That he decided to put on a burnout display

When his interest in the cricket match on telly had waned

As soon as the fielding restrictions took place.

So onto the streets Robbo did go

With his band of merry men following in tow;

There was Little Johnno, Billy S, and Mr Brian Tuck

Not to mention the Maiden Mazza, who Robbo wanted to fuck.

With his old Jim Beam singlet, faded tatts, mullet and rat’s tail

He looked like a Greek god, an Adonis, or a guy escaped from jail.

And who would have thought just a month after this

They’d be married, pregnant, and living with her mum and his kids?

But back to the story of Robbo Hood that’s at hand

That spread through Canberran folklore, from Amaroo to Banks

The tale of one man’s stand against law

You want Robbo to win, but you’re not sure why for.

Robbo’s hooned-up Commodore started circling in smoke

Covering the streets of Charny in a hazy, blue-grey cloak

And soon the siren sound of Constable Nottingham’s car

Could be heard above the squeal of Robbo’s burning rubber.

Nottingham stepped out and approached the tinted window,

“Sir, would you kindly turn down your radio crescendo?”

Robbo seethed as his shaking hands turned down the volume knob

Before turning his attention back to this fun-policing cop.

“Sir, you are drunk & driving with miscreant intention.

I also don’t think this is a legally modified engine.

Your doughnut burnout marks are plain for all to see,

And I know for a fact that you lost your license last week.”

And with that speech, Nottingham handed a list of violations

That Robbo had racked up on just this single occasion.

At this point, Robbo wished that his teeth had aligned

As he would have enjoyed having something to grind.

“That’s unfair!”  Mazza screeched, while slugging cans of Jim Beam.

“Bloody oath,” they all chimed in; consensus agreed.

“Wasn’t hurtin anyone,” Robbo said, and threw the ticket out.

“That fuckin cop doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”

From that point on, it always seemed to be

When Robbo’s men were having fun illegally,

Nottingham was there to get in the way

Issuing tickets to spoil the day.

Like when Robbo went to watch the Canberra Raiders

As well as the time he saw the Brumbies v Crusaders.

Robbo was too pissed to walk through the gate

So trying to climb the fence was his initial mistake.

“Iss not fair I can’t afford to get into the game!”

Robbo slurred to Nottingham has he tried to explain.

“Spent all me moneys at the Tavs and the Inns.

And the Labes and the RSL and the pub.  Oh, and Sinnies.”

“Get out of here, Robbo,” Nottingham decreed,

Ignoring the fact that Rob was also carrying weed.

Although not illegal in Australia’s capital,

The ‘decriminalised’ defence is far from infallible.

“I’ll get you fuckin coppers,” Robbo Hood swore his oath.

And he tried all the time, but he never got close.

Robbo continued to try and recover his pride.

“Come on now Rob, just pay your fine.”

And that is the story of how Canberra’s legend began

A battle for the ages, of sticking it to the man.

So to the Robbo’s of Charnwood, Ainslie and Kaleen

My hat’s off to you for MEBCAM 2013.

Round 25 – Underbelly: Green Machine

“It’s a jungle out there, David,” Raiders CEO Don Furner said, as he placed a hessian bag over his brother’s head and secured it around the neck with rope.  The man could not struggle against the bag, as his hand and wrists were also tied tightly.  “Don’t try to stop those men in green,” he added, patted his brother on the shoulder, and pushed the supermarket trolley that the once-coach of the Canberra Raiders was sitting in down the hill, and towards Lake Burley Griffin.  The trolley hit a large swan and flipped, spectacularly catapulting David Furner into the murky depths. 

“Hey Sandor, do you have a piece of gum, bra?”  Blake Ferguson asked his team mate.

“Sure bra,” the man they called ‘Dor’ replied.  “I’ve got some right here.”  Dor opened his sports bag and pulled out a syringe.  He passed it to Blake. 

“That’s the bidness right there,” Ferguson said, almost salivating.  He says ‘bidness’ because he doesn’t actually understand that the word is ‘business’.  He held the syringe to his neck and injected the contents into a thick vein, like they do in futuristic movies about drugs.  “Minty fresh, bra.”

Just at that moment, Terry Campese said from behind them, “Hey did you guys have some chewing gum?  I have a big date with a highly respectable girl who loves me for who I am and not because I am a big time sports star tonight, and I want my breath to be fresh.”

“Sorry bra, that was the last piece,” Sandor replied.  He shared a knowing look with Ferguson. 

“Yeah bra.”  Ferguson added, with the concentration of a person who is about a sentence behind everyone else.  “That was the last piece.”  Both Sandor and Ferguson broke down with laughter at their private joke.

Terry Campese’s brow furrowed – something was definitely strange here, and it might have had something to do with the syringe hanging out of Ferguson’s neck.

Ferguson’s phone beeped next to him – it was a message from Dor.

Fuk m8 there onto us bra. 

He started to sweat.  He was on his fortieth chance with the Raiders, and the management had always said that the 41^st infraction was definitely going to be the last.  He quickly Googled ‘infraction’ again, just to ensure that the definition hadn’t changed since last week (it hadn’t), then hurriedly went around his apartment, closing the curtains and turning off the lights.  If what Sandor had said was true, the Raiders would definitely be looking for him. 

His phone rang again, and Ferguson’s mouth went dry.  Ironically, he really wanted a piece of gum.  The phone call was from the Raiders.  Ferguson sat in the dark, ignoring the constant ringing.  Luckily his ring tone was Robin Thicke’s hit song “Blurred Lines”, so he didn’t really mind, and by the third time around, he had forgotten why he was ignoring calls to start with.

         

Round 25

I’m opting for Brissy to beat the Knights, just because I don’t think I’ve actually watched a Newcastle game this year, and don’t believe that they actually exist.  I am picking a Doggies win over the Panthers, but am really not confident, and reckon an upset is on the cards.  I don’t trust the Cowboys to continue their streak, and it took a LOT for me to pick the Sharkies there.  They’d better not let me down.  I honestly want to watch the Eels vs the Dragons on Monday night – I might even buy Foxtel just for the occasion.  I can’t believe how shit that game is going to be. 

Brisbane Broncos vs Newcastle Knights     

Canterbury Bulldogs vs Penrith Panthers   

Cronulla Sharks vs Nth Queensland Cowboys       

Wests Tigers vs South Sydney Rabbitohs   

Sydney Roosters vs Gold Coast Titans        

Manly Sea Eagles vs Melbourne Storm       

Parramatta Eels vs St George Illawarra Dragons   

Game of the Round

New Zealand Warriors vs Canberra Raiders

It has been a fucking interesting year/week for the Raiders, as two more high-profile players have been given the arse.  As per the brilliant outline for the next Underbelly series above (and seriously, it’s better than Squizzy; not that I [or anyone] has watched any of that shit), Sandor Earl has proven positive to taking some kind of gamma radiation pill in the hope that it would turn him into the Hulk, and has apparently been throwing it around to anyone who wants it.  I would, but I’m saving myself for a radioactive spider bite.  Blake Ferguson has decided not to attend training or answer his phone, and should probably start looking for another club as soon as he can find the light switch in his house.  But in all seriousness, the NRL should deregister him so he doesn’t keep thinking that it’s acceptable to piss in the face of (anyone) the club that gives him chances to play football and not get arrested for being a massive dickhead.  Because he’ll do it again next year to whichever stupid bastard reckons they’ve helped him to “turn a corner” or “earn his halo” or “bury his murdered hookers.”  Fuck Ferguson.  Fuck you, you fucking fuck. 

With Carney, Dugan, Earl and now Ferguson off the cards in recent memory, it takes the number of tattoos within the club from 18,002,352 to about six.  So that’s not bad.

Warriors to win.  

Sandor Earl's guilty tweet.  I would have used a Grumpy Cat meme myself:

 

Cold? What is this cold of which you speak?

Canberra is a diverse and interesting city, as demonstrated by its diverse and interesting population.  Whether you’re a public servant in Tuggeranong, working for the Department of Human Services, or a public servant in Belconnen, working for the Department of Immigration or a public servant somewhere in between, there are unique and interesting individuals with unique and interesting backgrounds.  Just listening to these fascinating people can uncover unique and interesting questions including “what other departments have you worked for?” and “do you know Jack Smith?  He used to work there.” 

There is, however, one type of person that stands out from the usual Canberran, and it has nothing to do with their Government security pass.  It doesn’t even stead from their residential suburb, the car they drive, the school they went to or which code of football they support.  It’s not whether they’re a Hungry Jacks kind of person, or a McDonalds devotee.  It’s not even a part of the epic Northside vs Southside debate that began at the same time as they filled that fucking lake.

Canberra is, by and large, a cold capital, and this is most prevalent during the winter season (from April until late October), where the mercury doesn’t even bother getting out of bed, and just hovers around the 5 degree mark all day.  Meteorologists don’t even give Canberra’s weather a mention during their Australia-wide wrap-up, usually giving it a “Queensland had a bit of fog in the morning, but cleared to a bright and sunny 24 degrees, perfect for those who decided to fuck work off and go to the beach.  Sydney had a similar start but didn’t quite get that sunshine, peaking at 22, but there’s a change coming through that will warm things up during the week.  Canberra - fucking cold.  Again.  Melbourne had a wet day, interspersed with periods of soaring temperatures and gusty coastal winds, followed by a tropical storm and then a lovely humid 32 degrees; perfect for those who are preparing for the Armageddon…”    From this, we can gather that during the chillier months of the year, Canberran citizens bunker down in warm clothes; with long pants, at least one jumper and a big ol’ jacket to keep the sleet from killing them.  A beanie covers the head, hands are replaced by gloves and a scarf becomes something that “hipsters wear during the summer because they’re dickheads” to “the only thing keeping me alive.”

And then there’s the people who just don’t get it.  Regardless of the winds coming directly from the snowy mountains at 100km per hour, or the hail, rain and fog, the unusual Canberran is out there in a t-shirt and shorts, wondering what all this fuss is about.  The unusual Canberran looks down on people who wear thongs during winter.  The unusual Canberran who “doesn’t mind if you pop the heater on” but is also quite happy to “crack the window and get some cool air circulating through.” 

These are not the same people that wait outside Mooseheads in tiny skirts and a midriff top, or even the girls that do the same.  The unusual Canberrans are not to be mistaken for the Moosehead Fuckwits, as they hold down good jobs, are educated and eloquent, watch movies and read books, play sport and drink beer.  They don’t ignore the weather because they want a like-minded fuckwit to hook up with, or wear what they do so they feel they’re allowed to punch you in the throat because you looked at them, the unusual Canberran ignores the weather because they just don’t get it.  They are often seen at bus interchanges, movie theatres, football stadiums and cafes – that’s right – the same places that you go.  I once saw one looking through a rack of jackets at a David Jones sale, but I could tell that their heart wasn’t in it.  I said to him, “Mate, don’t do this.  You know you don’t want it.  Embrace your unusuality.  Rock that t-shirt and shorts combo for another month.”  He hugged me, thanked me and left the rack, which was handy because he was going to buy the same jacket that I was. 

Unusual Canberrans of Canberra, I salute you.  Well, I would if I dared take my hands out of my pockets.  But I won’t.  Because it’s cold.

I've changed my mind.  You're all fucking weirdoes.

NRL 2013 Round 24: I'm sorry Dave, I can't let you do that...

A cracker of a Canberra Appreciation Month week this week, as David Furner was given the arse by the Canberra Raiders as head coach of the Greenus Machinas.  With a Ninja-Turtle handful of games to play for the rest of the year, one must ponder the reasoning behind sacking a coach so late in the season.  My guess would be to lure new players to the nation’s capital in the off-season, with the main attraction being “David Furner is not here.”

Personally, I liked Dave Furner.  Unfortunately it appears that Blake Ferguson and I were the only ones.  Speaking of Fergo, the sacking of Mr Furner means that he has a ‘Get out of Jail Free’ card (not literally), as his contract stipulates that he can seek an escape clause from the Raiders if Dave Furnsie is not the head coach.  I guess he can fuck off back to Cronulla then, although I have been rubbing my crystal ball lately (not literally) and reckon he’ll line up at the Roosters next year. 

The Raiders also managed to lose young up-and-comer Anthony Milford, although there’s still a whole lot of “get fucked” “no, youse get fucked” going on about giving him a release from his contract to go and live with his old man in Queensland.  So he wants to play for the Broncos, who are understandably excited about that, because it could mean that they could finally get rid of Peter Wallace. 

What does it all mean?  Basically that the Raiders lost Furner, Ferguson and Milford in one week, but on the other hand, might have made room for Peter Wallace.  HAAHAHAHA.  Kill me now.

Round 24

Panthers vs Broncos

Rabbitohs vs Bulldogs

Dragons vs Tigers

Titans vs Warriors

Cowboys vs Knights

Storm vs Eels

Sharks vs Roosters

Fairly cut and dry round for 24, with a couple of noodle scratchers in the Panthers-Broncos game, because you never know just how shit either of them will be; the Titans and the Warriors will be playing to remain in finals contention (although realistically, neither team would get past the first round of finals, so are probably both already looking forward to their end-of-season trip to Bali); and the Cowboys vs Newcastle game, which has about the same repercussions. 

Actually, turns out there’s a few games that could go either way.

My money is still on a Souths vs Melbourne grand final – the Chooks can go get fucked, and Manly are homos.  I just wish that the Burgess brothers would stop being dickheads by throwing street signs through cars, taking photos of their dick on Instagram and blatantly grabbing other people’s nuts during games.  I want to like them, but they’re making it a bit hard (not in that way, you sickos).

Game of the Round

Raiders vs Sea Eagles

Canberra should romp this one in – history shows that the team who sacks their coach after being flogged by everyone comes back the next week in a “who wants a flogging” mood themselves.  Except that statistically, that team is more likely to win the following week.  ANYWAY.  We shall see if the whole “Dave Furner’s coaching was losing us games” argument rings true this weekend, as the Green Machine come sputtering up against Manly, who are sitting pretty-ish on the ladder somewhere in or around the top four. 

Personally, I don’t think getting rid of the head-banded one is going to help things at all, and I’m tipping a Manly victory this weekend.  Of course, that won’t stop Geoff Toovey crying like a little bitch about how the referees don’t like him and won’t invite him to their birthday party, which is, personally, my favourite part of a Manly game.  Well, that and seeing Steve Matai get sent off.

Manly by… thirteen.  I love field goals.

Dave Furner looks fitter now that he did when he was playing.  And he was really quite good when he was playing.  Maybe he should pull the headband on again for 2014.

NRL 2013 Round 23: Schifcofske's Pretty Shitty Little City

Canberra Appreciation Month has coincided with a tumultuous time in the Raiders’ 2013 season, as they play the top teams right after each other.  Melbourne, Roosters, Canterbury, Manly.  We Canberrans love a challenge.  Traditionally, the Raiders play like absolute fucking shite during Canberra Appreciation Month, which is an age-old custom that is used to help maintain loyal support for the Green Machine despite them losing a lot.  Personally, I feel that its effect is beginning to wane and they should probably consider, you know, winning.

I had a dream the other night about Clinton Schifcofske, a former Raiders captain.  I think it was because I was trying to work him into the opening MEBCAM poem about Canberra, and was worried that Schifcofske didn’t quite fit the rhyme scheme.  In fact, I’m still thinking about it and have decided that it did work.  In any case, in my dream, he came back to play in the NRL and was immediately made captain/coach of the Raiders, and for some reason the other team didn’t want to tackle him and he scored a shit tin of tries and went really well but retired the next game and moved in next door to me, but we didn’t talk to each other and I guess he moved out quietly fairly shortly afterwards.

Round 23:

What a shit week of tipping last week – sending me from a pretty 30,000^th in Australia to 87,000.  It’s a funny world, this footy tipping malarkey.

OH THANK FUCK the Eels have another Friday Night game.  I would hate for someone good to be in the spotlight for eighty minutes a week. 

Broncs to continue their winning form, Bunnies to bounce back (it helps that their two best players are arriving just in time), Cowbs to keep everyone guessing, Sharks to get back on the horse, Warriors to spank the Panthers, Storm to fuck up the Knights and the Chooks to get over the Tigers, but probably not by as much as everyone reckons.

EASY.

Broncos vs Eels

Rabbitohs vs Sea Eagles

Cowboys vs Titans

Dragons vs Sharks

Warriors vs Panthers

Knights vs Storm

Tigers vs Roosters    

Game of the Round:

Raiders vs Bulldogs

Canberra will have a chance to show their home crowd that they can definitely lose by less than the last time they played at Bruce Stadium this week as they take on the Doggies.  Canterbury haven’t been travelling terribly well (maybe), and are probably lucky to be as high as they are on the ladder.  That said, Canberra are lucky to still be allowed in the comp sometimes. 

I am tipping a Raiders victory this weekend (seriously), and they will do it in a way that will annoy the fuck out of their fans by showing just how well they can play, a few weeks after giving a fine demonstration on just how shit they can be as well.  

The stuff that dreams are made of

Canberra Celebrities - my brush with fame

Canberra is home to its fair share of celebrities – people like the guy from the Magnet Mart commercials and a couple of chicks who auditioned for The Voice (but didn’t get onto the show).  We also have politicians, who are always friendly and NEVER drunk, as well as a plethora of sports stars, both current and past. 

Most Canberrans will tell you about the time that they “saw George Gregan, you know, back when he was, you know, playing for the Wallabies, you know, at the Hyperdome” or when they were working at Maccas and “in walks fucking Big Mal who orders like three Big Mac meals.  Fuck man, he’s big!” 

I have had the pleasure of standing behind former Canberra Raider Brad Drew at an ATM (don't worry if you don't remember him), as well as sharing the Mooseheads dance floor with former Canberra Raider Luke Davico.  I have also bumped into former Canberra Raider Jason Croker whilst crossing the street (he almost got hit by a car), and spoken to former Canberra Raider Paul Osborne several times at Woolworths.  

HOWEVER, my favourite personal story about a Canberra sporting celebrity involves no former Canberra Raiders players.  It centres around Lauren Jackson, WNBA and WNBL superstar.  At the time, I was working a job which basically involved me going to buy alcohol for everyone who worked with me on a Friday night (I may have had other duties during the week, but I pretty much ignored them).  During one Friday afternoon adventure to the shop, my mission was to purchase two cases of beer and a bottle of wine for the thirsty punters.  I hefted the slabs into my bony-girl arms, awkwardly balanced a bottle of Chardonnay under my chin and joined the line at the check out. 

It wasn’t long into my vigil that I realised that I may have over-estimated my upper-body strength in my attempt to hold up 48 bottles of beer in my hands (and a bottle of plonk shoved into my throat) for an extended period of time.  In order to take my mind of the crushing weight of our Friday night drinks, I decided to concentrate on the things around me...  such as the behemoth of a woman standing in front of me.  I recognised her immediately - Canberra doesn't have a lot of giant blonde women who wear "Canberra Capitals" basketball shirts with "Jackson" written across the back.  Standing a good five or so inches above me (to be honest, I have no idea how much an inch is, but five inches sounds like a pretty good measurement to stand over someone who is by no means a short person edit: after some Googling, yes, she is five inches taller than me.  Take that, metric system!), she appeared to be struggling with a few bottles of Coke and some orange juice.  “Pffft,” thought I, as sweat from a new gland opened up under my chin, making that fucking bottle of white wine just that little bit harder to grip with my face, “Lozza Jackson, one of the best female athletes (in Canberra) can’t even hang onto a few bottles.  I hope she turns around and notices my awesome feat of strength, then gives me a million dollars because I am awesome.” 

Lauren Jackson did turn around.  Indeed she was struggling with her drinks.  In one hand, she had eight litres of mixers (four Cokes and the OJ), and in the other, she neatly held two cases of beer and a bottle of vodka (this happened just after the Capitals won the premiership, or whatever they call it in women's basketball.  I am not saying that Lauren Jackson is a raging alcoholic). When she paid the cashier, she put down the mixers so she could hand over her money.  She didn’t even think about putting down the two slabs in her other hand.

It was at this point that I decided to nickname her “Two Slab Lauren,” and I would make banners for her basketball games.  I would be her biggest fan (and she would give me a million dollars because I am awesome).  In the end, none of that happened, because I don’t particularly like basketball, women’s basketball even less, and I never saw her again.  But in those few moments that we lined up together at the Lyneham IGA, I’m pretty sure we could both agree that it was a great moment in Canberra’s history.        

  "Two Slab" Lauren, as she likes to be known

NRL 2013 Round 22: Football Canberra Style

The unofficial celebration of Canberra Appreciation Month (start of August) saw a brilliant weekend involving the ACT’s most successful and well-known sporting heroes, the Brumbies and the Raiders.  In honour of the greatest month ever (Canberra Appreciation Month), both teams stood proud and gave fantastic efforts in their respectful football codes.

The Brumbies got off to a surprisingly good start, and kicked it out on the full a lot, and clapped themselves wholeheartedly.  Unfortunately they couldn’t sustain the “speed” of the “game” and it was around the 64-minute mark that the Waikato Chiefs gained the upper hand and kicked and clapped harder than the Brumbies for the full 80 minutes to take out the game, and with it, the Super 15 Rugby title.

On the other side of the weekend, the Raiders took on defending premiers the Melbourne Storm, and rallied hard against their much-fancied opponents.  However, like the Brumbies, it was the number 64 that came back to haunt the might Green Machine, and they found that giving up a 64-point advantage was just too much to overcome, narrowly going down 68-4.

Round 22:

I’m throwing a couple of dark horses and gut feelings (and general “fuck, I don’t know!”) tips into the mix this week, starting with the Dragons to overcome a reborn Brisbane team.  No reason.  I also think the Storm will do it easily over an injury-depleted Rabbitohs outfit, the Cowboys will go back to being shit against the Panthers, and the Sharks to scrap it out in a close one to beat the Knights.

Luckily Channel 9 has their finger on the pulse of the season, and is giving league fans what they truly want on a Friday night, with the bottom-placed Eels hosting the second-last-placed Tigers.  I’m not doing any additional research here, but why is it that every fucking weekend these shitfull teams land themselves a televised game?  The Raiders have had one game this year (in which they were thrashed by the Bunnies), with most of the pre-game telecast concentrating on trying to self-fellate itself over the fact that Greg Inglis existed, and completely ignoring the Raiders.  The commentary team then proved how much interest they had invested into the game by calling Jarrod Croker “Jason” and Paul Vaughan “Paul Vautin.”  I'm not saying that it's time to get some new blood into the commentary team, but when we're confusing players in 2013 with players who last laced on a boot in 1991... yes, I am saying it's time to get some new blood into the commentary team.  And get rid of Fittler and Johns.  And Gould.  So basically, keep Ray Warren. 

Not that I’m angry at all.  I think I’m more bemused.  No, angry.  Fucking fucks at Channel 9.      

Broncos vs Dragons

Sharks vs Knights

Storm vs Rabbitohs

Sea Eagles vs Warriors

Panthers vs Cowboys

Eels vs Tigers

Bulldogs vs Titans

GAME OF THE WEEK

Roosters vs Raiders

This week, the Raiders can make amends for last week’s nail-biting loss by taking on competition favourites the Roosters.  There’s a saying in rugby league circles about “beware the team who was smashed last week because this week they’ll probably smash youse back” (or something).  However, if I was the Chooks, I wouldn’t be too worried – the Raiders have a habit of following up a drubbing with an even bigger drubbing.  But since it’s Canberra Appreciation Month, I can see the Raiders fronting up in defence more than they did last week (let’s be honest, it would be hard to do less defence than they did last week), and will control the ball a lot better. 

Still.  Roosters by about 40.

Maybe the Raiders should give up on making milk products and get on board with some Raiders beer?  The presentation of this can of piss is absolutely astounding.

Mister Evil Breakfast presents: Canberra Appreciation Month 2013

Canberra, Canberra, our little capital city

Canberra, Canberra, I think you're so pretty

Canberra, Canberra, people think you’re shitty

Canberra – our pretty shitty little city.

Canberra, Canberra, has endless possibilities

Canberra, Canberra, with unlimited complexities

Canberra, Canberra, it’s just too cold for the extremities

Canberra – why are you such a fucking chilly pretty shitty little city?

Canberra, Canberra, we love every nationality

Canberra, Canberra, as long as you’re a majority

Canberra, Canberra, and don’t take our spot at university

Canberra – it’s tricky in a fucking chilly pretty shitty little city

Canberra, Canberra, it’s always such a pity

Canberra, Canberra, that we can’t swim in LBG

Canberra, Canberra, because of the algae and acidity

Canberra – too many fatalities in a tricky fucking chilly pretty shitty little city

Canberra, Canberra, let’s get to the nitty gritty

Canberra, Canberra, it was decided by committee

Canberra, Canberra, to have a set capacity

Canberra – no anonymity for fatalities in a tricky fucking chilly pretty shitty little city

Canberra, Canberra, promotes heaps of teenage chastity

Canberra, Canberra, it was just meant to be a quickie

Canberra, Canberra, fifteen year olds tested for paternity

Canberra – kiddies not anonymity & fatalities in a tricky fucking chilly pretty shitty little city

Canberra, Canberra, you’re seen with no personality

Canberra, Canberra, Sydneysiders sprouting profanity

Canberra, Canberra, about our Australian Capital Territoriality

Canberra – we have affinity and kiddies not anonymity & fatalities in a tricky fucking chilly pretty shitty little city

Canberra, Canberra, you never fail with predictability

Canberra, Canberra, a buck’s night ends with “Let’s all head to Sinnies!”

Canberra, Canberra, giggity giggity giggity

Canberra – we like titties and affinity but no kiddies or anonymity & fatalities in a tricky fucking chilly pretty shitty little city.

Canberra, Canberra, here's the end of this activity

Canberra, Canberra, that when I started sounded witty

Canberra, Canberra, but has lost its joviality

Canberra – the end of the ditty about titties & our affinity but no kiddies or anonymity & fatalities in a tricky fucking chilly pretty shitty little city

2013 Ashes - Third Test: What the fuck, Australia?

The first Ashes test surprised the shit out of everyone in how close it was; somehow Australia came within a 14-run bee’s dick of snatching victory, after being decimated to 9 for fuck-all in the first innings.  Enter Ashton Agar, the great whitish hope of Australian cricket, to smack around a rapid 98-run debut batting performance.  The second innings saw normal programming resume as the top order struggled, the middle order struggled more and the tail end hung around longer than they had any reason to.

The second Test had everything the first one did, except for any display of Australian skill.  It was a close contest that England ended up winning, scraping over the line by about 350 runs. 

Following this loss, the Australian media rightfully got up the Aussie team, declaring them the ‘worst team ever’, ‘a pack of overpaid dickheads’ and ‘fucksticks who couldn’t bat their way out of Batman’s Batcave on Batman’s Birthday even if Batman was guiding them.’  Their batting is shitfull.

So what has changed in ten days?  Other than the calendar, not fucking much.  Team morale is at a high, proven by Michael “I didn’t compare Shane Watson to cancer” Clarke being in London and Shane “Yes you did, and yes I am” Watson faffing about in Leeds, instead of, you know, playing cricket or training together and becoming some kind of version of “mates.”

Look, Australia can fuck around all they want with the batting order.  They can bring in seventy-eight different bowling coaches and a thousand different physicists to work out the right way to bat.  They can nail Watson’s front foot to the ground so his initial instinct isn’t to take a big ol’ fucking step forward, plant his leg in front of middle stump and wait for the ball to hit it.  They can practice nothing but slips catching for a week straight, and they can work out the biomechanically correct way to slide while fielding, and it will all mean FUCK ALL AND NOTHING because they aren’t playing like a team.

When you play in a team, you are playing for the other blokes around you.  You don’t want to let them down.  The current team’s mentality is somewhere between “if I don’t score heaps of runs quickly, I will lose my Adidas sponsorship”, “if I don’t score heaps of runs quickly, I will lose my spot in the team to Steve Smith” and “fuck it, I can earn $1 million to play for the Punjabi Super Ninjas in the Indian Premier League a whole lot easier than this.”  What they really need to think is, "If I get out now, the team is fucked."  

If anyone reckons that Steve Waugh got on well with Shane Warne during Australia’s dominating period during the 90s and 2000s, they’d be wrong.  Steve Waugh hates everyone.  He probably doesn’t even particularly like his mum or his wife.  But both Mrs Waughs are good team players (or something... I don't know where I'm going with this).  Anyway... The Australian cricket team need to perform to the best of their ability for the good of the team.  Need quick runs?  Fuckin tonk away then.  Need to bat out a session?  Dig in and don’t play at anything that even thinks about missing off stump. 

England won the first two matches because they play better Test cricket.  Their bowlers kept their lines and lengths tight for longer periods of time, and their batsmen dug in and didn’t play at anything that even had a passing resemblance to a good ball.  Glorious to watch?  Probably not from a T20 cricket view, but in terms of real cricket, it was spectacular.  The English batsmen wore down the bowlers for over two days.  The best the Aussie batsmen could do was make the Pommie bowlers send down a few overs more than a One Day Match would provide.  If the English bowlers are sending down some accurate, tight bowling, then fucking block up and wait it out.  Jimmy Anderson is human; he will tire after about six straight overs -that's only 36 balls to contend with - so until then, keep your bat straight and stop trying to slog your way out of trouble.  That shit only happens in the backyard.

Similarly, when bowling, you could see that the Poms had a plan, some kind of idea that they were working on.  They pitched it up to Watson because they know he’s shit against anything a full ball.  They pulled it back against Hughes because he’s shit against anything short pitched bowling.  Swann ripped a couple of deliveries past Rogers’ outside edge, then lobbed in a straight ball that Christopher just stood by and watched crash into his off stump.  On the other side of the coin, Ashton Agar did what every Aussie spinner since Warnie has done; piff it in there and hope for the best.  And he got what most Aussie spinners since Warnie have got – sweet fuck all.  James Pattinson is overrated and erratic (and now injured HOORAY), and Siddle’s massive heart no doubt weighs him down during his bowling delivery stride.  

If there IS a plan that the Aussie bowlers are trying for, it's just not working.  Whether or not that plan is just plain wrong is entirely possible, but more likely is that the bowlers don't have the skill or patience to pull it off.  If that's the case, then one of two things needs to happen:  new plans, or new bowlers.  

While a lot of people are asking, “Where are all the Aussie leg-spinners that were supposed to have been inspired by Shane Warne during the 90s?” I am asking, “Where are all the boring-as-fuck fast bowlers who noticed that Glenn McGrath basically bowled the same ball (and had the same haircut) throughout his entire career – short of a length, aiming to hit the top of off stump.  Any movement in the air or off the pitch is going to get you wickets and keep the batsman guessing.  Instead we have fuckwits bowling a million miles an hour down leg side and then swearing at the batsman because they think it will threaten his manliness as his stock ball.  

I don’t see Australia coming close to winning this third Test, and England will deservedly go on to retain the Ashes.  David Warner will probably play following his score of 193 against a Zimbabwean 2^nd XI team, in which five other players also scored centuries.  I don’t think Warner’s great form against teenagers bowling on a runway is going to put him in good stead to play against a true bowling unit with swing, seam and spin to contend with, (also, because Warner’s a fuckwit) but I am, as always, happy to be proven wrong.    

NRL 2013 Round 20: No one cares, Benji

Has everyone stopped laughing/crying/pissing themselves over Benji Marshall’s upcoming departure from the NRL?  Yes?  Good.

Honestly, Benji, you need to take yourself a bit more seriously.  I mean, you’re a football player.  That is your profession.  Don’t be modest, tiger, being a football player is a really important job.  You really shouldn’t make your decision to stop playing football so lightly; I mean, fuck man, the world just won’t be the same without you playing football professionally. 

Here’s some news for you, Benji “Ethan Hawke” Marshall – as a general rule, everyone fucking hates their job.  Not many people get paid to fuck around on a field for 80 minutes a week, while spending the rest of their week at the gym, going to footy training and playing video games.  If you’re sick of the politics of being the top commodity in someone else’s organisation and want to keep your integrity, go and sort mail in the basement of a new business.  Go and cook burgers for minimum wage.  Learn a trade.  Become useful. 

Last Friday night, the Tigers were beaten by the Warriors 24-14 in Benji Marshall’s final home-ground appearance.  The crowd was respectful to Benj, who obviously like him a whole lot more than I do (it’s not hard though, to be perfectly Francis).  I guess even a (very small) part of me wanted Benji to do something in the game, but as time ticked by, he kept trying new and spectacular things to no avail.  And here’s why – no one knew what the fuck he was doing out there… including Benji.  When his flick-passes and behind-the-back shenanigans work, it’s not just because of Benji; it’s because his teammates are reading the play and running the right lines.  When he just starts throwing 40-metre cut-out passes without looking and hoping to fuck that his winger is just there to run onto it, it’s horrible.  And while Benji is undoubtedly a good player, I think the Tigers will be better off with someone else in the play-maker’s number six jersey.

But that’s just me, and I’m a bitter man.

Round 20

Cowboys vs Broncos

Bulldogs vs Eels

Titans vs Rabbitohs

Warriors vs Storm

Sharks vs Panthers

Knights vs Roosters

Tigers vs Sea Eagles

A couple of headaches this week with a whole lot of shit teams playing each other, namely Brissy and the Cowboys.  I’m going for the Cowboys, simply because you have to go for someone, and they’ll do. 

The Rabbits should bounce back from last week’s shock loss… Inglis is still out with a mystery knee injury that could keep him out for another few weeks – if Souths are actually struggling to win games because their fullback is missing, they should probably rethink the other twelve idiots on the field. 

Everyone else blah blah blah, shouldn’t throw up too many surprises, but it probably will anyway.  I’m still not sure how the Eels are still getting Friday night games televised every week. 

 Game of the week

Dragons vs Raiders

The St George Dragons recently signed young Raiders halfback Sam Williams, bringing the total number of ex-Canberrans donning the Red V up to seven.  I guess buying an entire club’s players is one way to break a sporting hoodoo, but it’s probably not the best way. 

This week is the first chance that the Raiders will have to play against disgraced/disgraceful ex-player Josh Dugan.  It will also be the first reunion of Blake Ferguson and Josh Dugan following a night that got Fergo booted from the NSW Origin side, dropped from the Raiders and kind of arrested.  I would love to give ol’ Blakey the benefit of the doubt and say that the weekend will pass by without incident, but I don’t actually think that will happen, and Mr Ferguson will be joining Benji Marshall in the dole queue next Monday.

As for the actual outcome of the match, I think Duges will try too hard (also like Benji) in proving that he was hard done by when he was released by the Raiders, and MY GOD I hope that story is true when it says that he won’t be welcome to have a beer with them after the game.  Sometimes people just need to sit back and reflect on their decisions in life.  Like in Return of the Jedi, when Jabba the Hutt is strangled to death by Princess Leia, he probably thought, “I wish I hadn’t have picked her to be a slave.”  Similarly, Josh Dugan will hopefully say to a closed Raiders’ dressing room door in front of him, “I wish I wasn’t such a fuckwit.”

Raiders by 13, because I love field goals.

Round 19: Wow, Round Nineteen.

The 2013 State of Origin series will from hereon in be remembered as “the one that should have been the best series ever except it was ruined by the fat guy who streaked in the last game and effectively fucked it up for everyone” whereby it should probably be remembered as “the usual shit that is only memorable for thefat guy who streaked in Game Three.” 

The fact that this fat fuck could run 140 metres is astounding – but to have him run 140 metres while evading security is a whole other achievement.  NSW forward Ryan Hoffman was quoted as saying, “"I'm not going to have a go at the security. But from a player's view, we're worried about safety.  If I tripped over him and hurt myself I would have been filthy.”  Hoff, if you tripped over him, you deserve to be injured.  Accidentally running into that guy would be akin to accidentally walking off the edge of the Grand Canyon because you “didn’t see it.” 

Congratulations to Queensland for notching up their eighth series win in a row.  However, as I have commented before on this blog, I predict that it will be the last series win by the Maroons for quite some time, as the NSW up-and-comers come up and the Queenslanders will get a bit older, slower, more injured and generally shitter.  It’s time for Inglis to go to fullback, Slater to hit the wing, Thurston to fuck off, some other blokes to fill in the centres.  Easy.  I could do Mal Meninga’s job (honestly, I think I could; except for his role on the Malaganis-Edwards-Johnson commercials).

I could also do Laurie Daley’s job (better than him) by sacking Mitch Pearce and shooting him into the sun.  For the 2014 series, I’d probably bring in Todd Carney and partner him with John Sutton in the halves.  And you know how much I hate Todd Carney, so you know that hurt me a lot to type.  A lot.  Like heaps.  I’d also get rid of Aaron Woods, who is the softest fucking forward that has ever had his laces tied for him in Origin.  I don’t know why NSW thought that picking the bloke from the Wildlife Fund who dresses up as a koala and gives hugs for $1 was a good idea, but hopefully it will be his last game at this level until he replaces the pillows on the end of his arms with hands.

Round 19

Benji Marshall dropped a bombshell this week by announcing that he’s leaving the Tigers, despite having another three years left on his contract.  He’s going to probably try his hand at playing Rugby Union, which should suit him to a tee, as he doesn’t have to tackle anyone, and can kick it out on the full as much as he wants to. 

In an exclusive interview with the Footy Show last night (I should have just stayed watching the cricket, to be honest), Benji defended his actions by declaring himself to be “loyal and honest, and full of integrity” and “expecting the same from the club.”  As far as I know, the Tigers were paying him to play, which pretty much wraps up their duties to him right there.  As for all the other shit that is going on at the Tiges, I can’t really comment on, because I just don’t care that much.  I’m sure they have their reasons though.

So for the turmoil that Benj is causing at the ol Wests club, I’m not tipping them.  Also because the Warriors are playing quite well.  Marshall has asked the crowd not to boo him when he runs out this weekend; let’s just see how the fans react to this loyal, honest player.

I’m going for the Roosters over the Sharks… just because.  I don’t need to explain myself to you people.

Everything else pretty much writes itself.  Good teams over the bad ones etc.

Tigers vs Warriors

Roosters vs Sharks

Panthers vs Knights

Sea Eagles vs Titans

Rabbitohs vs Dragons

Game of the Round

Raiders vs Eels

In their last game, the Mighty Fucking Canberra Raiders gave it their best effort to lose to the Cowboys, who are sitting pretty at the arse-end of the table.  It was the kind of win that the Raiders needed to have, but convinced absolutely no one of their credentials as a proper final eight team.  If they can flog the pants off the Eels this weekend, it will go a good way to proving that they can put teams to the sword and can play some strong, solid, consistent footy. 

But since it’s the Raiders, it will be a scrappy, shitty win.  At least it’s at Canberra Stadium, where the Raiders are looking at a straight billionth win.  It’s also probably going to be -5 degrees and pissing down with rain, so if they can combine their previous form of dropping the ball every time someone looks at them with cold & wet conditions, the crowd is in for a fucking treat.

Still.  Raiders by 30.

If anyone out there has PhotoShop and wants to insert a penis into this picture, be my guest.

Round 18: Remember the NRL?

There’s a round of football on this weekend, if anyone still cares.  Probably not right now, as Australia puts aside their “Rugby / League / AFL is better!” differences and agrees that cricket is fucking awesome (and soccer is shit).  There’s something special about an Ashes series – and there’s something even MORE special when Australia springs a surprise awesomenaut out of nowhere and unveils a potential mainstay, future captain, poster boy, marketing wet dream and potential man-crush for me.  I’m not saying that Ashton Agar is any of these – fuck, the guy has only played one Test more than I have, so let’s get off our knees for a moment – but if there’s something that Australian cricket needs, it’s a guy like him; quiet, unassuming, not a cock, educated, can play cricket.

Anyway.  NRL eh?  Ah yeah, I remember this thing.  Thirteen dickheads running at each other.  Right.

In good news this week, the NRL is back to its best, with star import George “I’mNot Sam” Burgess having his dick go viral on Twitter and Facebook.  And possibly Instagram, Pinterest and Tumblr.  It might have even made MySpace and LiveJournal.  Here’s an idea to everyone who’s thinking of taking a photo of their cock, norgs or jutz to send to someone “special” – don’t.  Just put your pants back on and your phone away.  The NRL haven’t penalised Burgo, which is a good thing, as being a fucking idiot isn’t a crime, but Souths have advised him to wear pants more often. 

Round 18:

Broncos v Sharks

Eels v Panthers

Bulldogs v Storm

Cowboys v Sea Eagles

I’m tipping the Sharks to continue to piss on the Bronco’s season (even though the Broncs are doing a fair enough job of that themselves).  Peter “Sterlo” Sterling came out during the week to tip that this will be the first time since the Queensland clubs were allowed into the comp that they won’t have any representation in the finals.  While no one ever really expects the Titans to bother anyone in the top eight, we’ve become accustomed to seeing the Broncos get bundled out in the first round, and the Cowboys soon after.  I guess we’re also accustomed to seeing Peter Wallace line up for Brisbane, which probably explains an awful lot.

I’m tipping the Panthers to keep the Eels stapled to the bottom of the ladder – no surprises there.  Sticky Ricky Stuart has sacked halfback Chris Sandow for being shit, and Jarryd Hayne’s broken leg didn’t quite heal in time for him to come back.  Unless Brett Kenny laces us his boots for the rest of the season, it’s not looking good for the ol Wattsamatta Eels.

Fuck the Storm during Origin time.  Fuck them in the ear.  They’d better lose.  Same with the Cowboys, who are playing gobsmackingly poor fooseball right now.  When the Raiders can pile a few tries on you, you know you’re travelling poorly.  And last week, the Raiders didn’t just invite the Cowboys to come back into the game, they drove over to their house, had drinks with them, ordered a pizza, decided to head to the pub, called a taxi, paid for it, smashed a few schooies together, and organised another mate to come and pick them up.  Then they invited them back into the game.  That didn’t really work, but I’m keeping it in (that’s what she said).

Anyway.

The Cowboys are terrible. 

Game of the Round

New South Wales v Queensland

Mate against state, plate against Tate, great against invertebrate.  It all comes down to this final game… which Queensland will win.  Paul Gallen was ruled out today with dwarfism, which has thrown the NSW camp into complete chaos as they decide who will be overrated, a thug, a sore loser and a cheat – in the end it was decided that Greg Bird and Anthony Watmough will share the honours.  Robbie Farah will lead the team onto the field, in a decision that I applaud, as the captaincy responsibility should definitely go to someone.  And Robbie really personifies that quality. 

NSW have opted to retain the same halves combination that didn’t do anything in Game One or Two.  I’m not sure who Mitchell Pearce is sleeping with to retain his place in the side, but it’s probably Laurie Daley and all of the selectors.  Johnny Sutton should be feeling a bit gipped about not making the squad, but it also means that he can get on the piss while he watches cricket this week.  And he won’t have to risk being James Tamou’s room-mate and accidentally fall into his mouth.  Seriously, Tamou has a huge mouth, and his jaw doesn’t always look like it connects the two halves of his head. 

I still think that despite the inclusion of Jonathan Thurston, QLD will be too good.  Keep in mind that this will be the last time that Queensland wins anything for ages though.  In the future, they should move Slater to the wing and Gringlis to fullback.  They will be forced to drop Thurston (like the Cowboys should have done), and Tate has already announced his intentions to leave rep footy after this series so he can return to playing Roger Ramjet’s chin.  So there’s plenty of changes to keep in mind over the next season or two.    

Goooooooooooo Queensland.

For a sec, I thought, "Tom Waterhouse and Mitchell Pearce look a bit alike."  Then I put their pictures together and realised, "No they don't.  They're just both fuckwits."

NRL 2013 - Round 17: The Survey Says...

Some great news for Rugby Union fans from the NRL this week – Sonny Bill Williamshas committed to staying with rugby league and the Sydney City Roosters for the 2014 season, so we can expect him to be pissing off back to New Zealand to pick up his All Black’s jersey around March.  

In other traditional news, another high-profile NRL player was charged with offensivebehaviour while out and about in Kings Cross, as David “The Wolfman” Williams found himself in a spot of bother this week.    My favourite part of this story is undoubtedly the line "It is understood that Williams’ teammate Justin Horo and Manly’s assistant coach Andrew Johns were also out on the night with Williams."  Good ol’ Andrew Johns.  Not only is he a massive dickhole of a commentator, a shit coach and completely rubbish as a media personality, he’s a massive dickhole, shit and a completely rubbish bloke. 

Good player, but.

A recent survey from some dickheads also found that Australians thought that the Cronulla Sharks were the most deceitful club inAustralian sport.  If someone asked me that question, I don’t think I would automatically go for Cronulla; to be honest, sometimes I kind of forget that they exist at all.  Surely the Melbourne Storm and the Canterbury Bulldogs are a bit shit in that department, you know, by way of breaching the salary cap and having to hand over premierships and all that?  All the Sharks have done is bring in Todd Carney, who brought in a whole lot of drugs.  It was always going to happen.

In other key results:

 * Melbourne fullback Billy Slater was rated the most ‘marketable’ NRL star – heading a hot field that includes, in order, Johnathan Thurston, Greg Inglis, Cam Smith, Cooper Cronk and Benji Marshall.  I think we’re all still in some shock that Cooper Cronk was beaten in this category.  Personally, I’m still shocked that people haven’t realised that he’s rubbish.

* South Sydney fullback Greg Inglis is regarded as the most competitive Australian athlete, winning ahead of stars like tennis ace Sam Stosur and cyclist Cadel Evans.  Playing 80 minutes of footy is a bit different to the competitiveness of flogging a bike around France, but I’ll just agree with the masses.  I’m sure Sam Stosur is as competitive as anyone though.  Except when it comes to tennis.

* Newcastle fullback Darius Boyd is considered the most "fake" leaguie.  I don’t even know what this means.  He definitely exists.

* Penrith are the most unappealing NRL club.  Has nobody heard of Manly?

* Sonny Bill Williams is league’s best looker.  I think this means that he is the “best looking league player.”  I wouldn’t disagree, only because if Sonny ever finds out that I don’t rate him, he’ll beat me up and have his way with me.  Also, I’ll be making jokes about how shit he is for leaving his club while he does it.  Then I’ll make fun of how rubbish union is while he’s cuddling me afterwards.

Union is shit though, seriously.  If we have learned nothing else from the series between the British and Irish Lions and the Australian and Other Places Wallabies, it’s that union is shit.  Israel Falou scored with his first touch in international rugby, which would make it about his third touch in rugby overall.  He bamboozled the defence by running at them, instead of booting the ball into the eighth row of the crowd, spitting on the ground and then clapping himself for doing so.  Well done, Izzy.  You’re a true “athlete.”

Round 17:

The Storm screwed me out of a perfect round last week.  I blame Cooper Cronk.  But I’ll tip them this week, because they’re playing the Broncos. 

Tiges to continue their good form, Panthers to sneak home against the Titans (who I’d also forgotten existed), and Manly to hopefully show up when they host the Eels.  No guarantees though, it’s Manly. 

Storm v Broncos

Sharks v Tigers

Dragons v Roosters

Titans v Panthers

Bulldogs v Knights

Rabbitohs v Warriors

Sea Eagles v Eels

Game of the Round:

Raiders v Cowboys

Last week, the Raiders had their first, last and only televised game for the NRL season.  They didn’t go so well, narrowly going down to the Rabbitohs by 34 points.  I’m still not sure how Canberra can only rack up one televised game per year – there are 75 games involving 150 teams in a 16 team competition should probably be spread around a bit better.  Parramatta, who are still at good odds to take out last place, have four more games being televised this year, after having about a thOUsand matches shown already.  Canberra do have a couple of Saturday afternoon games coming up, in contrast to the recent trend of Saturday night romps. 

An NRL spokesperson said, “At this stage we are not considering making Saturday afternoon football an ongoing part of the NRL match schedule.  There is, however, a curiosity both on our part and of our broadcasters to see how fans respond to the timeslot, both in terms of game-day attendance and TV ratings.”  Here’s a prediction, dickhead – ratings will suck, because the games aren’t being televised. 

As for this week, I’m tipping the Raiders for absolutely no fucking reason at all.  They’re playing like shit, and the Cowbs are playing well.  It makes no sense, but this game – THIS GAME – will be the one that turns the Green Machine season around.  So help me God.  

Remember when Josh Dugan fought a midget?

Round 16: The Most Important Origin Series in History blah blah

Well fuck me in the ear with an elbow – who would have thought that QLD would have won the second Origin game, thereby taking the “most important series in history, at least since last year” into a deciding third game? 

QLD completely dominated the Blues in Game 2 – bigger, better, stronger, faster, all the way across the park.  Normally they just save that for being bigger, better, stronger and faster than Mitchell Pearce.  Actually, normally everyone does.  Because, you know, Mitch Pearce is rubbish.

I honestly don’t know why the Blues selectors persevere with him.  His kicking game is dick, his passing game is balls and his tackling is dickandballs (I kind of lost my way in that analogy).  NSW must bring in Carney, McCrone or some kid from the League of their Own segment on The Footy Show for Game Three; there’s no way that they can allow to have one of the most important positions on the field being taken up by a retarded kid on a Starlight Foundation ‘Make a Wish’ excursion. 

However, it would be worth picking him to see if he lives up to his promise to kick the shit out of Billy Slaterin the next game.  While I think that Billy is a fucking numpty who gets away with a lot of shady shit in the back play, the only person he’d successfully be able to take on in a biff would be Mitch Pearce.  And I don’t want to see Billy win at anything. 

Anyway.

Dominating the headlines once again following Wednesday’s match was the sin-binning of a thousand four players following an ugly awkward all-in-brawl after Trent Merrin decided to try and flog Brent Tate’s chin through the back of his broken neck.  I’m not sure what kind of boxing training the Blues have been taking lately, but we’ve now seen Paul Gallen and Trent Merrin unsuccessfully fight someone who wasn’t watching them, so I’ll just assume the answer is none.

Following Gallen’s attack on Nate Myles in Game One, the NRL have knee-jerked the shit out of themselves and made punching-on a massive no-no in all forms of the game, with referees instructed to send off anyone who swings a fist at another human being.  Slater escaped this rule on a technicality by using his elbows and knees.  Treating the players like children is NOT the way to go, regardless of the child-like IQ of any given/collective players.  Fucking regulate it the way you should regulate everything in the fucking game, you fucking fucks.  Banning the shoulder charge was wrong – each shoulder charge should be judged on its own worth – if they shoulder charge someone well, carry on.  If it’s a reckless, high and dangerous attack, then penalize the dickhead who can’t tackle.  If someone retaliates to some dodgy play and punches Billy Slater, carry on.  Let them sort it out.  If someone punches on with someone for no reason, then penalize the dickhead who can’t play football (Gallen). 

Fuck I should be in charge of the NRL. 

Round 16

Another tricky round with injuries and players maybe backing up from Wednesday’s slap and tickle… Who the fuck knows, honestly?

Throw in the Warriors, who don’t know whether they’re fush or chups, and it’s a motherfucking confusing round to pick.  Fuck it, they’ll all tie. 

They won’t.

Tigers vs Storm

Panthers vs Dragons

Knights vs Titans

Warriors vs Broncos

Cowboys vs Sharks

Roosters vs Sea Eagles

Game of the Round:

Rabbitohs vs Raiders

The Raiders did what every normal club would do following its ninetieth suspended player for drinking, drugs and general illegal tomfoolery – started signing their players from church.  Welcome to Canberra, Jordan Rapana and Bill Tupou, fresh from two-year missionary stints digging wells, chanting Psalms and reading bibles and stuff.  Fuck it, can’t hurt having them burning incense in the changeroom before the game – at least it’ll mask the smell of Campese’s bong. 

Unless, of course, they’re just signing anyone with a name that sounds slightly New Zealandish.  In that case, I expect to see Tim Finn, Russell Crowe and Daniel Vettori pulling on the lime green by 2015.

You’d have to assume that this would be an easy game for the Rabbitohs.  That’s probably because it really will be; the Raiders were fucking horrible last week against the Tigers.  No matter how much the Canberra lads step up their game this round, I don’t think it will be enough.  Unless of course, the Raiders step it up a shit tin, and the Bunnies also step it down a metric fuck ton.  Then they MIGHT get through in a golden-point thriller.

Bunnies by a thousand. 

You stay classy, NRL.  And keep drawing penises on your running sheet during live TV broadcasts