Finals Fever, (a cure for)
First of all, to all readers throughout the year, and especially to those small few still regularly checking in, I would like to extend a thank-you on behalf of myself and Mrs. Watson, for making Big League Little League the no. 1 blog to 'print-out-and-read-while-on-the-toilet’ in 2006. We especially appreciate, and look forward to, the various contributions, varying in length, intelligence and accuracy, from you, the readers, in the comments section. You are the Steven Silvagni to our Hudson and Walls, and we look forward to providing more roughage for you in ‘07.
But we aren’t going to disappear completely. You can still look forward to our Grand Final blog, part II of the look-a-likes, and other assorted AFL offerings in the coming weeks. Over the summer, I, the Captain, will pop up from time to time to offer my random babblings and solutions to the worlds various ills. I might even persuade Mrs. Watson to join me. But until then, more football…
Did anyone see the footage of Kane Johnson at the Richmond B&F letting slip which players are to be delisted? I reckon Terry Wallace deliberately told him, knowing the slightly liquored up club captain would do his dirty work for him. Pretty tough way to find out I’d imagine. Actually, I take that back. From now on, I’d like to receive all my news from a half pissed Kane Johnson inappropriately bumbling his way through it. I’m just surprised a drunk David Rodan didn’t storm the stage yelling, ‘What about 2004? Do you remember that goal I kicked over my head? DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM?!?’
It was also reported that Steven King has stepped down as skipper of the Cats to concentrate on getting himself right. In related news, I’m still waiting for Mrs. Watson’s Cameron Ling for captain article. But really, what do we need a captain for? As far as I can tell all they do is call heads or tails and then appear in a Herald-Sun poster. So, as an extension of the rotating captain policy, how about we go completely captain-less? Imagine sending a different player to the coin toss 22 times a year. It would confuse everyone, the opposition players wouldn’t know who to target and it could also open up a whole new betting angle, wagering on who will be Geelong’s captain each week. Wait, do I sound like I’ve got a gambling problem?
The VFL Cats are in the Grand Final this Sunday, which funnily enough has coincided with the Great Kent of Kingsley announcing he’ll leave the club at the end of the year. I hope he gets picked up by another team, I really do. That way, the supporters of another club can understand the pain of the Kingsley phenomenon, and we won’t look so bad for constantly ripping him. Well, Mrs. Watson won’t seem so bad. I was more of a Kingsley apologist, appreciating the eccentricities of Geelong’s favourite playboy millionaire. Still, I wouldn’t mind giving him the ‘scolding-hot meat pie’ send off Mrs. Watson so desperately wanted to give Peter Street.
Onto the real stuff now, and Adelaide has announced the return of Brett ‘the Budgie’ Burton, once again cementing them as the most hated team in the AFL. Anyone else hoping he re-injures his hammy in the opening minutes as Robert Walls cries, ‘The Birdman is down; he’s had his wings clipped… it doesn’t look good, Luke’? Seriously, if Wallsy gets any further up Luke Darcy’s ass they’re going to have commission an ‘inner space’ style expedition to find him. And by the way, if Quinten Lynch kicks 4 goals or more, the Eagles won’t be beaten. By anyone.
Tonight’s game, is a bit more interesting. I figure it could go one of two ways; Sydney crushing the Dockers spirit with their ugly, ugly, brand of ‘drag everyone down to our level’ football and winning comfortably, or, the Dockers continuing their ridiculous roll, despite having perhaps the most over-whelmed coach in the AFL, and that includes Dean Laidley… Actually, make that the 2nd most overwhelmed coach in the AFL. For the record, I think Freo could roll Sydney and make it an all WA Grand Final.
For the final thoughts on the Preliminary Finals, here’s Mrs. Watson.
First of all, let me just say that I have NEVER been less interested in an AFL Finals Series. I mean, sure, there are no Victorian teams in the four sides left, but this has little, if not bugger all, to do with it. It’s just that there’s something stale about the whole thing this year, something predictable, something utterly boring about the four teams left and as a result I’ve found myself enjoying Channel 9’s Sunday afternoon coverage of Women’s Touch Rugby a hell of a lot more than the poonce fest that currently is, the AFL Finals Series. Having said that, the Grand Final will no doubt capture my attention, as it always does, and this year I hope it’ll be Craig’s Crows vs Roo’s Swans (wow, that’s kind of confusing).
Not an ideal outcome, I know, but really, look at the four teams I have to choose from. A West Coast side so arrogant, so full of steroids and hair product that only a club-wide piss test, or a game in Victoria, could stand in the way of their Grand Final birth. But I refuse to back a dead set favourite. That’s just shite! And boring! And fucking un-Australian, for that matter. No, I’m backing the Crows because, despite my general refusal to support any team harbouring the likes of Brett Burton (possibly the biggest wanker in AFL history), they’ve gone from Premiership shoe-ins to stench ridden, ball sniffing under-dogs in the space of only two months. I’m backing them because, if they win, it’ll be through hard work, blue collar bloody football and not through pooncey, fucking swan lake-style tactics, like the ones the Eagles’ midfield perform every week. Geez, that whole team would be right at home on a Channel 7 reality show about metro sexual footballers learning the ins and outs of a Tchaikovsky performance. I mean, I fucking hated Matera, Sumich, and the other West Coast assholes of the nineties, but at least they went about their football with a bit of grunt. Go Crows!
And as for the blouse carnival that will take place in Sydney tonight, I will only say this: If the Fremantle Football Club makes the Grand Final next week, there is no God.
Sydney by 30pts
Adelaide by 8pts
Out.
First of all, to all readers throughout the year, and especially to those small few still regularly checking in, I would like to extend a thank-you on behalf of myself and Mrs. Watson, for making Big League Little League the no. 1 blog to 'print-out-and-read-while-on-the-toilet’ in 2006. We especially appreciate, and look forward to, the various contributions, varying in length, intelligence and accuracy, from you, the readers, in the comments section. You are the Steven Silvagni to our Hudson and Walls, and we look forward to providing more roughage for you in ‘07.
But we aren’t going to disappear completely. You can still look forward to our Grand Final blog, part II of the look-a-likes, and other assorted AFL offerings in the coming weeks. Over the summer, I, the Captain, will pop up from time to time to offer my random babblings and solutions to the worlds various ills. I might even persuade Mrs. Watson to join me. But until then, more football…
Did anyone see the footage of Kane Johnson at the Richmond B&F letting slip which players are to be delisted? I reckon Terry Wallace deliberately told him, knowing the slightly liquored up club captain would do his dirty work for him. Pretty tough way to find out I’d imagine. Actually, I take that back. From now on, I’d like to receive all my news from a half pissed Kane Johnson inappropriately bumbling his way through it. I’m just surprised a drunk David Rodan didn’t storm the stage yelling, ‘What about 2004? Do you remember that goal I kicked over my head? DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM?!?’
It was also reported that Steven King has stepped down as skipper of the Cats to concentrate on getting himself right. In related news, I’m still waiting for Mrs. Watson’s Cameron Ling for captain article. But really, what do we need a captain for? As far as I can tell all they do is call heads or tails and then appear in a Herald-Sun poster. So, as an extension of the rotating captain policy, how about we go completely captain-less? Imagine sending a different player to the coin toss 22 times a year. It would confuse everyone, the opposition players wouldn’t know who to target and it could also open up a whole new betting angle, wagering on who will be Geelong’s captain each week. Wait, do I sound like I’ve got a gambling problem?
The VFL Cats are in the Grand Final this Sunday, which funnily enough has coincided with the Great Kent of Kingsley announcing he’ll leave the club at the end of the year. I hope he gets picked up by another team, I really do. That way, the supporters of another club can understand the pain of the Kingsley phenomenon, and we won’t look so bad for constantly ripping him. Well, Mrs. Watson won’t seem so bad. I was more of a Kingsley apologist, appreciating the eccentricities of Geelong’s favourite playboy millionaire. Still, I wouldn’t mind giving him the ‘scolding-hot meat pie’ send off Mrs. Watson so desperately wanted to give Peter Street.
Onto the real stuff now, and Adelaide has announced the return of Brett ‘the Budgie’ Burton, once again cementing them as the most hated team in the AFL. Anyone else hoping he re-injures his hammy in the opening minutes as Robert Walls cries, ‘The Birdman is down; he’s had his wings clipped… it doesn’t look good, Luke’? Seriously, if Wallsy gets any further up Luke Darcy’s ass they’re going to have commission an ‘inner space’ style expedition to find him. And by the way, if Quinten Lynch kicks 4 goals or more, the Eagles won’t be beaten. By anyone.
Tonight’s game, is a bit more interesting. I figure it could go one of two ways; Sydney crushing the Dockers spirit with their ugly, ugly, brand of ‘drag everyone down to our level’ football and winning comfortably, or, the Dockers continuing their ridiculous roll, despite having perhaps the most over-whelmed coach in the AFL, and that includes Dean Laidley… Actually, make that the 2nd most overwhelmed coach in the AFL. For the record, I think Freo could roll Sydney and make it an all WA Grand Final.
For the final thoughts on the Preliminary Finals, here’s Mrs. Watson.
First of all, let me just say that I have NEVER been less interested in an AFL Finals Series. I mean, sure, there are no Victorian teams in the four sides left, but this has little, if not bugger all, to do with it. It’s just that there’s something stale about the whole thing this year, something predictable, something utterly boring about the four teams left and as a result I’ve found myself enjoying Channel 9’s Sunday afternoon coverage of Women’s Touch Rugby a hell of a lot more than the poonce fest that currently is, the AFL Finals Series. Having said that, the Grand Final will no doubt capture my attention, as it always does, and this year I hope it’ll be Craig’s Crows vs Roo’s Swans (wow, that’s kind of confusing).
Not an ideal outcome, I know, but really, look at the four teams I have to choose from. A West Coast side so arrogant, so full of steroids and hair product that only a club-wide piss test, or a game in Victoria, could stand in the way of their Grand Final birth. But I refuse to back a dead set favourite. That’s just shite! And boring! And fucking un-Australian, for that matter. No, I’m backing the Crows because, despite my general refusal to support any team harbouring the likes of Brett Burton (possibly the biggest wanker in AFL history), they’ve gone from Premiership shoe-ins to stench ridden, ball sniffing under-dogs in the space of only two months. I’m backing them because, if they win, it’ll be through hard work, blue collar bloody football and not through pooncey, fucking swan lake-style tactics, like the ones the Eagles’ midfield perform every week. Geez, that whole team would be right at home on a Channel 7 reality show about metro sexual footballers learning the ins and outs of a Tchaikovsky performance. I mean, I fucking hated Matera, Sumich, and the other West Coast assholes of the nineties, but at least they went about their football with a bit of grunt. Go Crows!
And as for the blouse carnival that will take place in Sydney tonight, I will only say this: If the Fremantle Football Club makes the Grand Final next week, there is no God.
Sydney by 30pts
Adelaide by 8pts
Out.
posted by the captain at 5:01 pm
1 Comments:
Great blog, too tired to type a response
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