Sydney down Essendon to go, or, Douche-bag or Turd Sandwich

Despite the injury toll, despite the second half fade out and despite the very real possibility that Mrs. Watson might try to legally adopt Mark Blake at some point this season, Goddamn it felt good to knock nail numero uno into the Swans ’07 coffin.

I’ve had enough of their ‘Blood Brothers’ bullshit. I’ve heard way too much about their ‘player empowerment’, their ‘core values’ and their other buzzword credos. I’m sick of hearing this rubbish about Brett Kirk being Buddhist. I’m certainly sick of Michael O’Loughlin pushing his opponent in the back every frickin contest. I don’t want to hear any more of Paul Roos’ false modesty, nor ever again look at his impossible fringe. And don’t get me started on Ryan O’Keefe. The stink cloud that is the Sydney Swans, which has been hanging over the AFL, has finally passed. And good fucking riddance.

Playing against the Swans is a bit like playing pool against that guy at the pub who takes himself way too seriously; everybody wants to win but when he starts nudging the ball a quarter of an inch with the sole intention of sabotaging your next shot, well, the fun tends to get sucked out of the game. You want to beat those pricks just to show them their dirty pool tactics are unnecessary.

The Cats played about two good quarters and beat the Swans, which is both good and bad. It’s the sign of a good team that they can perform well below their best and still win, but should we be concerned about the 2nd half fade out? I think it can be attributed to three main things; the rustiness – both skills, tactics and fitness wise – from having a week off; the lack of any fit players on the bench in the 2nd half; and the Swans finally getting some of the ball themselves. So, to paraphrase a friend of mine, let’s not lose our heads here. But we do need to find some replacements for the injured players.

Max Rooke should be heading back to see Shane Watson’s specialist, Nablett’s knee was getting more attention than a hooker on a submarine, Wojcinski looked, well, a bit dodgy, Ling got cleaned up about five times, Harley was clutching at his, what must be, wafer-thin hamstring and midway through the game Tickets Bartel was taken to Geelong Hospital with reports varying from a broken arm, to a head and neck injury, to an eye complaint to stigmata.

So who’s available? Kane Tenace could provide the run for Wojcinski, Josh Hunt could fill a defensive role if Harley misses, David Johnson can play a tagging role and Brett Prismall is due for his chance in the midfield. All have already played at some point this season. Oh, and if we need a key forward replacement there is the small, or rather large, matter of a certain full-forward named after a Native American chopping implement. So the depth seems to be there, which is another good sign.

Next on the Friday Night Football menu is Essendon. How the Bombers are currently in the top 4 or 5 is beyond me. If they make the finals they will be found out in the first week, no matter who their opponent. I reckon they’re a complete hoax. Frauds. A Mirage. I'm not sure who I despise more, them or Sydney. Their best player this season has been James Hird, having somewhat of a renaissance year due to opposition teams no longer tagging him and that six month course of steroids he took during the off-season. Ok, so I made that up, but in a league where the average player age is about 23, it doesn’t say much for Essendon’s recruiting when the guy leading their best & fairest is old enough to be Jobe Watson’s Dad and the guy coming second is probably Jobe Watson.

I’m sick of Essendon. I’m sick of their lucky, bullshit, one point wins. I’m sick of their poncing, high short-wearing, cheap free kick-getting forward line. I’m sick of their pompous, self-serving, faux-intellectual coach. I’m sick of Dustin Fletcher not having an opponent. I’m sick of their ridiculous, pig-headed attempt at a ‘clash’ strip.

Let’s keep the dice warm. Roll us another seven. Go Cats.