a world cupdate!

See what I did there? That is the sort of A grade wit people expect from Errol. In my defence, it ain’t my fault. Much to John John’s horror, Intern Danny Wicks has been bringing in truckloads of baked goods every day this week and it’s all I can think about. Mmm….cupcake.

ANYWAY…how super party happy fun times as the World Cup been so far? The Errol team has been absolutely loving it. Lets break things down shall we?

The Wolfhounds

Well it’s safe to say we have fallen head over heels In Love with the boys, their staff and the Blarney Army. We have basically decided to be part of their entourage, whether they like it or not. We like to think our pushy sense of entitlement is charming. Sassy and I headed out to Parramatta Stadium to watch them in action against Tonga on Monday night. Being sheltered Eastern Suburbs girls, neither of them had ever actually been to Parramatta. Their wide eyed contempt wonder was something to behhold.

That combined with the fact it was the Hottest Night Ever and we were watching two foreign teams made us feel like we were on some bizarre overseas holiday. Sweating profusely whilst watching footy = strange. Strange and gross. It was also a peculiar experience to watch a team line up that you have sorta kinda gotten to know. There was actual NERVES on our part. Mostly because we wanted them to leave the field with their heads still on their shoulders, but we just really want them to do well.

Why is that? Well, despite the fact they are clearly adorable…we are behind them because we believe they deserve the success. There’s been a bit of chatter about the lack of first generation Irish in the team but honestly, these boys are committed. They are bloody proud of that jumper and played their absolute hearts out the other night. They were in it until the last second and were totally shattered after the game.

They felt like they let their team, their supporters and their country down. We patted their backs, massaged their egos and told them a million times IT’S OKAY YOU PLAYED SO WELLLLLLL but it didn’t seem to change their minds. Still sad face city! So I reverted to what I know best. Inappropriate touching. A few arse grabs and everyone was all smiles again. See! I am good for something. Maybe I could even molest the NSW Blues into victory next year? Magical molesting!

As for the game, media and fans alike have praised the boys for their bravery in defence and we have to agree. Apart from their pocket rocket hooker, Tonga is a team of brick shithouses.Stuff that they are BRICK SHITMANSIONS! Seeing Stuart Littler drag a Tongan boy out into touch was one of the highlights of our year. For serious. We were also really impressed with the Wolfhounds fantastic kick and chase. Enthusiasm for the win!

To be honest, this was a stressful bitch of a game. I was thisclose to asking for take away vodkas and retreating to hide in Sassy’s Rav 4. If I wasn’t so horrifically lazy, I totally would have. I thought I was nervy with the Dragons, but watching boys you kinda sorta know play IS THE FREAKING WORST. How do people do it? I deadset had a minor stroke. My left side still isn’t functioning correctly and I will be forwarding my medical bills to Rugby League Ireland.

And, in the interests of full disclosure, we have to admit we all have a giant school girl crush on centre Sean Gleeson. Or as we call him, Hot Ginge Gleeson. To be frank, this took us by surprise. Sure, we are decidedly pro ranga here at Errol….but finding a man of ginger persuasion actually ATTRACTIVE? In our pants? How did this happen?

Well he is pretty much the most adorable man in Adorabletown. To quote the ever eloquent Sassy -

When he smiles, baby ginger striped kittens burst out of flowers and frolic in the sunshine.

IT’S TRUUEEEEE! We are tres invested in his well being and kept standing up and yelling creepy supportive things from the sideline. When he messed up a pass that woulda been a sure try our hearts broke for him. Everyone was all pissy, but  we were all IT’S OKAY SEANY! WE STILL LOVE YOU! IT’S GONNA BE ALRIGHT BABY!

In the second half, he got absolutely poleaxed by a Tongan we died a second, more horrible death. He lay prone on the ground, obviously in a large amount of pain. Because we are excellent journalists we knew all about his health problems, and we were instantly reminded he had been battling a back injury all tour. NOOOOO! NOT HIS BACK! HIS ADORABLE ADORABLE BACK! We were light headed from the fear. Or humidity. Whatever. When he bravely got up and limped away we were overjoyed…THAT’S IT DARLIN! WALK IT OFF! GOOD BOY! WE LOVE YOU!

We thought nothing of our shouting love until as we were leaving the old bloke behind us taps me on the shoulder and seriously says ‘tell your boyfriend Sean he did really well’.

Yep, we are officially dirty ranga lovers.

The Passionz

Despite Rebecca Wilsons arrogant assertion that no one cares about the World Cup, the passion on display during the tournament so far has been truly inspiring. Judging from Monday nights turn out, no one told the Tongan fans that Madame Wilson sees the Tongan team as nobodies. God guys, haven’t you heard? You are minnows! MINNOOOOOWS!

Seriously though, shit was breathtaking. I love league more than life itself, and to know that international league has that much support warmed my cockles. Hehehe…cockles. I haven’t heard noise or felt atmosphere like that since…well I can’t remember the last time. Certainly nowhere near The Cavernous Shithole (ANZ Stadium). Sitting as lone Irish supporters in a bay of Tongans was well…interesting. Those bitches are formidable. A young boy kept turning around giving me filthies every time I yelled something pro Irish. Given the fact at 12 yrs old he was at least 3.5 times the size of me, I considered pulling my head in. I didn’t, because I am stubborn and obnoxious. But I CONSIDERED it.

The deafening TONNNNGA…TONGGAAA chant combined with the wall of green noise coming from the Blarney Army caused me to sarcastically yell OH YEH WILSON NO ONE CARES ABOUT THE WORLD CUP HMMMMMMMMMM. More than once. Coz in my mind, she totally heard me.

Now add Samoa to the mix and we get the awesome spectacle that was last night. Unsuprisingly I am not exactly an expert on Pacific Island relations except for that one time I went for a job with some sporting company that was running the Pacific Games. In my interview they seriously asked if I ‘minded dogs’, because apparently there is ‘a lot of wild dogs in Samoa’. And do I mind flirting with Samoan officials because ‘that is the way things get done in the Islands’. I wish I was joking.

AND THEY DIDN’T EVEN HIRE ME. Can you believe that? I’m not qualified enough to flirt with lecherous Samoan bureaucrats or beat away packs of wild dogs with a giant stick. Awesome.

Errrr anyway so yeh, I don’t know much about the Islands. I had no idea that Tongans and Samoans don’t feel loveytimes towards each other. WHO KNEW!

“I grew up in Grey Lynn and there were always issues with Tongans and Samoans. It got pretty bad at one stage, a couple of dudes got their heads chopped off at the markets,” Vagana told NZPA of when the rivalry turned ugly in South Auckland.

Got their heads chopped off? Makes our ‘rivalry’ with the Kiwis look pretty piss poor. Maybe if we had market beheadings our games would actually be interesting. Get on that boys. CHOP CHOP! Lolz…chop.

Anyway, what a game! And even better than the game…the war dances. WAR DANCES. They are literally the coolest things I have ever seen. The puffed cheeks, the macho posturing…the imaginary spears. It’s all too much. I think we should convene a conference of leaders from all Pacific Island nations to come up with a war dance for each NRL team. Sure, this may be disrespecting thousands of years of culture but HOW AWES WOULD IT BE? Imagine Whitey McWhites like Brett Finch busting out some Haka style moves. Amazing.

Needless to say my new found love for all things Islander will be immediately forgotten when the Irish take on Samoa next week. ERIN GO BRAGH!