7 

footy observations: a salute to glamour

May 31st, 2011

Some people like the fancy things in life. Bollinger. Cigars. Caviar.

Stuff like Chopard watches, sky-beds and … rugby league. Ah, rugby league. The sport of kings! (The bloodthirsty Medieval kind, anyway). And luckily for all of y’all – we know you must be those kind of people considering you’re reading Errol, right? – today’s post is a wrap-up of one of the most glamorous weeks in league history. You can go ahead and read it on your customised iPad 2s on your yacht. Settle into your Eames chair and let’s get started.

We started it off with a trip to the Triple J studios to talk to the Doctor about State of Origin (national broadcaster! glamour!) and you’ll be extra proud to know that we arrived at the office during the middle of a team meeting taking place in the reception area. We hope all the loyal employees at JJJ enjoyed me walking through the door, mid-conversation, saying “YEAH I HAVE A COCK … I TUCK IT BACK WHEN I’M WEARING A TIGHT SKIRT”.

In context, it totally made sense … sort of.

And if you missed it, lucky you can listen to it online: BEHOLD THE MAGIC OF TECHNOLOGY.

Just head to six minutes in and go nuts. The Doctor’s also pretty lolz if you feel like following him on the Twitter.

But while we were busy basking in the glory of radio stardom (guest appearance! glamour!) up in Queensland things were a little more … unpleasant. The Gold Coast Titans were subjected to eight disallowed tries on Friday night. Eight! It’s a conspiracy!

Do the refs hate them because they’re beautiful?

We actually have confirmation via one of our favourite humans – George Rose – that the Titans are known as the “beautiful people”. According to Tommy Learoyd-Lahrs, soon as you hit the goldy you becaome at least 100% more attractive.


Pic. Getty Images

Would you argue with that? We wouldn’t.

The downside of course, is that you’re the coach of the woeful 2011 Titans, you have to find ways of coping with the endless run of disappointing losses and grim wins. Apparently coach Carty has chosen to cope by eating his feelings.


The beleaguered coach is rarely sighted outside his natural habitat of the coach’s ‘box’ ….


… and as a prey animal, may appear startled if he senses he is being watched. Proceed carefully.


The key sign of a coach under pressure is the loss of fine motor-skills and subsequent sausage roll disasters.

These are dark times indeed for Errol’s reigning sexiest coach in league. As for the reigning Hot Bitch Award for Hottest Bitch in League (aka Hot Bitch Cooper), the curse against the hot people of the world continues. What’s doing? Coops has a busted cheekbone from the weekend’s game:

Pic. via @RealBigdell

All this is doing is confirming our conclusions from the Great Fantasy League experiment of 2009. Hot people are FRAGILE. It’s just science.

As for south of Sydney, the Raiders haven’t named Terry Campese to play this week, which breaks our hearts a little. We love his long-range kicks and his comical Cheshire Cat grin. On the bright side, it leaves him free to continue bringing his special brand of off-field civvies glamour to our nation’s capital:


Pic via
Canberra Raiders

Meanwhile in Sydney’s glorious West, the Parra Eels are bringing the glamour back to coach travel:

via Tim Mannah

Naw, he’s like a sleeping angel!

And if the boys from the lonely island have taught us anything through the magic of song, it’s that nothing is more glamorous than a boat.

Exhibit A:

Just like how Fergie from the Black Eyed Peas taught us that G-L-A-M-O-R-O-U-S involves flying first class, up in the sky.

This explains why the Queensland Origin team made their own salute to glamour in the form of a special trip in Careflight’s rescue boats and lifty things. See, they’re just like the gondola chairlifts at a ski resort! Except, you know, bright yellow and made of plastic. And in a pool.

Billy heard the lyrics “flossy, flossy” and did his best Flossy Nightingale expression.



Ben Hannant still goes to Taco Bell, Drives through, raw yeah

JT wants to know just who the hell thinks he’s not still real. WHO? HE’S STILL JT FROM THE BLOCK.

Special thanks to the amazing Fall of Reach for bringing us the magic of Carty and the Sausage Roll incident! xx

older posts

5 

errol pick’n'mix: the best thing about pre-season is the kayaking

December 9th, 2010

Have things been a little quiet around here? Not gonna lie, totally our fault. We’ve been busier than an *insert old man Aussie metaphor about flies or paper-hangers or something here*

But thankfully this week footy made a triumphant return (of sorts) into our lives: we hit up the NRL One Community Christmas party to at least get a little bit of an NRL fix. The party is basically a period of three awesome hours where a whole bunch of special kids and a handful of players from each of the Sydney clubs turn up to sit at kid-sized tables, probably share their opinions on the wikileaks scandal, eat kid-sized sandwiches, then play some mothereffin ten pin bowling.

Why is seeing footy players do non-footy activities so inherently hilarious? Because the second we saw Kade Snowden put his bowling shoes on we lost it.

But even while we’ve been slack with our writing, we haven’t stopped being inherently embarassing. We’re still us.

We arrived at the party in Christmas crowns and reindeer ears then proceeded to asked David Gallop what he wanted for Christmas and show Roy Asotasi photos of Kiki and her flattie Yasmin’s pet bunny … Roy Asotasi.

The resemblance is uncanny.

His first question was: “Why is he so … ginger?”

It’s a good question, Roy. And to be honest, I don’t have a good answer for you. I suspect it’s because none of us felt sure that it wasn’t kind of politically awkward, frankly, to ring up a bunny breeder and ask for a brown-coloured bunny so the girls could name it after a New Zealander with Samoan heritage. Is it? Who knows.

The bottom line is that Roy is a pretty little ginger, and Preston Campbell the bunny is a giant brown bunny that seriously dwarfs bunny-Roy.

To this, Roy said that he hopes Roy makes up for his small stature by being awesome.

And you also don’t have to worry, while we’ve been slack with our writing, we also haven’t gotten any more functional. Yesterday I left the Christmas party, realised I lost my parking validation ticket, had to pay a $40 lost fee, and was comforted by a nice old passing Hungarian man.

Looking back, maybe this is why I was subconsciously distracted and knocked a giant two-armed monitor stand of a desk as soon as I arrived in the building, then had to climb under a desk to attempt to reattach it while relative strangers held the monitors still. Sorry for wearing a skirt that day, y’all.

I also realise, looking back, that a flippy little floral skirt was a bad choice on one of the windiest days in history. Apologies to the people of Pyrmont to whom I showed my undies at least nine times.

I like to think I make up for all these mishaps by being awesome, like Roy Asotasi the bunny.

And while we were busy watching Anthony Watmough bowl like a professional (seriously, he’s really good) and the Tigers players eat all the sandwiches, the clubs have been busy with the start of pre-season training. Pre-season training is such a beautiful phrase. For one thing, it means it’s ALMOST FOOTY TIME AGAIN.

It also means it’s time for the annual NRL rookie camp, where they teach young boys how to play footy or be men … or something. We’re not really sure, and maybe we don’t want to know. All we really need to know is that it involves instructional powerpoint presentations like this:

At least, that’s what they did back in 2008. Maybe they don’t use the WHY TALENT IS NEVER ENOUGH … EVER slide anymore. Maybe the curriculum’s changed by now, and they have powerpoint slides telling the boys YOU WILL NEVER HAVE A GIRLFRIEND or YOU LOOK FAT IN THOSE PANTS. It’s just all about building confidence, you know?

But maybe best of all, this is the time of year when they make footy teams do embarassing things as a group all in the name of team bonding.

Pic. Gregg Porteous via News Limited

Well of course that’s Jamal Idris in an abseiling helmet. Of course it is. Because the Bulldogs were sent to Wombaroo to get their bond on. I totally went there for year six camp. I wonder if they had to spend a night out camping in tents and cook pasta with tinned tuna on a camp stove?

One things for sure, footy players always have to get in kayaks. It’s just maths:

2 men that weigh 100kgs + 1 flimsy plastic vessel designed for children = instant lolz.

Pic. Gregg Porteous via News Limited

Ahoy there Bryson Goodwin! Looking sharp.

Pic. Gregg Porteous via News Limited

That photo of Ben Barba is slightly less hilarious because it really freaks me out that the kayak behind is empty. Is anyone else getting some serious ‘The River Wild’ kinda flashbacks? Did Kevin Bacon kill the rest of the Bulldogs because they refused to lend him their rafting skills to escape from the law?

And in Canberra, Raiders management timed their comical bonding activites perfectly so Tommy Learoyd-Lahrs could do them with a moustache. Bravo, Canberra. Bravo.

Whenever I feel sad I’m gonng look at that picture and remember the fact that Dave Shilington and Brett White had to row a kayak together. Also, that Tommy LL gave a completely serious interview about how well he did in the flag-race.

Learoyd-Lahrs, though, wasn’t contemplating a switch to the Ironman circuit anytime soon.

”There wasn’t any great speed reached there,” he said.

”If you timed us with a sun dial it probably would’ve stopped.”

Footy, we miss you too, too much.

older posts

2 

footy observations: some singing, a lot o’ sadness

November 10th, 2010

This is so sad to write. You know we don’t usually like talking about league scandals just for the sake of it, but there’s an elephant in the room, and it’s named Joel Monaghan. Seems like Monas is leaving the NRL in the ickiest of circumstances, doing for the word “simulated” what Nate Myles did for “defecated”. All we can say is when we met him, Monas seemed like a genuinely good-hearted, hilarious guy and we think it was the most selfless and dignified option to think of his club instead of himself and leave the Raiders.

We’re getting John John to send him a good luck basket of gerberas and balloons and kisses from us all. And another one for T.Camps because God knows those two live in each others’ pockets like Kiki and I do.

And for everyone who keeps googling the story, you won’t find it here. Seriously. Not kidding. If we weren’t gonna post the infamous Wang Dance video, we weren’t gonna post this.

And the worst thing is, we can’t even distract you with posts about the game between PNG and the Poms on the weekend because we missed it. In our defence, THE BEST LITTLE WHOREHOUSE IN TEXAS WAS ON TV! Only one of the greatest films ever made, starring our idol Dolly Parton and that hairy-chested dreamboat Burt Reynolds. If you haven’t watched a whole Texan gridiron team linedance semi-naked or sing in a steam-room about seeing hookers, you haven’t lived.

Thank me later, y’all.

What we can do is give you a quick round-up of what Australia and New Zealand have been doing during and after their clash on Saturday night. Frank-Paul Nuuausala has discovered the joys of millinery:

And Flossy Nightingale … is still flossy.

Pics. Getty Images

The Kiwis debuted a slightly rusty club 12″ extended mix of the Haka to mixed reviews, Greg Bird continued to provide some of the mist hilarious facial expressions in rugby league history, Billy Slater and Tom Learoyd-Lahrs grew kick-ass mos, New Zealand foxed their way into a loss, and the fact that Brent Tate and Willie Tonga are the Australian centres continued to cause arguments in Errol HQ. At one point Work Experience Boy Lachie threw his jam bagel down in disgust and told us our constant arguing made him get distracted and miss Packed to the Rafters.

ALL YOU NEED TO KNOW IS DON’T TEXT AND DRIVE, LACHLAN.

Now, if you’ll excuse us, we have to go and compile our Very Important All-Stars teams for next year’s game. Wayne Bennett was interviewed and told everyone to try and “think like him” while they choose.

Now I’ve never met Uncle Wayne personally, but I’ve seen him having a chat and he seems like a pretty happy dude, so when he says think the way he does, I’m pretty sure it looks something like:

I’m totally voting for muppet Brett Morris.

Pic Kirk Gilmour

older posts

12 

a little dose of monday awkward

June 21st, 2010

Never read Errol before? Then you might not realise that we often find ourselves in awkward situations. Like the time we had to interview John Cartwright in a food court outside MacDonalds.

Or the time I had to go out on the field at Leichhardt Oval after a NSW Cup game to interview the players. Instead of walking around to the big gate, I decided to just step over the little fence in front of the Grandstand …. and got stuck on it. Literally. Right leg on the field, left leg in the stands, and the crotch of my opaque tights snagged on a curl of wire on the top of the fence. Have you ever tried to unsnag the crotch of a pair of tights from a mini-hurricane fence in front of two NSW Cup teams, while holding a giant video camera bag in one hand and a tripod in the other? It was … elegant.

Apparently we have some kind of embarassing NSW cup reggies mojo going on at Leichhardt Oval in particular cause it keeps getting Kiki too. When the Tigers played Wests she tripped over her thong running to get an interview and fell face-first onto the concrete walkway in front of a terrified and aghast Robbie Farah.

When the Tigers played the Central Coast Centurions she found herself standing in line at the kiosk window waiting for a snack. All of a sudden she realised – and if you know Kiki you’ll know that this made her really, really happy – that there were cheesedogs on the menu.

If Tim Sheens is reading this it must be like looking in a mirror.

CHEESEDOGS!

She exclaimed with joy, just as the man at the front of the queue turned around to leave and came face to face with her.

You know that moment when a person turns around and you realise you recognise them, so say “Hi! [Insert name here]! It’s you!”  Well, it was just like that.

Except that the man, friends, wasn’t a friend of ours. It was Tim Sheens. And, well, we’ve never met Tim Sheens. Also, Tim Sheens is generally known as either Tim Sheens, or ‘Sheensy’, no? And no, she didn’t say ‘SHEENSY’. Instead she literally yelled CHEESEDOGS in Tim Sheens’ face. He looked mortified. It was mortifying. And now, forevermore, we will call him Tim “Cheesedogs” Sheens.


… nyello, Cheesedogs speaking?
Pic. Getty Images

And now we have a new Special Moment to add to the Big Book of Errol Awkward: the time Sassy sms-ed Ryan Girdler. Remember Girds? The Penrith champion, ladies’ fave, former tv star and generally super-nice human being? the boys at Rugby League Player mag kindly let us do an interview with him for the next issue, knowing that we think he’s talented/lovely/interesting etc. We couldn’t get him on the phone to begin with, so I saved his number to try again.


Pic. Getty Images

That weekend, a good friend hit a bit of a rough spot: the kind that needs cocktails and hugs and other things of that nature. So I wrote a message that I’m 99% sure said:

“Hi babe, obviously I’m a bit out of the loop, but sending you all my love darlin xx s”

THEN I SENT IT TO RYAN GIRDLER. KILL ME NOW. At least I didn’t realise for like five days so I had five days of blissful ignorance. Why am I so embarassing?

Even Mitchell Pearce, the Patron Saint of Looking Awkward in Photos, doesn’t have any answers.
Pic. Getty Images

But anyway, let’s talk about footy and how it totally soothed the pain of being a really embarassing human.

My chookies were playing the bye this week (it was a close finish, but they kicked its ass) so I could watch the games without stressing and goddamn they were good. Not good if you are a fan of: ball control, defence, good refereeing, or the Sharks, but good for me.

Dragons vs Sharks, Sea Eagles vs Rabbitohs, Tigers vs Raiders: three of the most exciting games I’ve watched this year.

And apparently for the Tigers it was one of the best games to play all year, because Nips Farah got so excited he actually ran to the crowd for high-fives. NIPS TOUCHED PEOPLE! He never touches people! It’s proof that even after your team murders eight tries in eighty minutes, miracles can still happen at the Lilyfield Rectangle.

Special love from that game goes to Chris Heighington, for being a beast and playing like one; to Nips, for bein’ Nips; and to Jarrod Croker and Joel Thompson for representing for the baby Raiders.

Whee! I helped!

Pic. Getty Images

Footy also helped because, as always, awkward shit happened. Awkward and hilarious shit, mainly thanks to Jason ‘Flossy’ Nightingale. Not only did he get completely outraged after a Sharks player tackled him off the field and kneed him in the buttock, he then scored one of the top ten most hilarious tries in history. Trapped between two Sharks, he looked around shiftily, bit his lip, reached out his arm like he was trying to stealthily steal something from a museum, and gently puffed the ball onto the line. It was pure Flossy magic. We rewound it and rewatched it four times.


…. Yoink!


Did I do good?

Screencaps thanks to the awesomeness that is Australia Votes.

Happy Monday, kids!

older posts

10 

man-kissing, hot chips and adventures in canberra

June 13th, 2010

Well, that was an eventful few weeks. We leave the internet for 10 days and all hell breaks loose.

What was meant to happen in the last week was this: we would head down to our nation’s capital for the Raiders vs Titans, do a little bit of work, relax a little, maybe hit up Questacon or ride bikes around Lake Burley-Griffin, and head home. Then we’d do some typey-typey for some new projects we’re working on and come back to Errol as if nothing had happened.

BUT NO.

In the interim league went fucking insane. First Billy Slater and Jarryd Hayne got involved in a Melbourne vs Parramatta headbutt spite-fest at Parramatta Stadium. This, as we all know led to the Gayest Fight in Football History.

No, we don’t mean ‘gay’ as a derogatory term. We love gays. We mean it literally. Fierce bitch Cooper Cronk was not having any of this, and ran in to protect his fullback Billy Slater. Have you seen his face? We wouldn’t want anyone headbutting it either. He’s adorable. So far, so logical.

We saw Cooper running in … then Cooper diving onto Headbutt Hayne, and then ….

ARE THEY MAKING OUT? (yes, we did actually yell that at the tv).

Apparently the internet was equally confused/amused, because a complete genius came up with this:

Oh internet, how we love you.

We also especially enjoyed when Cam Smith gave the world a lesson in sportsmanship. First he yelled at the ref “WE CAN’T WIN THE PREMIERSHIP, WHO CARES WHAT WE DO?” He then threw an Errol-worthy tantrum and quit that whole shit.

Can’t win? Don’t try.

We can’t wait till that image is used in motivational posters in offices all over Melbourne.

And, of course, the tension resulted in two of the prettiest boys in history to ever share the sin-bin: Dan Dan Mortimer and Billy Slater. Surely people that pretty don’t belong in the bin? Evidently Billy agrees, because bitch was pissed.

The dramas didn’t stop at Parra vs Storm, though. There have feelingz happening all over the NRL. At Brookie, injury is taking it’s toll on Dave Williams. The man that … well, people who aren’t us like to call ‘the Wolfman’, is not dealing well with being a sideline fixture.

We interviewed Daveypants 2 weeks ago for the NRL and he seems so, so sad. His poor little arm is still in a sling and he is the saddest panda of all pandas in history. It took all our strength not to hug him.

It’s no suprise he has turned to comfort eating. Specifically, comfort eating chips on the sideline. The saddest part of all was when he offered one to Jamie Lyon and was brutally rebuffed. WAY TO MAKE HIM FEEL LIKE A PIG, JAMIE.

Meanwhile we were down in the Nation’s capital hustling and getting ready to watch the Raiders vs Titans. In a moment of perfect timing by the universe, we needed to interview the baby Raiders AND Titan’s coach John Cartwright. So on Sunday morning we headed off the pick up Carty and take him for a coffee and a chat. The only problem? Literally NOTHING is open in Canberra at 9.30am in Canberra.

What the hell, ACT? It was like a nuclear apocalypse took place and no one told us.

Not even WANGS massage was open, although at least it gave us a few lolz.

In the end, intrepid Carty led us into a food court, to find a tiny tiny window called the House of Vitality. Kiki ordered a diet coke, to which Carty said “a Diet Coke? …. for breakfast? Shouldn’t you at least have a normal coke for nutritional value?”

Kiki’s only answer was SHUT UP I’M HUNGOVER. She ordered the Diet Coke anyway.

What’s more glamorous than doing an interview with an NRL coach in a food court? Pretty much nothing. For reals.

Next stop was Bruce Stadium for Raiders vs Titans. For Sydney girls, going to Bruce Stadium is so … so weird. Actually, Canberra is weird to us. It’s all organised, and tidy, and convenient. All the suburbs have different names, but they’re only like two blocks apart and EVERYTHING IS SO CHEAP.

Two voddies and a beer for $12? $5 parking at the footy? $13 for a pizza and two Diet Cokes? Yes, please. It’s developing world prices without all the pesky airline travel and vaccinations.

As we drove into the Bruce Stadium carpark a friendly dude pointed out that Sassy’s bonnet was askew and maybe not closed properly. When she admitted it was just wonky from her bad driving, he came out with I HIT A KANGAROO ONCE. IT’S HEAD POPPED RIGHT OFF. I KILLED IT, BY THE WAY. Oh, Canberra. Nothing cheers us up like an animal decapitation story. Turns out it really did make Sassy feel better about her driving.

That, and a stadium with seats close enough to hear the OOF when two men tackles.

Wait, make that a decapitation, Bruce Stadium, and our new bestie in the next row down.

We asked Josh McCrone about this: “… definitely from Queanbeyan. He’s probably Campo’s neighbour”.

Then as a farewell to the ‘Berra, we met a few of the baby Raiders for interviews after recovery on Monday: Jarrod Croker, Daniel Vidot, Josh McCrone and Shaun Fensom. WE ARE IN LOVE. Four of the most hilarious, humble footy players you’ll meet (if you ignore Dan Vidot’s love for a glamorous self-portrait. He really, really loves them. Especially if they involve shirtlessness, which is fair enough. Have you seen him? He’s a total spunk).

McCrone and Crokes – actually all the boys really – are fucking hilarious. Shaun Fensom managed to burn Kiki within ten seconds of meeting her. We like his hustle. We also especially enjoyed Croker and Vidot taking the piss out of each other about their Adventures in Hair Highlights.

Apologies to the boys for springing it ON TAPE that some of them are gay icons, and to Shaun Fensom in particular for Kiki stroking his pretty hair like a massive creep. The trickiest part was convincing them to have their photos taken to go with the story – Dan Vidot only wanted pre-approved images that he’d had taken earlier included in the mag. He’s so J.Lo. We loves him

And Crokes was traumatised because his hair looked ‘shit’ (it didn’t, it looked messy and cute…bed hair!), he hadn’t shaved, and his shorts were soaking wet. “But I’ve got a beard! Can’t you come back another day and take them?”

NO. WE’RE NOT DRIVING THREE HOURS AGAIN.

But probably the highlight of our trip was telling Trevor Thurling of the huge section of his fan base who refer to him as Trevor “Sex Machine” Thurling.

According to google, this is what a Sex Machine looks like:


Trevor, is that you?

This story led to us hearing Shaun Fensom utter the words “yeah, I lived with a family when I first got here, now I live with Sex Machine”. Awesome.

Try not to die waiting, but the story will be out in the next issue of Rugby League Player mag. and in the meantime, here’s a picture of Josh McCrone being a hilarious human and posing comically in front of a palm tree. So awesome. Doesn’t he look like Prince Harry? He totally looks like Prince Harry. Till next time kittens! xx

Big thanks to our favourite media manager and one of our favourite humans, Ben Pollack, for hooking us up the whole weekend. And thankyou to the boys for being generally awesome. WE LOVE YOU RAIDERS!

Thanks to the brilliant Cronkster for the caps. LEGEND!

older posts

3 

hello friendz

June 9th, 2010

Okay, we get the point. You guys want more blogs. But unfortunately for y’all, this pesky thing called life keeps getting in the way. We have also been rendered video impotent due to a gang of bastards that broke into Sassy’s house and stole our camera (yeh, really).

But never fear. Some good stuff is coming up soon. We spent last weekend in Canberra hangin with the adorable Raiders, the awesome friendly locals and taking full advantage of their insanely cheap drinks.

Also, we are thinking about doing some podcasts. Try and control your excitement please!

And, in case you were all wondering, I AM SO GLAD BEAU SCOTT IS PLAYING ORIGIN. I’ve been saying this for literally a year, finally the selectors are listening to me. His selection clearly has nothing to do with his form, and everything to do with me. Much like everything else in rugby league. Learn this.

Will be blogging soon, promise.

older posts

6 

postcards from port macquarie: day three

May 6th, 2010

Here you have it, a very special edition of Errol TV. It was Sassy’s birthday, it was our first romantic sunset filming, we met a man CALLED ERROL … and we got you interviews with the hilarious Joel Thompson and Tom Learoyd-Lahrs from the Canberra Raiders. Our favourite part? When we get Tom Learoyd-Lahrs to make fun of his Raiders media manager (also the Country media manager) Ben Pollack. Also, when Tom Learoyd-Lahrs … exists.

Hope y’all like it!

older posts

9 

hot man news : the raiders edition

March 24th, 2010

YOU READ IT RIGHT BITCHES. THE HOT MAN NEWS IS BACK. Why now, you ask? Well it’s occured to me that this blog has become somewhat G-rated of late and I don’t like it.  To quote Gough Whitlam - “It’s Time”. It’s time for for the innate perve in us all to make it’s grand return.

But before we get to that, let’s briefly take a moment to appreciate the genius above. It’s literal, juvenile and crappily constructed. It’s Oh Errol.

(Note – I googled ‘man on fire’ and got a varied selection of things. Including a disturbing amount of photos of self immolation including one entitled “Romanian Gypsy on fire”.  Well that’s not very cheery now, is it?)

Anyway! On with the hot! So obviously the Dragons are my beloved and I adore them like my own children (especially B.Moz, I actually think I Love Him Like A Son). But I do kinda-sorta-adore another team. And that team is…….THE RAIDERS. Do you feel special Green Machine?

Oh I’ll give you the hottest ride in town.

I just like watching them play. I have a soft spot for them. And if I was a guy, I would also have a hard spot. GET IT. COZ OF BONERS. Now despite his infamous hair iss-u-eewwes, we are totally T.Camps mad here at Errol HQ. We just think he’s lovely. He is very old school handsome. Very traditionally masculine and all that. We also like how he feels the need to check that his junk is still attached while at training.

Hell YES Tez, work it out bitch. If there’s anything sexier than a man grabbing his dick while slathered in zinc and wearing a bucket hat, I am yet to see it. Am I being sarcastic? I don’t even know any more.

Now let’s talk about Joel Thompson. I will admit I had absolutely no idea who this bloke was until I spied him looking all sweaty and spunky at the first Indigenous All Stars training we went to. Errrr… I mean, I was admiring his athletic ability….and stuff. Anyway, he’s got cute monotremey type hair and a certain swagger about him.  And Sassy agrees he’s the sex in a kind of “I may or may not steal your car after our dates over” kind of way.

After some more intensive research on my part (I am a committed journalist if nothing else), I have discovered why we felt an immediate kinship with him. It’s because, how do I put this gently….he is kind of retarded. And we say this with much love, because anyone who has a) read Errol or b) been around us for more than 30 seconds soon realises we are challenged in many many ways. If we were footy players, we would totally end up doing the following -

Suddenly realising our nip nips are a bit sore after a busy day of training.

Further discovering that we may in fact have a serious nipple injury on our hands. And end up being snapped looking super bloated in the process.

Being obviously mortified after having a trainer tape up said nipple injury in front of our teammates.

Now despite both looking ethnically mysterious, Sassy and I are actually both from Irish peasant backgrounds so needless to say we have had more than a few suncare issues over the years.

Once such incident occured whilst on holiday in Fiji. We were so hungover on the second last day we spent 9 hours in the water to keep cool so we didn’t vom all over the pretty white sand. Unfortunately the fact that water is transparent and sunlight can get to you while you’re floating about didn’t occur to us. Until we woke up the next morning and literally couldn’t walk straight because we were so sunburnt. Subsequently we had to fly home braless and wearing nothing but sarongs as regular clothes hurt too much. Apologies to Air Pacific and Australian Customs.

This is why, once again, we totally feel you Joel.

” Slippity, sloppity…SLAP! Nothing will penetrate this zinc forcefield of mine!”

“……………..shit.”

Oh, Joel. Drop by the office one day, will ya? You will be with your own kind.

Now onto Josh Dugan. In a completely unexpected turn of events:  Dimples Dugan is hot now. Not cute or adorable or nawww ain’t he sweet like he used to be. Nope. He’s removed the headgear and has morphed into one of Errol’s fave things. A HOT BOGAN. The plethora of tattoos, nasal vowels when speaking, the earrings, the semi- douchey- haircut-that-somehow-works-for him = hot bogan.

Now this is not an insult by any means. Because you know who else is a Hot Bogan? HOT BITCH COOPER. That’s right HB, you have an heir to the throne. Behold readers, I present to you, Junior Hot Bitch.

La la laaaa….

One of these things is not like the others,

One of these things just doesn’t belong,

Can you tell which thing is not like the others

By the time I finish my song? …………la la laaaaaaaa!

And with that, I’m out. Stay tuned cupcakes because there’s plenty more Raiders hot to come. I haven’t even got to Tom ‘is that a brother or what’ Learoyd-Lahrs.

Pics from The Canberra Times and FMF Forums. Thanks boys, we love ya!

older posts

17 

footy observations: fishies in water

April 7th, 2009

So we’re officially back in footy season, hurrah! And obviously we don’t just bring you our incredibly informative game recaps, we also like to hook you up with what the teams get up to at training and recovery. 

If nothing else, it should help you with your tips.

You certainly shouldn’t listen to me and my ‘intuition’, because after round 4 I am now sitting on an average of just over four correct tips a week.  Four!  Out of Eight!  

Do you know what that means? It means that my brain … my human brain, that biological miracle, that unbelievably complex labyrinth of nerve and synapse; when it comes to tipping, using my brain is pretty much as effective as using a coin.  My brain is no smarter than a small round disc made of brass. True story.

Anyway. Last week it was all about the water recovery session. And I’ve realised you can pretty much track the boys progress by their water sessions. Check out the Raiders last week rocking out in the Canberra aquatic center:

Is T Camps … singing? Why I do believe he is. Just bustin out a few showtunes as he jogs around the lap pool. Washing away the memory of getting beaten by the Eels and that bitch of a ref who disallowed their AWESOME split-scrum try.

And just look at the boys rocking out in the background.  For some reason we especially love the thought of Trevor Thurling joining in.  Or as some of our fans like to call him, Sexmachine Trevor Thurling.


There really IS nothin like a dame!

End result: a reinvigorated attack and glorious victory over the Cowboys down in Canberra.

Compare and contrast Boromir from Lord of the Rings Nathan Hindmarsh over at the Eels’ recovery:

No one ever wants to re-enact Grease with me.


… and if they do I never get to be Kenicki.

and the happy-clappy Roosters having superfuntimes rolling around on the grass at Moore Park:

How happy is Shaun Kenny-Dowall?  He just REALLY LOVES ROLLING.  I tried so so hard to stay pissed off at the Roosters after their loss to the Tigers, then I saw this and … I can’t stay mad at you babies.  Especially you Shaun Kenny-Dowall.  I adore him.  I have no idea why, I JUST DO.  

We even have a special Errol nickname for him that I’m only allowed to yell from the sideline and not allowed to say on Errol.  The girls have forbidden me, because … well because it sounds kind of offensive.  But I swear I SAY IT WITH LOVE.

And the point is this: when the miserable pool-going Parra came up against the We!Love!Rolling! Roosters at the SFS, the Roosters took those bitches down.  A happy team is a winning team. It’s just Fact. You can’t argue with science!

So I’m going to save you, oh, about 2 seconds indecision, and tell you not to waste your money on the Sharks this weekend. Bitches are miserable. Just look at them:

Toops looks like he really regrets not being able to stick with the Roosters and roll his cares away. He is so going home to eat an entire cheesecake and pass out in a food coma in his boxers. Ben Pomeroy also probably has several bruises.

The Pom has difficulty walking with flippers. Even though the flippers aren’t on his feet.

And I’m gonna put my money on the Dragons too. For one thing because Jamie ‘Tiny Dancer’ Soward and Baby Chase Stanley look like happy little kids out there on their surfboards. But also because Lozzy might cut me if I don’t.

You see Jamie Soward has worked his mojo on Lozzy. He won her over with his cheeky grin and the little dance he does before he kicks for goal.  You know the one: the chicken dance in a circle, followed by the march, the pause, and the little prance as he kicks.  The one Phil Gould describes as ‘like my cat about to do a shit’. Why do you think we call him Tiny Dancer?

Well it seems Tiny Dancer is rapidly catching up to T Camps as her favourite footy player, and I always have to support the girls’ teams. I’m a good friend like that.

older posts

23 

sunday arvo recap: roosters vs raiders

March 26th, 2009

So the boys are playing this match down in our Nation’s capital, Canberra, which means that for the last week foxtel has been bombarding me with ads where Alan Tongue stands in front of the camera in his turtle headgear and announces that the Roosters are in for “… SOME CAPITAL PUNISHMENT”.

As a footy follower, do you know what I love? PUNS ABOUT THE DEATH PENALTY. I love them almost as much as when players are forced to do embarassing promos. Heart.


Note: this is a completely arbitrary pic of Alan Tongue. I could have used a recent one, but I prefer this. I like how it looks like he and Monaghan are waiting anxiously to go into Court on trial for public rangadom. BUT WE CAN’T HELP IT YOUR HONOR!

The Raiders are milling about in the change-room looking cheery and relaxed, except for David Shillington, who mainly just looks skinny. SO SKINNY!  I feel a little bit worried. Do they not have pies in Canberra?

Mmmmmmm pie.

Note to self: send Shillo a care package of four-and-twenties.

The Roosters are standing like unwilling refugees in the away change-room, and J Aubs looks a little like he might vom. On the bright side they have some new super-cute jerseys with little white collars and mini v-necks. I approve. Minichiello has his collar popped, possibly because Terry Biviano jjuzhjed him before they left the house, possibly because he actually really enjoys being referred to as the Count and is just running with the look.


Ees possible!

The boys run on field and something amazing happens: The Roosters don’t suck.  

The forwards are running forward with something that looks like confidence and determination, and somehow even though the Raiders have totally been bogarting the possession of the ball … there are no points on the board.  I believe this is what was missing last week, and I believe it’s called … ‘defence’. Hallelujah!

Pic. Glen McCurtayne

That’s when I remember I actually tipped the Raiders and I feel confused and guilty and kind of like the roosters must know that I was disloyal.  I’M SORRY.

Note to self: find way to make it up to the Roosters. Consider fruit flowers?

Pic. Glen McCurtayne

 
Minichiello grabs the ball and prances through defenders only to be brought down just before the try line. It’s an awkward pile-up of a tackle and Mini comes out of it looking like he’s riding on Space Mountain and holding his leg in a really worrying way.

Even though he’s limping like a half eaten gazelle he shoos away the trainer and stays on the field. Oh, Mini, you so brave. I love you even though you have a body made of glass now and haven’t played a full season for at least two years.  I’m not even being sarcastic, I really do. I just wish you weren’t made of delicate delicate parts like Rod Wishart.

Peg-leg Minichiello moves out on the wing and in the next Roosters set he staggers across the line with his popped collar like a hunchback to score a try.  AMAZING! TRY BY THE ONE-LEGGED MAN!

Mitchell Pearce can’t manage a conversion but he can manage a really random kick out on the full a few minutes later. Luckily, he is now signed to the Roosters until 2012, which means plenty of time to work on that tricky kicking business.


Mitchell needs some more study times on the big book of no-nos.
Pic. Getty Images.

The Raiders kick and Mitchell Aubusson looks over his shoulder then decides the best way to stop Joel Monaghan grabbing it is to leap sideways and use his butt to deflect Monas.  It’s kind of … graceful.  Balletic, even! I like to think M Aubs is a massive fan of So You Think You Can Dance and has been practicing this at home with J Aubs.

Both teams start passing to mid-air and dropping the ball and this feels a lot more like last week. Frank-Paul Nuuasala is on field and gets all ghetto when he’s pushed around in a tackle. Whut, whut? He is thisclose to ripping someone’s weave out.

The Roosters also show what they thought of Shillo’s comments during the week and David Milne is shocked.


OH NO HE DI-INT!

Justin Carney takes out the Mayan King Soliola while he’s in mid-air and Braith Anasta isn’t having any of it. Oooh, biff! Well, at least as close as you can get to biff in 2009, which is grabbing people’s jerseys and pushing then a little bit. Maybe sometimes kicking them in the thigh like Colin Firth and Hugh Grant in Bridget Jones’ Diary. Braith then taps the ref really condescendingly on the shoulder and a little bit of my love dies.

Justin Carney also somehow has Jamie Soward’s hair on as a kind of hair-hat. Halftime, 4-0.

The Raiders botch two great try opportunities and try and reach some kind of record for turnovers. Shaun Kenny-Dowall pops in for a revenge try on the left wing, and Josh Miller and Mark O’Meley collide with a massive smack like two giant towel men made of wet towels. The towel men have a little trip to Disneyland and we replay the collision three times on Foxtel IQ because we are gross and creepy.

At this point I think I can sum up the rest of the game by saying: Braith Anasta loses his damn mind.

It all starts when he dives to tackle David Milne right on the try-line and manages to be dragged sideways so that he runs crotch-first and horizontally into the comically cow-print goalposts. Ten minutes later when he finally manages to struggle to his feet he bends over to check on his boys … maybe gently remind them that this kinda stuff happens in footy.

But Braith Anasta’s crotch is having none of this. Braith Anasta’s crotch is MAD AS HELL AND NOT GONNA TAKE IT ANYMORE.

Pic. Glen McCurtayne

Don’t worry, he doesn’t actually rip T Camp’s head off.

Instead, Braith Anasta’s crotch sends in Mitchell Pearce for a try. Then Braith Anasta’s crotch leaps over Justin Carney in the in-goal and miraculously grounds a ball right on the dead ball line for another try.

Just to rub it in Canberra’s face, Braith Anasta’s crotch finishes his decimation of the Raiders by intercepting a pass and running 40 metres to score a single-crotch try. Fitzy converts for 28-0.

At this point, Bronson Harrison manages a sneaky last-minute Green Machine try, but Braith Anasta’s crotch doesn’t give a shit. Braith Anasta’s crotch then gives the whole of Canberra the forks … game over, bitches. 28-4.

older posts

next page of posts