Shannon Byrnes: A tribute

We will be taking a week's silence in tribute to Shannon "I-kicked-five-fucking-goals!" Byrnes.

The little bastard has been valuable this year and his five straight against Freo was probably his best game for the club and a match-winning performance. Unbelievable.

I need some time to re-think some things...


Captain's tips: Carl, Coll, Adel, Haw, Bris, Geel, WB, StK

Season Tally: 72-24

Round 12 (Part 2): Mailbag, Special Colour Edition!

Captain: Well the remaining seven Big League readers certainly didn’t let us down; a proverbial mixed bag from the usual suspects. Let’s get into a select range of questions, dedicated to the memory of Peggy Benjamin.

Will Jade Rawlings deeply regret dropping Bowden?
Captain: (Sniggering…) But seriously, with Terry gone, Bowden dropped, Nathan Brown already angling for a media career and Richo’s hamstring still on the MCG half-forward flank, Tigers supporters, today is the first day of the rest of your lives.

To continue the 'Jade' motif, on the thank-fuck-we-didn't-sign-him-scale, where does Jade Rawlings rate? Is it an 8.7 or an 8.95?
Captain: Somewhere between Brett Spinks and Mitchell White. The only guy I thought we could have gone after harder was Daniel Bradshaw; mainly because Mrs Watson and I never got to use the nickname we gave to him, ‘Dallas’.

Does 'snazzy' get a mention in any other movies or just the piece of crap from last week’s blog?
Captain: No other movies whatsoever. But speaking of snazzy (and of crap) I’d like to take this opportunity to officially thank odeyone for contributing the comic strip featured on this week’s blog. Terry, your turd-sandwich is in the mail.

Mark Blake and Shane Mumford stand blindfolded in front of you and you have to shoot one of them between the eyes, the other is the no. 2 ruckman.
Mrs Watson: They're both average - I don't really think it would make a huge difference either way. But if I have to choose... shoot Mumford, keep Blake. While drunk, I payed good money for a Silkworm badge a few years ago and I'd hate to have to fork out another fiver for the Mumford version.

Vegas or Beans Lonergan?
Mrs Watson: This is like choosing team mates for LeBron James - as above, just throw either one of these clowns in there, it won't really matter. I'd shoot Lonergan though, mainly because he wears one of those ridiculous gloves (as if he wasn't soft enough already).

Robert Walls or Quartermain?
Mrs Watson: Hey Captain, I'll shoot one, you shoot the other. Let's take out both these assholes.

Captain: Mumford, Gamble and Quartermain… And if you’re wondering if they’re the three who get shot or the three who survive, well, so am I.

Most over rated player in the league?
Mrs Watson: I would have to say that all this talk about Eddy Betts is fairly ridiculous, and a year or so ago I would have probably said Roughead. I'm pretty sure no-one rates Deledio or Griffin anymore, so they're out also. Adam Goodes is always my obvious choice, but for the sake of introducing someone new to this argument, how about....Scott Pendlebury? Almost every football commentator loves this guy. While I must admit he's handy in a Dream Team, his influence on each game seems outrageously exaggerated to me.

Captain: Tough one. About 2 weeks ago I would have completely agreed with you Mrs W, but having watched him more closely the past few games, I’ll reserve judgement for a while longer. I will nominate one of his team-mates, however; Heath Shaw. Runners up include Andrew Embley, Daniel Wells, Essendon and Hawthorn’s mysterious injury list – who do they think is coming back, Dermott Fucking Brereton?

One especially for Mrs Watson: some have suggested recently that Joel Selwood is a great player because he is in a great side, made to look good by a classy midfield around him and that he gets a lot of easy ball handed to him as a result. Comments?
Mrs Watson: I have never truly agreed with the line of thinking that suggests average players in good teams are made to look better than they are, but it's hard to argue with Daniel Kerr and Des Headland, isn't it? Time will tell in Selwood's case, I think, but there seems to be more to his game than that which is immediately influenced by the midfielders around him. Whether or not he'll stick around long enough for us to find out, I'm not all that confident.

Tom Harley, Dasher Milburn: 2010 or not?
Captain: Short answer; yes to Harley, no to Dasher.

Re Mrs Watson's profile pic, is that when he became a potty mouth?
Mrs Watson: Actually no. I once kissed a trucker while hitch hiking home from Colac, and my vocabulary has never been the same since.

What do you two boys do for a living?
Mrs Watson: Not much. In 1981, my father wrote Abracadabra for The Steve Miller Band and our family has been living off the royalties ever since. When required, I proof read for Nick Hornby, but I spend most of my days deconstructing A-Team episodes and eating ham sandwiches.

Captain: Who do you think makes the sandwiches?

Best commentator?
Captain: Well, my favourite commentary combo has always been the old Channel 9, and current Triple M, box of Brayshaw, Lyon and Brian Taylor (and Spud Frawley, especially when they all hang shit on him). But since it is impossible to synch up TV vision with radio commentary these days, I assume you mean television commentators, of which, the current best is none other than Nathan Buckley.

Mrs Watson: Ok, so... technically, Malcolm Blight is more of a special comments guy, but you have to admit his comments are generally terrifically fucking random. I mean, you could pretty much play his comments over any episode of M*A*S*H and they'd make just as much sense as they do over a Hawks v Demons game. Sort of makes sense that he and Gary Senior could communicate.

If you could get 3 players from any other club besides Hawthorn to replace 3 players at the Cats, who would they be and who would you cut?
Captain: Jon Brown. Jon Brown. Jon Brown. And Brisbane could take whoever they liked, plus as much of Geelong’s finest weed as they could fit in a Brisbane Lions kit bag. (Although Pavlich would look VERY good in the hoops too.)

Creation or evolution?
Captain: I come from a town where ‘God’ was a balding full-forward with social anxiety disorder and a penchant for methamphetamine and teenage girls.

Who is the Captain's new bitch now that Coppertone Terry is no more?
Captain: I might have to turn my comedy flame-thrower back onto Mark ‘Choco’ Willaims. Notice how quiet he’s been since Port Adelaide returned to the mirage that they always were? Do you think he’d take the Richmond job? Here’s hoping…

I'm four episodes into Flight of the Conchords season two. Do I continue or is the rest just as lazy?
Mrs Watson: I freakin' loved Season One, but I'll be honest with you, Season Two has very few truly great moments - no "tooth brush fence", for instance. And you're right, it's lazy like a post-premiership Hawthorn. They had an outstanding season, surprised a lot of people, and have served up shit salad ever since. I'd keep watching though, cause every now and then they'll bob up to remind you how great they were. And even at it's worst, it's better than the Mighty Doosh.

Who would you rather root? Jennifer Hawkins or Megan Gale? Joel Corey or Corey Enright? Jo Hall or Jennifer Keyte? Arancha Sanchez Vicario or Ameli Mauresmo? Dame Edna or Mrs Doubtfire? Oprah or Dr Phil?
Captain: Hawkins, Enright, Keyte, Mauresmo, Edna and whoever promises me the most alimony/biggest book deal.

Mrs Watson: Megan Gale. Corey Enright, he’s dreamy. Jennifer Keyte. I'm going with Mauresmo, but only because more recently manufactured razors promise a smoother shave. I feel sick and refuse to choose.

Who should Ablett Jnr impregnate with his super sperm so the dynasty continues? Do you have any fears that his sperm might be super elusive and be able to evade the egg with a couple of ‘don't argues’ and a shake of the hips, rendering the dynasty over?
Captain: Does that mean Nathan Ablett’s sperm would jog halfway down the fallopian tubes and then give up?

Will Hawkins ever make it?
Captain: He’s on the right track. Will ever be a Plugger type of player? Nope. He lacks that killer instinct that you either have or you don’t. At worst he’ll play 150 games.

Who will leave to go and play on the gold coast?
Mrs Watson: If they were playing next year, I think we'd only lose Selwood.

Is Julia Gillard a man?
Mrs Watson: Yes.

Is the Geelong Addy edited and proof-read by an infinite number of monkeys typing on an infinite number of typewriters?
Mrs Watson: No. The Geelong Fucking Advertiser is neither proof read, nor edited. At all. In any way.

The night my mate got his 'brown wings' was during a three-way with some random Polynesian bird. The fact that he was the 'second man' in undoubtedly 'tainted' the experience. Is there a footballing equivalent? Winning the Brownlow a year after some Bulldogs hack?
Mrs Watson: The way I look at it, being the 'second man in' means you get less shit on your dick, and that's a good thing. Your mate should feel secure in the fact that someone went the mop and bucket on those Polynesian tiles before he moved in. So if we think about the footballing equivalent, perhaps it's like Geelong playing Richmond five days after the Tigers are bashed by Hawthorn in Darwin (I don't really know how to put this nicely): The Tigers were always going to get fucked in the ass, but this way, our midfielders won't have to get their jumpers dirty.

Captain: Yup, these are my readers (and co-blogger).


Captain: Syd, Ess, Geel
Season Tally: 67-21

Mrs Watson: Coll, Ess, Geel
Season Tally: 56-32

Julia Gillard may have balls.
Season Tally: 56-32

Round 12: Mailbag Time!

Back, by popular demand, the ever-entertaining, all-informative, never-ripped-off, Big League mailbag! And what better time of year to do it than the split round. And besides, how else am I going to fill my time without my weekly Corey Enright fix?

Excitingly, and a little nervously, I would like to welcome Mrs Watson onboard this time around. And he is ready for you to fire some curly ones at him: Being the incredible Australian that he is, Mrs W told me that he's quite willing to answer personal questions, unlike that Aussie imposter, wannabe Frenchman, Ian Thorpe, who is just 'good friends' with the 16 year-old Cuban rent boy staying in his bungalow. Come clean, Ian! No-one gives a shit; this isn't the 70's where Freddy Mercury was so in the closet that he was reduced to making film clips where he waltzed around in drag, singing, "I want to break free" and still no-one thought the dude was gay. This is 2009, get amongst it, Thorpey! You're a 6'5", 20-something, millionaire male with his own aftershave line and a $4000 haircut; if you can't get laid, what fucking hope do we have?! Wait, where was I?

Ah yes, real questions from real readers. Let em rip in the comments and we'll get back to you before the second half of the split round.


Captain: StK, WB, WC, Haw, Adel
Season Tally: 67-21

Mrs Watson: StK, WB, Rich, Haw, Adel
Season Tally: 56-32

Julia Gillard can't rap!
Season Tally: 56-32

Round 11: Coughlin’s Law

Since Mrs Watson is a late apology, and I’m completely uninformed about this week’s games, here’s some gambling (or tipping) advice based on one of my favourite running movie themes; “Coughlin’s Law”. That’s right, I’m going to ask you to part with your hard-earned based on a set of laws propounded by a fictional film character who eventually ends up in such massive debt that he kills himself. Good times.

1. Something different is always something better.
There’s always at least one ‘upset’ each round, so don’t be afraid to go against the odds or Mike Sheehan’s awful, awful tipping. Go against teams who have over-inflated expectations, teams who over-performed last season or those who have had a soft run over the last four rounds. And when in doubt, try and imagine Tom Cruise and Bryan Brown arguing about it and take Bryan’s side.

2. Bury the dead they stink up the place.
Stay away from teams who are out of finals contention, they have nothing to play for. This goes double for late in the season when full tank mode is on. Richmond, I’m looking at you. (Speaking of the dead, is there any program in place where registered organ donors could potentially donate a hamstring to Tom Harley? Are we sure this isn’t why Max Rooke went to Germany? Is that why he had to change his name?)

3. Never show surprise, never lose your cool.
Look, the thing about punting (or publishing your tips on a website for all 7 of your international readers to see) is that you’re gonna get some wrong, or, in Mrs Watson’s case, a lot wrong. But what do you do when fall off the horse? (Besides humanely putting it down, grinding it up and making glue) You get right back on that bastard. Stick to your guns. And don’t be fooled by late week media rubbish; you already know who the better team is, so why listen to David Scwharz at 4pm Friday arvo on SEN talk about some late mail he’s just heard? This is the same man who once dropped 20K on a completely random Sydney-to-Hobart yacht and who early last week thought Essendon was “really taking it up to Geelong”.

4. Never tell tales about a woman. No matter how far away she is she’ll always hear you.
Don’t big note yourself when you pull one out your ass. Take it from Terry Wallace, who has just given the most inglorious press conference I’ve ever seen. It was like a grade 4 kid making excuses to the principal; “yeah the buck stops with me BUT what about the recruiters? Yeah, I did most of the recruiting BUT how about those Western Bulldogs that I built? Oh, and who put Matthew Richardson on the wing, huh?” Jesus, Terry, let it go. I’ve heard German prison guards who sounded more convincing.

5. All things end badly, or else they wouldn’t end.
This applies to winning streaks, records, hot gambling runs, any night that involves multiple shots of chartreuse, apparently Tim Rogers’ song-writing ability, Seinfeld, the whole ‘friend’s with benefits’ idea, and, unfortunately, the 2008 AFL finals series. (By the way, what a great line, turned into an instant classic by Bryan Brown’s completely over the top delivery. And while we’re here, do you remember the scene where Tom Cruise gives the “I am the world’s last barman/poet” speech? Has any recent film scene dated worse than that? I mean, I remember cringing a little at the time, but watching it now I keep hoping for Coughlin to pull Tom off the bar and give him the whole, “Maybe you should take it easy, Champ, stop talking for a while” bit. Hell, at least Bryan Brown was drunk for half the film.)


Captain: WB, StK, Bris, PA, Adel, Haw, Geel, Coll.
Season Tally: 60-20

Mrs Watson: WB, StK, Carl, PA, Adel, Haw, WC, Coll.
Season Tally: 49-31

Julia Gillard might as well face it, she’s addicted to love.
Season Tally: 50-30