sassy’s grand final wrap-up: only one errol can win

October 5th, 2010

I won’t lie, there was a point – about 15 minutes into the second half of the grand final – where I cried. Not snotty Marley and Me-type crying. It was more a general Brett Morris-esque welling. I promised Kiki before the game that I wouldn’t weep, and I was determined to keep my promise. I’m nothing if not really petty and really stubborn.


By that point, all was lost and I knew it and it was heartbreaking. More than once I wished I was watching the game at home so at least I’d be able to listen to Rabs Warren commentate. His voice is just really comforting, and boy did I need comfort. Then Flossy Nightingale scored his second try and I got beer all done the back of my 2009 wooden-spoon jersey from over-excited Dragons fans and the sheer cold shock of being covered in mid-strength beer (they were fresh ones) snapped me back from the crying abyss.

So here’s how the game went down from our seats in the stratosphere.

The view from our seats: I should’ve known this was a bad omen.

SO MANY DRAGONS FANS. Those bitches was everywhere! And who was surprised? After last year, they had to Believe. Their team just had to transfer their skills into the finals series. On the other hand, as a Roosters fan, there’s a reason I didn’t have tickets: Because I’m not insane. I’m only that much of an optimist when I’m drunk or take a knock to the head.

I was expecting maybe … seventh or eighth for my boys. Knocked out first or second round of the finals at best. You know, something respectable, but not excessive. Something to inspire them to keep going for next year. Little did I know that Brian Smith – teeny tiny Smithy of the soothing voice and the dry, dry jokes – was a Rooster-whisperer and my team would start pulling Tigers-2005-style wins off as the season went on. It was like coming out of a hellish breakup (also knownas 2009) fat, acne-covered and depressed, and all of a sudden realising you’ve met the most perfect guy EVER. I was shocked and amazed and delighted.

Is it sad that I’m comparing my footy team to a boyfriend? Probably. But considering I spend Friday, Saturday, Sunday and Monday nights with football, it’s pretty accurate.

In the end, it turned out the 2010 Roosters/my new boyfriend weren’t going to have the whole fairytale package. They lost the grand final/he snores … but whatever. They made me happy, and I’m proud. And here’s why I think my babies couldn’t pull it off and Kiki’s dragons could.

GRAND FINALS NEED GRAND FINAL PERFORMANCES. I’m looking at you, Jason ‘Flossy’ Nightingale. The Dragons left-side is always their go-to attack side (shout out to Brett Morris for making the Kangaroos side again!) but with Gasnier back they started moving the ball to Flossy on the right wing, and the Roosters were too tired/demoralised to keep him out. Flossy you little gun! We always believed in you! It totally helped that he wore his lucky boots: those black ones that make it look like he’s a little kid who forgot his boots and had to play in school shoes. Maybe he could get sponsored by Clarks?

Truthfully, we thought he’d take the Churchill medal, but it turns out Joyce still really loves fullbacks (remember her lolz quotes about Billy Slater?), and I’m pretty sure Flossy doesn’t give a shit anyway cause he’s a grand final-winner.

Instead, we got to see Darius Boyd give one of the most unintentionally nerdy speeches ever when he accepted the Clive Churchill. It started with him standing around awkwardly and yelling ‘WOOO!’ and ended with him saying “now let’s go party!” like an American frat boy. Oh, Darius. It was an appropriate speech to hear when the Whitest Team in the NRL had just won a grand final.

Darius bringin cool back to the locker room whut whut

(For the record, not saying they’re white supremacists n stuff, just that they’re literally WHITE. B.Moz, Hornbag, Benny Creagh, you see where I’m going. There’s a lot of milk in the Dragons fridge and not much coffee).

WHAT’S THAT WAYNE BENNETT QUOTE ABOUT A CHAMPION TEAM NOT A TEAM OF CHAMPIONS? Cause yeah … that. I thought Floss was the best on the field and the most improved on the field but I wouldn’t fault any of the others, bar a few rain-related mistakes. Dean Young killed it. Jeremy Smith killed it, while looking like even more of a complete babe than usual.

Exhibit A. Dean Young congratulates Jeremy Smith on winning a non-tainted premiership and being a dirty spunk.

Weyman killed it, while he was on the field. Which reminds me, I refuse to believe Daniel Conn came in with a swinging arm until I see it. I also plan to never watch the replay, so Daniel Conn is innocent. The end. QED.

And lastly, TWO HOOKERS ARE BETTER THAN ONE. At least that’s what Charlie Sheen says. Boom tish! With the beauty of hindsight, 80 minutes of Jake Friend was no match for Dean Young and Nathan Fien. They were too sharp and speedy and his defence got too soft. Sad but true. I wouldn’t say any of my boys had shockers. They just didn’t bring the spark: they were a six when – at times this year – they’ve been a nine. Two words: next year.


Wanna know WHAT WE DID?

The UDL really brings out Yassy’s classy side.

Through a massive stroke of luck, we had tickets to the game, and the always fabulous Yasmin came with us, even though her two favourite players Moonie Vanoodie and Jarrod Yee-Hah weren’t playing. It probably helped that she has dirty crushes on Todd Carney and Ben Creagh, though. She sat between us, and even let me lay my head on her shoulder in despair in the second half. Usually she doesn’t much care for being touched, so thank you Yas!

After the game, while the Indian Roosters fan in front of us openly wept and was consoled by his girlfriend, we decided the best way to celebrate Kiki’s win, drown my sorrows and avoid train queues was to head to the Olympic Park pub and drink UDLs and dance to a covers band. Nothing cures sadness like dancing to Footloose and some comforting hugs from random Roosters fans and kindly Dragons while Kiki can-can dances around the pub. The general theme of the night from Drags fans was: BUT YOU GUYS DID SO WELL THIS YEAR! CONGRATULATIONS!

Kiki’s Grand Final headpiece (she made it herself!) both entertained and confused drunk people.

Next stop: The Beach Road Hotel for Kiki to gloat at Roosters fans. The only problem was that everyone there was so pissed they thought she was wearing Roosters colours.

And lastly: a drink and a pizza with our mate Shorto from the Jacksonville Axemen. Love you Shorto! Say hi to your dad for us!

I can’t express how much I adore every single Rooster for rebuilding us back into a team to be proud of this year. They finished second but it’s not enough of a reward for everything they did. All I can say is that seeing this broke my heart. It hurt even more than seeing Fitzy leave for the English Super League with a wooden spoon and a 16-point loss to the Cowboys, urgh.

And just as I was about to fume about Mark Gasnier sailing back in to get a Premiership ring, he stepped in to comfort Frank-Paul the Wrecking Ball:

Two words: NEXT YEAR. Next year, my darlings.

All pics: Getty Images


origin 2010: you’ll have to speak up, I’m wearing a towel!

May 20th, 2010

What up kittens? Time for your daily roundup of all the important bizness happening in the two Origin camps.

In completely unsurprising news, the Herald got Craig Bellamy to admit that he can’t promise there won’t be any fighting on the field in game one. Wait does that even make sense? Ok, so, yes, you’re telling me there might be fighting. And … what else? Is the sky blue? Is Hot Bitch Cooper sexy? TELL ME HERALD WRITERS, I MUST KNOW.

Maybe they’ve been learning from Mal ‘Cap’n Obvious’ Meninga, who has suggested to his team that getting wasted on (alleged) Stilnox and (alleged) Red Bull conallegacoctions is not the best way to prepare for an Origin game and perhaps they should try not to do that again.

The Tele tells us that Benny Creagh is going to take it to Darren Lockyer in Game One and generally make his life a pushy, tackly hell.

Creagh has been ordered to “terrorise” the veteran Queenslander in Wednesday night’s opening Origin game at ANZ Stadium. Creagh’s brief will include hammering Lockyer in attack and defence.

And it’s a weird situation, because all the Creagh-haters would say he can’t make anyone’s life hell, because he’s too busy pushing Justin Hodges then hiding behind Anthony Watmough. To that we say oh hellll no. Benny Creagh is a thinker (seriously). After Trent Waterhouse’s send off that bitch thought better of his push and backed off before he ended up on the sideline. Our Benny Creagh is S-M-R-T.

There’s more to All-the-way-with Benny Creagh than meets the eye. Remember when Luke Bailey said he was like Ivan Milat?

That was hilarious and/or terrifying. Locky might need to watch out.

Yet Locky seems so … unworried. Just chillin in the casino on a cruise ship. Looks like his relaxing cruise with Izzy Folau is really workin out.

And the Blues have brought in a new and deadly secret weapon: Freddy.


The deal is that awesome Blues from the Past like Freddy, Blocka, Joey, Laurie Daley and the Chief are going to be staying with the boys for a few days in camp to spread their wisdom and inspire the team. Plus they’ve already had a night talking to Garry Jack, Peter Wynn and Rod Wishart. JEALOUS. And sure, we’d love to have Blocka and the guys hanging around inspiring us, but Freddy is special. Is it just me? He’s so …. comforting. Put me up on a ledge in the middle of a nervous breakdown and he’s the man I’d want talking me down.

Seriously, can you name any other Origin great who you could imagine this senctence is about:

OPTIMISM sauntered into the NSW Origin camp yesterday with a towel around his waist and a copy of The Daily Telegraph under one arm.


If I was facing up to this:

in a weeks time, a man in a towel is the kind of man I want giving me advice. Am I right?

All pics Getty Images


origin 2010: we’re back bitches!

May 18th, 2010

Have you missed us darlings? I know, I know, it’s been a whole week and a half without any new Errol goodness in your lives.

Surprisingly, no, it’s not cause we were busy in our bunker sitting at a big judging desk, arguing, looking at photos, doing Tyra Banks impersonations, and picking the NSW Origin team. Although, Planet Eels suggested on twitter that we should be on the NSW selection panel, and to that we say YES PLEASE. CALL US ON YOUR COCONUT PHONE LAURIE DALEY, WE CAN FLY OUT IMMEDIATELY.

What we’ve actually been doing is dying slowly. The entire Errol office has come down with a hideous Ebola-like infection of death. We’ve been sleeping roughly 20 hours a day, coughing, wheezing, crying, moaning, and generally not being allowed out of our sanitary bubbles in case we infect the rest of the world. I’m actually kinda surprised no one has bled from the eyes or seen a vision of Jesus.

Needless to say, it’s kind of hard to blog when you can’t even make proper sentences. But thanks to the wonders of horse-strength antibiotics I’m vaguely upright, just in time to talk about Origin.

Come on down the boys in blue!

Kurt Gidley (capt)

Brett Morris

Matt Cooper

Timana Tahu

Jarryd Hayne

Jamie Lyon

Brett Kimmorley

Michael Weyman

Michael Ennis

Josh Perry

Trent Waterhouse

Ben Creagh

Anthony Watmough


Jamal Idris

Tom Learoyd-Lahrs

Luke Lewis

Brett White

… come on down so we can judge you.


Ah, Gidley, we meet again. Having met Gidley, once, for about 30 seconds, I can confirm he is a human, speaks English and has two arms and two legs. Other than that, I know nothing special about him, but everyone says he is “a good bloke” (which is the greatest compliment an Australian can give) and a great captain and all-around footy-playing champ.

But he’s also Not Jarryd Hayne. Is he?

My flatmate Denee hates football, and all football-related things. They confuse and annoy her. But last night when I saw the Origin announcement and yelled “HOW CAN YOU HAVE A DALLY M WINNING FULLBACK AND NOT PLAY HIM AT FULLBACK?” even she said “… well that just makes no sense”.


And having watched last night’s game, apparently the writers at nrl.com would agree with her. Can’t say anymore than that.


We’re gonna say it, you knew we would. B.MOZZZZZZZ! MOZZIE MOZZIE MOZZIE! Without doubt the best winger right now based on form. Not to mention polite and lovely and all things sunshiney in this world. When B.Moz scores a try, angels lose their necks and get their wings.

And when B.Moz plays outside Hot Bitch Cooper … you can guess that bit. We’re defending this choice all the way, kids. Remember Hot Bitch’s tries at ANZ in 2008? We do. Our pants do too. When he’s in form he’s a menacing defender and massively strong and seeing him in form, in sky blue, restores our faith in the world.

Timana Tahu, on the other hand, makes us feel kinda nervous. As the ever-eloquent Daniel Anderson put it, at the beginning of the season he was “rubbish”. Fair call, coach. He’s an experienced player though, and he’s improved, and God knows he’s stacked like a block of flats. If he lifts to rep level then maybe – just maybe – NSW’s backline has a chance of stopping the rampaging wildebeest Greg Inglis. Maybe.

(We’re already doing our part and sticking pointy little Errol pins into our GI voodoo doll. We made it out of light grey felt. It’s surprisingly life-like).

Which brings us to our Dally M winning fullback. On the wing. He’s a bit unpredictable in the regular season, and lots of people hate him. So he’s kind of  … the Anthony Watmough of outside backs. But he also totally lifts for Origin – like Watmough – and we approve of this.

We can’t say anything else about him except DAMMIT YOU WERE ROBBED FOR THAT TRY LAST YEAR JARRYD-WITH-A-Y. ps our friend Kate thinks you look like Rihanna. She’s right.

What up Jarryd? I like yo bob.


Well, well, what up Jamie Lyon! So your torture at the hands of the blues selectors continues.

Remember when you said you didn’t want to play Origin last year, and they made you play?

And remember when you said you wanted to play in the centres this year, and they put you in the halves?

Every time I say ‘centres’ I think of chocolate. Then I remember I can’t taste anything. MOTHERFUCKER.

Oh, how they must have laughed!

Jamie probably does deserve to be in the team – remember his defence last year? – plus he can kick those pesky goals. We’d rather him in the centres but then … who plays five-eighth? Our beloved Terry Campese isn’t exactly in form (sorry T.Camps!). Maybe Trent Barrett? Brett Finch is Origin kryptonite. And John Sutton … plays for the Rabbitohs. Ugh. If we were in charge we would totally put Barrett in the team just because there’s a chance that he might hit Greg Inglis in the face again.

If anyone wants to run for NSW Parliament on that platform, by the way, I’d totally vote for you.

Meanwhile, when Queensland sit down to pick their halfback, they’re choosing between Johnathan Thurston, Scott Prince and Cooper Cronk. In NSW we choose between Kimmorley (this isn’t meant to be offensive Noddy), crippled Mitchell Pearce, and recently returned from crippledom Jarrod Mullen and Peter Wallace. I won’t even include Todd Carney in contention for any position because I’m too worried about him stressing out and hitting the booze again, and Trent Hodkinson is, like, 12 years old. DAMN that shit is depressing.  Should we put in another centre? Josh Morris, you busy?

While you’re deciding, feel free to sign my petition to bring back Joey Johns. He looks totally match fit!  It’ll totally work!


Where God injures a halfback or three, he replaces them with 85 awesome back rowers. Between Watmough, Waterhouse, Creagh, O’Donnell, Gallen (ew, Sharks),  Hindmarsh, Laffranchi, Lewis, Learoyd-Lahrs, hell even Greg Bird, NSW literally has enough second rowers for three Origin teams.

We woulda put Lewis in the starting side, (and O’Donnell if he was fit cause damn that boy loves to fight) but we are happy x 1000 to see Watmough and Creagh in there. Watmough is MADE for Origin. He’s a sky blue dynamo. And when Ben Creagh runs the ball we deadset get occasional flashbacks of the Beav. Future Origin Hero. Trust.


First of all – WEYMAN! Has there ever been a more deserved first Origin call-up? Weyman’s gone from playing like 30 minutes max to being a blues frontrunner. And we feel weirdly … proud. Proud because we love a big fat footy dynamo, and weird in that the first ever thing he said to us was “I fucking hate journalists”. It was a joke, but still it’s lucky we’re:

a) not actually journalists

b) not easily offended.

Prove us right, Michael. Prove. Us. Right.

And secondly … good God, Josh Perry? Is this what we’ve come to? Where the hell are the NSW front rowers? Can someone not hurry up and clone an invincible George Rose so we can play him as a starting prop and on the bench? To quote our mate Greg, “Perry’s a pillow. A marshmallow. And not even a good Pascall one either”.

From now on, he shall be known as Home Brand Perry.


One word. Jamal. Forget where they’re gonna play him, we are currently taking bets on what super-amazing Origin hairstyle he’s gonna rock. I feel like the next progression from his tight pigtails at Country Origin is the full bun:

So what do we think overall? We live in hope. LET’S GO BLUES!

What about you kittens?


friday night recap: dragons vs bulldogs

March 26th, 2010

At Errol HQ, we never like to do things straight away if we can let Future Us look after it instead. So how about a really late recap of the Dragons vs Bulldogs from the weekend? Awesome.

I’m watching this game form the couch. Sure I’d rather be hanging in the gong at WIN Stadium looking at the water views (they really are lovely) and basking in the kind of satisfaction that only comes from being within stalking distance of both Hot Bitch Cooper AND Wendell Sailor, but a girls gotta take what she can get. And what I got … is lazy.

The Bulldogs fans have a sign that says ‘STAGGERING’. Really, guys? Of all the options, you went with a tribute to David Stagg? No offence to Dave, but he’s not really a marquee player, is he? For the mums and gays reading, if you cast him in Beaches, he’d be Barbara Hershey, not Bette Midler, right?

The Dragons play a great first set with a brilliant kick from Tiny Dancer but I’m too busy being shocked that Hornbag has new spanx on. Thery’re all … white! And shiny! I thought Hornbag was gonna hold onto those old manky faded blue-grey spanx until the end of eternity. I always figured when nuclear armageddon came, all that would survive would be cockroaches, and Hornbag’s blue bike pants. Pretty sure Hornbag would love me comparing his crotchal region to insects, just quietly.

Pic. Getty Images

After about ten seconds Darius Boyd throws a great pass right to B.Moz to dive in like superman for a try. Kiki sends me text messages that just say ‘B.MOZZZZZz‘ and ‘FANTASY LEAGUE SUCK IT‘.

I send one back that says ‘F*CK ME THAT’S THE FIRST TIME I’VE EVER SEEN BALL-HOG PASS A FOOTY.’ Dah-rius, honey, if you can pass like that, how come you’ve never done it before, hmmmm?

Brad Fittler gives me updates from the sidelines and I feel like- much as I love Freddy – of all the post-footy jobs you could possibly give him, why would you pick one where you can only hear his voice?

He has a lovable face, relevant things to say, footy cred like woah, and … a voice like a punch-drunk boxer. It’s like listening to Milo Kerrigan tell me about the Dragons.

I swear to god he actually says “I can pretty much guarantee that they’ll end up the other end the bulldogs in not too long time”. I think he’s nervous. DON’T BE NERVOUS FREDDY DARLIN.

There’s some crazy sea mist action on the field and newly-recognised hot bitch Jeremy Smith’s new curly hair is all windswept and drenched, swoon. It makes me sad that he hid his hot under a Storm jersey for so long.

Weyman goes in for a tackle and Rabs cackles “talk about some prime beef coming together there! Hickey into Michael Weyman!” I know when I think of Jarrad Hickey the first thing I think of is beef. Mmmm wagyu.

Dean Young scores, but Sowie can’t convert. I think he got the prance wrong and it put him off.

They have to send in an interchange player for Jarrad Hickey cause Wagyu Jarrad is deadset EXHAUSTED. He’s the dampest, sweatiest man I’ve ever seen and I’m scared he might have a stroke.

Brad ‘Milo Kerrigan’ Fittler gives us a weather report: “there’s a bit of breeze, it’s not too hot. You just get a bit of a lather up.”

Sassy can’t wait till Freddy’s known as the Most Trusted Name in Weather.

Is the weather getting messy? Aaa-aaaaaask Freddy!

Benny Creagh puts a hit on David Stagg that is completely massive and Dave takes a quick ride on the Teacups that makes the ‘STAGGERING’ sign in the crowd seem really cruel and ironic.

At this point I really need to pee but apparently I would rather risk internal complications and hold it in than stop watching the footy. Also, is it just me or is Luke Priddis kind of a bizarro Trent Barrett?

The doggies have a chance at a try on the left hand side, but Dah-rius takes Bryson Goodwin over the sideline to stop it, then patronisingly pats him on the head. And when Bryson gets his bitch on and wants to start a fight, Dah-rius runs away. He fights like me!

Beau Scott takes his place, because dammit if Beau isn’t the angriest bitch ever as soon as he steps onto a football field. All of a sudden Hornbag, Ben Hannant, and Flossy nightingale are in the middle of an actual fight and I feel like there is no one in the world less suited to be involved in punchy punchy times. If the camera could show what was actually happening in there Ben Hannant and Flossy would just be nuzzling each other’s necks like giant puppies. J.Moz and B.Moz run away to fake fight each other on the other side of the field, also known as “entertaining the crowd with a show of brotherly love” according to Rabs.

… hasn’t he seen Philadelphia?
Pic. capped by Cronkstaaaah

Rabs, this prase “brotherly love”, it means something that you don’t think it means. Trust me.

Other things Rabs has told us tonight include that Jamal Idris used to do Discus, and that Sterlo is a “whippersnapper”. These things may or may not be true.

At half time Kiki rings me to discuss the fight and to tell me she has run out of clean undies and is freeballing. We are officially way too close.

The boys finish their oranges and the second half starts. This is also known as ‘Rabs being even more fucking hilarious/senile than usual”.

There’s a fiesta of Warriors-esque passes and, on the sideline, Milo Kerrigan the weatherman interviews Michael Ennis. Rabs thinks “the players are really improving … what about Sam Thaiday’s oratory skills!”

The game loses momentum, until Beau Scott brings down a bulldog and Rabs calls him “a bounty hunter! They don’t get away from him!”

I hear his new movie is really shit, though.

The doggies finally get a try in; Gary Warburton is penalised for a high tackle because I think we all know that good things don’t happen to men called Gary Warburton.

No, Gary, NO!

The dragons charge into Green and Hickey in defence. I’m impressed. I’d be too scared they’d eat me. Emmett scores, Kimmorley is enraged, and I am completely confused by whatever is going on with the reffing. For the record, I’m not even drunk.

Also, yes that was very good Nick Emmett but please don’t wink at me through the tv again. It’s unnerving. We hardly know each other.

Meanwhile Kimmorley is still angry and frantically miming obstruction at the ref like a netball umpire in slo-mo.

Kiki phones me again and we declare Hornbag as the Errol man of the match.

Ben Creagh slams Kimmorley and mini-Hoppo takes a looong ride on Space Mountain. I yell out “thanks for comin’ Kimmorley!” like a dirty bogan.

B. Moz runs in for his third try of the noght and I seriously cannot even process how unfair this is. Remember our fantasy experiment? I really REALLY need this kind of talent in my team, but B.Moz refuses to give in and just steal a car or something. He’s so fucking selfish. My fantasy team is so gonna lose this week.

With that the ref blows the whistle, 26-6. I cry a little for my poor unfortunate fantasy team … and did I mention I need to pee again?


state of origin: blood, sweat and maroon tears

July 16th, 2009

What’s that word people kept saying earlier this week? … MAROONWASH, was it?

Oh, the sweet satisfaction of Queensland being denied their fairytale. Yes, we know they won the series, but we also know that instead of prancing off into the sunset to a sunny Queensland island to relive their victories, they’re gonna be sitting at home, lights off, watching slo-mo replays of this game and wondering just how it all went wrong. Johnathan Thurston will probably cry. He does that.

But the bottom line is the same: NO TROPICAL HOLIDAY FOR YOU NOW, BITCHES.

This game was a victory for brotherhood, tenacity, pettiness, spite, and sheer stubbornness, with just a hint of FUCK ALL Y’ALL added for spice.

If you’re wondering, you eat this delicious dish with … wait for it … THE FORKS.

For those who were not blessed enough to watch the game in all its glorious suspense, drama, violence, and hilarity, the Blues won. THAT’S RIGHT. Our baby blues brought it home 28-16.

The addition of the two Old Men in Blue, Trent Barrett and Brett Kimmorley, turned out to be a stroke of brilliance. Kimmorley was all over the field like a man half his age. The addition of Michael Ennis, captain of the good ship giving-away-stupid-penalties, maybe slightly less so.

But let’s talk about what you’re actually interested in: yes, there was a KO. A real one. No (non-literal) shit. After a bit of scuffling in a tackle, Brett White leapt out of his play-the-ball and picked an old school stand-up fight with Hot Old Man Steve Price.

Tragically, this didn’t involve anyone getting shirtless to punch on, which is one of the greatest football traditions ever. What it did involve was about three air swings, then Brett White making perfect contact with Steve Price’s jaw. We swear on our most precious vintage t shirts he was unconscious before he even hit the ground.

And we’re gonna stand up and say … yes, we was kinda shocked. We had always had a vague suspicion that Brett White was more … how do you put it? More a lover, than a fighter.

Pic. Getty Images

Can’t imagine why. Turns out Brett White has a fucking mean right cross, and it’s Steve Price who isn’t much for fisticuffs. Even his Warriors coach Ivan Cleary was terrified about what might happen.

I saw Pricey look to shape up and I thought, ‘What’s he doing?’ I thought, ‘Oh no.’

With all due respect to Pricey I couldn’t imagine him going great in a fight.

Love how he says “all due respect” like it matters. Now that we know Pricey is like a kitten without claws you can say whatever you like Ivan. Go on! Let it out!

And we won’t lie, Brett White kinda won my heart when after the whole scuffle, as Justin Hodges was making snake eyes – we aren’t kidding, he really did it with his hands like Barney from How I met Your Mother – he just licked his lips, mouth all covered in blood, and laughed … it was kind of hot. OOOF. Excuse us now while we hide our faces in shame for enabling violence with our perviness.

But somehow Trent Waterhouse (not to be confused with Trent from Punchy) was the one sent off and fronting the judiciary for running in as third man and tackling the falling unconscious Pricey to try and end the fight. Our boy Trent is now first man to be sent off since Gordie in 2000, and first blues player EVER to be sent off. His mama must be so proud!

Perhaps she can have the title painted onto a plate for the mantle.

(Gordie, on the other hand, is probably at home busily hand-sewing up a storm, whipping up a Trent Waterhouse voodoo doll and sticking pins in its knees, chanting BITCH TOOK MY TITLE).

But we’re putting it out there that Trent had the best of intentions and is getting an unfair rap. Soon as we finish writing this blog and painting our nails, possibly eating a sandwich, we fully intend to start a FREE TRENT campaign.

Don’t worry Waterhouse! WE’RE ON IT!

And if it turns out we’re wrong and Waterhouse was doing something dodgy, Sassy volunteers to spank him for being a Bad Boy. Yes, she really did say that. Her wrongness knows no bounds.

Tell you who’s not getting any help from us though? Oh yes, we’re looking at you Thurston. Don’t-you-walk-away-from-me JT.

As if we weren’t unimpressed enough when Thurston said “go away, you spastic” to Kurt Gidley. Um … spastic? Really, JT? We’re hardly in the position to be holier-than-thou about offensive comments, but we will say this: is it year four now? Have you time-travelled? Update your insults please.

But then we saw your boot making contact with Dave Williams face as he lay on the ground, and we is pissed. YOU KICKED OUR DAVE IN THE FACE!! UNACCEPTABLE!

We are thisclose to issuing a JT death fatwa, like Iran did with Salman Rushdie. Surprisingly, yes, we do know a lot of high profile Mullahs and we aren’t afraid to ask for favours.

Dunno if everyone’s aware of this, but Dave Williams (and no we won’t call him ‘Wolfman’; it’s a shit nickname and we refuse) happens to be the Patron Saint of Errol. As a sidnote, we cannonised him literally 6 months before anyone else knew his name so don’t you dare accuse us of being ‘Wolfman’ bandwagoners.

Anyway, we love Davey. Even though his defence of Greg Inglis was lacking in sections. Sassy maintains it’s because he failed to watch Wiz and Gordie on Monday Night Football presenting the new segment CONTACT CORNER. They specifically taught everyone how to defend Inglis … with role plays and everything! Seriously, if Bellamy didn’t let the boys have MNF tv privileges then he totally dropped the ball.

Anyway. Back to JT. In some ways we’re kinda like the mafia round here: we love chunky gold watches, cannoli, and fur … and we don’t take no one messin’ with our boyz.

So for convenience’s sake, we have drawn up a list of all our adored NRL babies.

So if anyone even THINKS of harming a hair on one of those boys heads, there will be hell to pay fo realz.

Let’s talk about Anthony Watmough. The man was a MACHINE! Played the whole 80 minutes and never looked like tiring. Bitch has endurance. Kinda like the way pre health kick us used to stay out dancing and drinking schooners until 6am. Yes, exactly like that. We were doing it for NSW too.

We know he gets a bit of a bad rap in the league world, but in our personal experience Watmough is a bit of a champ. And by that we mean whenever we have spoken to him he has been awesome and really encouraging of what we do. Which is enough for us to be on Team Watmough.

At this point Kiki would like to point out that this amazing form from Watmough is a direct result of her accidentally offending him at the Beaver tribute dinner last year. She somehow found herself alone with him and somewhat lost for words, and in true Kiki form she blurted out something inappropriate.

KHey Watmough…remember when you used to play Origin? And you were heaps good?

A ……….yes.

KThose were ummm…good times! *encouraging slap on the arm*

Obviously this was his ‘rock bottom’. He made a commitment to himself he would play like a man possessed and make the Origin team in 09. And he did! THANKS KIKI!

Just imagine how different things could have been if Kiki had made conversation about the weather. That is some Sliding Doors shit right there.

And Watmough teamed up with Ben Creagh to send in Benny for a try, too. ALL THE WAY WITH BENNY CREAGH. And that’s on top of Creagh getting the honour of being sinbinned. Amazing. Shout out to Mama Creagh! We especially enjoy that it was for … well for avoiding getting into a fight.

(All the way with) Benny Creagh was obviously upset  when Queenslanders piled into a tackle on Kurt Gidley, so he pushed Justin Hodges off, then … well then he ran away. HEART. Kiki thinks he put in the shove then suddenly had a vision of how fucking terrifying Wayne Bennett would be if he got suspended and had to backpedal like crazy. Either way Benny Creagh gets a membership card to the Steve Price Boxing Club. Look out for it in the post, Ben.

And last of all, Sassy’s dad’s favourite moment of the game: a Queenslander getting so excited at Dallas Johnson’s try that he spilled his beer. We like to think he made exactly the same face when the full-time buzzer sounded. Enjoy:

Thanks to the delicious Cronkster for his caps.


state of origin one: the debrief

June 5th, 2009

Apologies for not posting yesterday, darlings. But, you see, the Day After Origin is an official public holiday at Errol HQ. By which I mean we all hop in bed together and giggle away our hangovers of joy and/or sorrow. Can’t blog on a public holiday! For one thing, Intern John John would probably get all annoyed and try and start an Intern’s Union again. (The last one went down in flames when he and Intern Danny Wicks came to blows over the meeting catering options.)

I think our feelings about Origin can best be summed up visually.

……………. we lost.

Thanks Robbie Farah. Another relevant description is: DAMN I hate losing to Queensland. And not in the usual rageful we-enjoy-having-nemeses Angelina-Jolie-hating kinda way. I really REALLY hate it. It galls me. It actually makes me understand completely what the phrase ‘makes your blood boil’ means. There is deadset no other way to describe the rage Queensland incites in me. We even got a twitter warning for profanity because of it. FASCISTS. %$#&($#@.

But because I’m a masochist let’s talk about it anyway, shall we?


I do NOT have my own heading! Do I?

It wasn’t all tears and heartbreak on the field. Our team of baby blues looked … well to be honest, they looked a little freaked at times. But on either side of that is the potential for future Origin brilliance.

They ran out so strongly that even my friend who knows NOTHING about footy – hi Cyan! – smsed to tell me they looked ‘dangerous’.  But after the abortive joy at Jarryd Hayne’s maybe-try in the first half, they kinda … wilted. Like rocket in a toasted sandwich. And do you know what? I understand, babies. I thought it was a try too. The only people who don’t are parochial self-deluding Queenslanders like Barry Dick on the Courier Mail website who maintain that Jarryd’s heel was on the ground in this shot:

How good is the helpful ‘FOOT’ arrow? Apparently Courier Mail subeditors have little faith in their readers.

NOT THAT I’M BITTER ABOUT IT OR ANYTHING. Booo hisssss Barry Dick. (It’s funny cause he has the word Dick in his name). 

And waiting around while the video refs watched eight replays gave them enough time to realise they were playing State of Origin and freak the hell out.
But this is what comes with experience, right? I’m gonna say yes, because by the time forty minutes had passed, our bbs made a tough, scrappy, big-hearted AWESOME comeback.

And we wanna make a special shout-out to Benny Creagh – specially in the first half. Watching him run at the line made me twinge with pride. We like to think us yelling ALL THE WAY WITH BENNY CREAGH whenever he got a touch of the ball helped immensely. I can’t wait to rock up to Origin II and spot the CREAGHs on the back of baby blue jerseys. You know it’s gonna happen, just you wait. He’ll be a hero for strawberry blond boys everywhere. Cause God knows they don’t have many.

On the topic of second-rowers, Luke O’Donnell smashed it in the second half. Did our pervy comments help?

… if I say yes will you promise to leave me alone?

In other news, unless you are colour blind, you would have noticed that Justin Poore looked RESPLENDENT in his blues jersey.

See? I am also super-proud to point out in massive pink writing that our new BFF Bert from Country Rugby League is sitting there on the left,looking very dapper in his Origin suit. HI BERT! We always knew you belonged on hotaussiefootyplayersshirtless.blogspot.com, you old dog, you.

Apparently Justin Poore is also the den mother of the blues. P.Wallace was so depressed after the loss he couldn’t even manage to get out of his clothes (that totally happens to me too when I’m depressed. Completely normal. One time I slept in jeans) and J.Poore stepped in to sort him out. 

I asked resident astrology and Tarot expert Lozzy and she thinks he must be a Cancer or an Aquarius. They are v. nurturing star signs. I’m not so sure. He doesn’t seem that into it, does he?

Justin: … right there mate?

Justin: Remember we talked about this in camp? Start from the bottom of the jersey, not the top.

Justin: Dammit just hold still I’ll do it myself.
Joey: … ? 

Joey: This is just getting weird now. I actually think I saw a porno like this once.

Justin: For the record, I’m not sitting next to him next Origin. 


I can’t comment on the Queenslanders’ performance, because I don’t want to be biased on Errol. (That’s a lie. I love being biased. I just don’t want to talk about them. WANNA MAKE SOMETHING OF IT?)

So I’ll quote a Queenslander I used to work with, and surprisingly don’t hate. If nothing else, that’s probably because his username for footy tipping is ‘HatesTheStormHugh’. What a winner.

His summary is pretty much:

Well what did you expect? Every time QLD passed the ball it went to one of the stars of the game, all they had to do was not fuck up and the game was theirs. 

Amen. I will add though that Queensland really need to rethink their Origin suits.

No disrespect Inglis (that’s also a lie) but DAMN that is some zombie horror shit right there. Grey is NOT his colour. He looks straight up undead. That sort of thing is fine if you’re appearing as an extra in the Thriller film clip, not so fine for a victorious footy player.

Can’t they send the Queensland boys to June Dally-Watkins or Colour Me Beautiful or something to get their colours done and sort that shit out? It offends my eyes. (FYI, I think he’s an autumn, but it’s hard to know for sure until you get the scarf on their head).

In other news I will give you a chocolate bar if you can guess what song Johnathan Thurston was singing in his head while he waited for the game to start.

Here’s a clue:



We should also say hi to the boys from Fire Up! and all their listeners for putting on a great shindig down at the Alexandria Hotel for Origin. The screen really WAS big. Plus the live show was a sell-out and hopefully raised shitloads for FBi. 

Oaten and Ferris even asked us to do some crowd interviews before the game … sadly we took that to mean the whole thing was on radio, and kept saying ‘who wants to be on the radio?’

Considering that NONE of the live show was broadcast, that makes us complete idiots. This is no surprise. It is, however, one of the most Errol stories I’ve ever heard. We do not win at life.

Meanwhile we are taking this loss as a sign for the future: our boys have the talent, they just need the confidence and the tenacity to go with it. See you at the next game, baby blues. 

Love, Sassy.


Thank you as always to the lovely Cronkster and the INCREDIBLE BS for the screen caps. You boys are the best.


state of origin: serial killers and smut

June 2nd, 2009

Origin time! Just one more sleep to go till our beloved baby blues take the field in Melby at the newly and oddly-named Etihad Stadium. What is this place? Where is it? Is it the Telstra Dome? I have no idea. I will be watching it at the Alexandria Hotel and that’s what matters.

And our boys really are babies this year. Eight debutantes!

Don’t they look lovely?

Lovely and FIERCE. Justin Hodges and Johnathan Thurston tried to psyche out the baby blues by saying they’ll be terrified of the big night, but Benny Creagh (at the back, on the left, rocking the garland of flowers) was having none of it.

You wouldn’t play rugby league if you were scared.

Even Greg Inglis enjoys Ben Creagh’s burns. Izzy Folau just likes smiling.

Pic. Wayne Taylor

Try and argue with THAT logic kids. His job does involve running at gigantic men for a living. Hodges might be the noisiest sledger but Benny Creagh prefers a succinct burn.

Plus I bet Hodges doesn’t have an adorable personalised slogan like ALL THE WAY WITH BENNY CREAGH. HAH.

Benny Creagh has to be especially un-scarified to run out on the field each week, because God knows he’s had his share of injuries. No shit it seems like his head somehow manages to get broken and start bleeding every single time I watch the Dragons play. Head of glass!

It got to the point last season where I watched a documentary about how head injuries can turn kids into serial killers – (it’s true) – and after a few cocktails at the weekly Errol management meeting, we were thisclose to putting on a special Benny Creagh safety and surveillance team. Then we sobered up and got over it.

Well apparently Luke Bailey read that post too. When the Melby press asked if the NSW pack was aggressive enough he announced:

“I think [Ben Creagh] can snap. He is a bit like Ivan Milat, he has got that serial killer in him.

But we will have to see if he can get fired up first. I’ve seen him fire up a couple of times.”

WE KNEW IT. Oh Errol: breaking rugby league serial killer news … first.

And in case rugby league and State of Origin wasn’t dramatic enough to get Victorians interested, the teams have gotten all paranoid and finger-pointy to try and get them intrigued. SEE GUYZ! JUST LIKE UNDERBELLY … BUT WITH FOOTY!

Queensland say NSW turned up late to a coaching clinic for bushfire victims to avoid gettin spied on. Then they ran a closed session, so Queensland one-upped them with their own closed training session. Bellamy’s even keeping his team list folded up in his Secret Coachez Diary. It has a padlock and a sign saying CRAIGZ STUFF DO NOT RAED.

Ok, so maybe it’s not so much Underbelly as Bring it On. They don’t want those opposition bitches coming up to Compton and stealing their moves.

I’m sexy, I’m cute. I’m popular to boot! I’m bitchin, great hair! The boys all love to stare!

Meanwhile with Errol fave and Cowboys start Luke Hot’Donnell in the team, I was going to sit down with mah quill and mah parchment and write some of our trademark Errol perviness for you, possibly involving talk of intensity and sin bins and whatnot. That’s part of the site’s charm, right? Then I opened up the news.com.au website and realised Dean Ritchie and Matt Marshall had written an article about whether Luke is the new NSW enforcer, and did a better job than I could EVER do of being pervy.

“I’d go even further than O’Donnell just being the enforcer,” said Murray, who coached O’Donnell at North Queensland and NSW. “All the NSW back-rowers are edge players but I’d put O’Donnell in the core.

“He’s aggressive and explosive enough to handle the heavy stuff.”

OOF. Aggressive and explosive. That phrase is so … romance novel. I love it.

“O’Donnell can go the distance and has great stamina.”

Oh man. It’s funny cause I’m smutty. I love a double entendre. Also, single entendres.

“It’s an intense style of footy,” O’Donnell said. “A lot of people talk about back-rowers these days just as workhorses or having a workrate, a lot of players have that these days, but I’d like to think I can bring a bit of impact and a bit of sting in defence and attack.

“When I’m in form I think I’ve got a lot to offer at this level.”

“I’ve been here before. I’m happy to do any job I’m given.”

Seriously? I couldn’t make this shit up. I would make a joke about I’ll-give-you-a-job but IT’S JUST TOO EASY.

“I guess I have always been pretty aggressive out on the field, ever since I was a young fellow. I love the confrontation. I love the body contact – that’s what I love about the game.

“I go as hard as I can every minute I’m out there. That has always been my approach.


NSW legend Steve Roach has a huge opinion of O’Donnell.

“You need someone to really get stuck in and O’Donnell is the man,” Roach said.

“I just love (his) energy and power. He won’t relent … he just keeps going. The harder it is, the better O’Donnell likes it.”


I’m sorry, what was my point? Oh, yes. Even though it’s not us making the pervy comments this State of Origin (it’s weirding me out too, don’t worry), there are some things that never change.

[Doesn’t that article read like something we wrote as a joke for Errol? It reminds me of the ‘interview’ I di with Intern John John last year. Seriously, can you believe the real John grew a mo for us after that? Neither can we. -K]

Even after winning the last three series, and the fact that they have a virtual monopoly on Australian rep jerseys, the maroons have STILL managed to find a way to make themselves underdogs.

According to Cam Smith:

We knew what it felt like to be in their position three years ago, and you’re going to do anything to try and get a win.

It’s something that we need to be careful of. We can’t underestimate these blokes. They’ve got the easy job.

No one expects them to win. They don’t have to worry about any outside factors. There’s no expectation on them, so they can just go out there and play their own game.

It must be so stressful being Origin superstars. Poor maroons. I can’t wait to beat you.


dragons vs broncos – the shambles recap

April 10th, 2009


Okay it’s official, I am a crap person.

All week I’ve been planning to do the Most Awesome Post Ever on the amazingness that was Dragons v Broncos last Friday. And well, I just haven’t got round to it. I’m sure you are all terribly upset (“I’m not even mad, just disappointed…”) but you’re just gonna have to make do with this shambles of a post.

So now you are just getting the vitally important bits. And by vitally important I mean ‘stuff I find amazing and lolz’.


Despite his assertions that this game was no different from any other, you just know Benny was freaking out during the lead up. Well as much as he can freak out, which probably entails a slightly raised eyebrow and maybe an extra sip of his scotch and dry during happy hour at the leagues club.

[… or his lemon lime and bitters? I think I remember from the Uncy Wayne Australian Story that he is a teetotaller, although to be honest I was crying like a bitch about 5 minutes into it, so I could be wrong. IT WAS JUST REALLY EMOTIONAL. I LOVE YOU UNCLE WAYNE – Sassy]

And well, he kicked ass. And even more importantly – he emoted. I know you Broncos fans will go to your graves thinking his blood runs maroon and gold, but kids let me ask you this … did Uncy Wayne ever smile this way when coaching your team?


Yep, didn’t think so. Not only is he smiling, but the notoriously media shy Benny is well…well he’s posing for a glamour shot. I like to think donning the red and white has infused him with a new sense of self confidence. Bitch thinks he’s a sexy motherfucker! You just know he’s strutting around his bedroom, practicing poses and belting out Destinys Child lyrics.

Yes Wayne, I think we ARE ready for this jelly


Okay, I’m prepared to admit it. I was a complete and utter MESS this game. I know I’ve said it a million times but I am not a particularly emotional person. I don’t get stressed all that easily and I think most people would describe me as at least moderately laid back. But not when the Dragons play.

I become a whole other person. To be honest, shit is scary.

This game was extra special. The Broncs have been playing some awesome football, and even though they are totally our bitches and we had beat them in the last 7 games (and now it’s 8/8! yessss!) I was still really goddamn nervous. I guess I wanted Benny and the boys to prove they are true premiership contenders. My Red V clad heart was literally beating out of my chest the entire time. I was pretty much a Warner Bros cartoon come to life.


Consequently, I spent the entire game in two positions. A) lying on the lounge in the fetal position covering my eyes, shuddering in fear and B) leaping off the lounge and performing my patented ‘we just scored a try’ routine. Which involves a victory dance that resembles a mutated irish jig, thrusting excitedly into thin air, and yelling SUCK IT BRONCOOOOS while giving the double rudey finger to the TV. God, I wish I was joking.

I am ashamed to admit this, but when Brisbane made that mini comeback just outside the 70th minute, I totally lost my nerve and developed a sudden urge to go and return a DVD. Yes kids, I literally left the house, got into my car and drove away. I hate myself.


Oh my, I don’t think I’ve ever been this proud of my boys. Sure we have won games before, but this one was different. Even Gus Gould announced it felt like an Origin match. That’s exactly how it felt. So tense, so full on, so fucking satisfying.


Let’s do a roll call, shall we?

BEN CREAGH – Look, we are just totally enamoured with this man. He embodies toughness. He never talks himself up, never plays dirty, he is just always THERE. Ready for the hit up, ready to make the big tackle and ready to roll over the defence and score a sweet sweet try. Not to mention he did all that on Friday night with a BROKEN NOSE. Bitch could only breathe through his mouth but did he ask to come off? Nope. It’s all the way with Benny Creagh!

[I think that slogan is some of my best work … thanks to ‘All the way with’ Stephanie Kaye from Degrassi for giving me the idea. Am seriously considering making an all the way with Benny Creagh sign for the next Drags game – S]

MICHAEL WEYMAN – Shit has this guy been a great buy or what? Used to love watching him punch on whilst at the Raiders. Obvs Wayne doesn’t put up with that silly bizness so now he’s just channelling his rage into making speedhumps out of the opposition. I cannot believe the man is only 24. To quote Michael K from Dlisted “That is some Benjamin Buttons shit!”.

JAMIE SOWARD – A long time Errol favourite, Tiny Dancer’s awesomness is finally coming to the attention of others. We couldn’t be happier for him! Scored a cracker of a try, had a brilliant kicking game and generally lead the team around like the little general he is. Well deserved Man of The Match. Extra points for leaving his head gear on during the interview. Heart.

BEAU SCOTT – I’ve always had a soft spot for Beau. His unexpected work in the centres in the past few weeks has been a revelation. Best moments on Fri night? Setting up that try for Dell, and sledging his heart out at any opportunity. He’s such a little shit and I love it.

BRETT MORRIS – Yaaaaaaaaay! Do we really need to say anything here? You people have eyes right? B.Moz had a cracker. That try was just….wow. Yet more proof that as soon as we write about someone, their awesomness increases exponentially. Science, just is etc etc


WENDELL SAILOR – Just when I think Big Dell couldn’t possibly get more amazing, he proves me wrong. He is one of the most marvelous humans to ever exist and no one will ever convince me any different. The Broncos crowd booed him every time he got the ball. What was Dell’s response? To score an awe inspiring try and kick the ball into the crowd. The exact crowd that were booing him. HE IS SO FUCKING INCREDIBLE.

Also, his constant sledging of the oppositon is something to behold. I think Antonio Winterstein actually shit his pants. Awesome.

PS – Did you know his middle name is JERMAINE? Wendell Jermaine. Holy shit that is great.



Okay I’ve been watching footy for a bloody long time but I can honestly never remember seeing a player hanging in the coaches box the way Hot Bitch Cooper was. You know, just chillin with rugby league’s greatest coach. As you do. I literally got text messages from about 8 different people like ‘omg! kiki! hot bitch in the coaches box!’. OH I KNOW KIDS, I KNOOOOOW.

Sadly my man Coops is out with a dodgy hammy until Anzac Day, so I had resigned myself to weeks without his hotness gracing my TV. Obviously he could sense my despair so he rocked out some patented Hot Bitch intensity to cheer me up.


Channel 9 ….you better be getting this shit. Kiki says it’s my best side.


Oooooh hello…. I look pretty good from this angle too. Sweet.

Watching the interaction between UW and HB made me realise Coops could totally be assistant coach when (if?) he retires from footy. Actually judging from his perfect physique, he should actually be a conditioning coach. YESSS! After he’s finished with the boys, the Dragons will be an entire team of Hot Bitches. Oooooh mercy.

A particularly pervy Dragons fan on League Unlimited announced ‘Kiki, now all you have to do is make it into the top 17 and Cooper can condition you….up and dooooown’.

This is literally the best idea I have ever heard. I reckon I can carry it off too. I will be like Amanda Bynes in She’s The Man! Strap my boosies down, whack on an awes boys wig and rock up to training. OH HAI I’M TOTES UR NEW WINGER!


I can’t believe I’m going to admit to this (publicly), but one time I actually got mistaken for a boy.Yup.

Cracked out homeless dude – “Excuse me sir, do you have some spare change?”

Me – “………………….”

In my defence I was wearing no make up, ripped boys jeans, an old baggy vintage t shirt and newsboy cap. BUT STILL. GODDAMNIT.

Errrr anyway back to HB + UW. Did you see them….touching? Cynics will tell you it was a handshake, I say it’s the touch of two men about to invest in a Best Friends Forever necklace.


You heard it here first.

(Screencaps thanks to the lovely BS, he always gets us the good stuff. We love him. Go check his blog pls)