It’s just a fiesta of a week this week. It’s as though the Universe designed it specifically with me in mind. WHAT WOULD SASSY LIKE TO SEE?

Well it pretty much goes like this:

1. FOOTY’S BACK!

The NRL made it official that the footy season is back with a booze-free launch extravaganza on Wednesday (also known as a Brett Stewart drylaunch). Oh, football, my sweaty, infuriating, sometimes violent boyfriend. I’m so glad you’re back.

I’m also so glad that you decided to announce your return by making all the team’s captains and representatives stand in full uniform on a barge in the middle of Sydney harbour with a huge mock NRL trophy. Yes, people, this is what happiness looks like:

Pic. Ryan Osland

Also, HI ALAN TONGUE. We think you’re lovely!

And David Gallop and Jarryd-with-a-Y Hayne made it official by making some fantastically cheesy jokes to the media:

… there was little alcohol or glitz and glamour when the NRL did so again yesterday.

Just bad jokes.

ASKED if he felt the Eels had a stronger team this season than when he led them on their stunning run to last year’s grand final, Jarryd Hayne told reporters: ”Yeah, a lot of the boys can lift a lot more weights, so they’re stronger.’

”There’s no truth to the rumour that Willie [Mason] and I will be doing a reality dieting show in the boardrooms of Australia, called My Boardroom Rules,” said NRL chief executive David Gallop in reference to Mason’s criticism of the ”fat businessmen” on the Roosters board who wanted him out of the club.

Oh, DG. I actually have no idea if he has any kids, but based on that joke I now feel certain that he has both kids (cause that was a total dad joke) and a fucking sweet idea for a TV franchise. My Boardroom Rules? Yes please.

Wes Carr can write the theme song. Rexona and Powerade can be the sponsors. And DG and Big Willie can be the new Simon Cowell and Ryan Seacrest, trading barbs while my brother and I sit on the couch, eat vegemite toast and talk about how we suspect they’re secretly having a bromance. I like to think Big Willie will dismiss the fatcats who haven’t lost enough weight by looking them up and down and announcing: “Big Willie pronounces you … TOO BIG.”

In other news I also feel certain that Lozzy would’ve laughed at those NRL launch jokes. Go on and comment and prove me, right Lozzy. Prove me right.

2. CRY ME A RIVER

Remember how amusing I thought it was when Steggles started sponsoring the Roosters? Manly obviously took that as a comedy challenge and made a special announcement this week on their website:

RECEIVE A FREE TISSUE PACK WITH EVERY ONLINE MERCHANDISE ORDER!

There are so many ways that I love this promotion. It’s perfect for everyone! For Manly fans to cry into when their team loses, and for Silvertail-haters to snot into when they have hideous infectious colds. You can even wave them as white surrender flags when the DJ starts playing Eagle Rock again at Brookie. MAKE IT STOPPPP!

3. DOGS NAMED AFTER PEOPLE ARE THE BEST KINDA DOGS

So apparently I’ve found the future boyfriend for my dog this week. You know, my dog. Dolly Parton the greyhound. Because some excellent human has named their greyhound after Taniela Tuiaiki.

Pic. Mark Evans

I totally see the resemblance. It’s the muscular ass, right?

According to the Tank:

“It was a bit of a shock when I heard that there was a greyhound named after me. It’s something that doesn’t happen every day.”

Well-spotted, Tank. It doesn’t happen every day. Footy players being literal is one of my favourite things.

Now all I need is for Zac Efron to ask me over for a platonic night of snuggles and Disney movies and all my prayers will have been answered. Call me, Zef.

Notice anything different about me? YES, THAT’S RIGHT, KIDS. I AM FEELING EXTRA SMUG TODAY.

One of my top twenty favourite things in life is Being Right. I’m basically an idiot and – to be honest – it doesn’t happen very often, so when it happens twice in one week I get some extra swagger in my havaianas.

Remember last week when I warned Knights fans that this year they were stuck at the bottom of the wheel of footy fates and they should spend the rest of the year in their backyard bunkers?

I think the Knights should just accept that they are the new Roosters (who were the new Bulldogs) and will suffer calamity all year. Just hibernate for the next 12 months. As a Roosters fan, trust me, it’s not worth the psychological trauma of staying awake.

No it wasn’t just a brief, horrible dream. You really are the new Roosters. The latest news is that Danny Wicks’ scooter buddy Chris Houston has been charged with drug offences by police and stood down. Which means, well, badtimes for him. But more importantly, no more jokes about him looking like an old-timey blacksmith for us. It’s always the bloggers who suffer.

As the voice of experience though, I’m here for you darlings. I know the pain. I made it through 2009. Sure, I lost a few brain cells from incessantly banging my head against the nearest supporting wall, but then I found out that also burns calories. WIN.

And if you follow the Errol twitter you’ll also know that, as soon as the Houston story broke, I knew in my heart of footy hearts that somewhere a subeditor would see this story, grin with glee and headline it HOUSTON, WE HAVE A PROBLEM. Aaaaand this morning the Sydney Morning Herald subbing pool did. I am pretty much Nostradamus right now.

Check my rocking white tights, whut whut.

While I’ve been living in my belltower writing down the future on parchment and that, and Knights fans have been buying up big on Xanax, Errol’s favourite ladykiller Tim Sheens sent his boys to etiquette class.

Class valedictorian and Tim-Sheens-in-training Beau Ryan.
Pic. Gregg Porteous.

Etiquette class! I’m not even kidding, I think this is genius. After all, I went to etiquette classes at June Dally-Watkins’ deportment school and look how well I turned out. Sure I may be tactless and inappropriate, but I can sit down without flashing, set a table with proper cutlery, and if I ever run into the Prime Minister and a Catholic priest simultaneously at a cocktail party I can introduce myself and shake hands perfectly, all while holding both a canape and a glass of champagne. I believe these are what they call “life skills”.

…. hmmm. Tell me more about this “can of peas”, Sassy.
Pic. Gregg Porteous

I’m also going out on a limb and suggesting to the lovely etiquette trainer that maybe Tim Molzten needs a few more lessons.

SCOFFING A DANISH FROM MICHEL’S PATISSERIE AT MEDIA EVENTS IS NOT ON THE LIST OF APPROPRIATE BEHAVIOUR MOLTZ. Seriously, it’s not. Just ask Beau Ryan. You can’t kiss a lady’s hand with danish breath.

We all might want to consider giving up the booze, too, because apparently Todd Carney’s new policy of laying off the beers has rekindled his love for life.

Pic. Phil Hillyard

So happy! Now that he doesn’t have to take up valuable time buying, refigerating, drinking and sleeping off beers, and dealing with awkward questions about people’s pants catching on fire, Todd has rediscovered the simple joys of a roller coaster. A sunset. A rainbow. An afternoon spent shopping with Shaun Kenny-Dowall or with a cup of Earl Grey on his balcony.

He was hands down the hit of the Roosters Luna Park fan day.

That worried looking lady? Yep, she’s been reading the tabloids.

Wondering why the Roosters all look so happy, by the way? Oh, yeah, cause we won again. That’s all. Carry on.

Love Sassy xxo

So it’s probably obvious that since we got back from the Gold Coast on Sunday we’ve been feeling pretty miserable. The faces in the Errol office have been worryingly bleak and Russian-literature-esque. Or if you’re not a fan of Tolstoy references, we was sad pandas.

After all, how are you meant to go back to normal life after the lovefest of a week we had and the brilliant All-Stars game? You can’t. Not without help. And luckily for us, instead of having to hit the pharmacy and beg for some uppers, we got this. If you didn’t read it, here’s what you missed:

Central Districts are marvelling at the courage of their left-arm bowler Ewen Thompson who bowled 10 overs on the trot in their one-day semifinal win against Canterbury with a kebab stuck in his throat.

According to the team manager:

“ET is kicking himself a bit because he is supposed to watch what he eats. He was in a rush to eat before training [on Friday] and he scoffed down a kebab and obviously some meat got stuck.

“The fact that he was able to bowl 10 tidy overs on the trot for us and only go for 36 runs, feeling the way he was, was quite remarkable.”

EWEN THOMPSON YOU ARE THE GREATEST HUMAN EVER. And for so many reasons, not least of which is the fact that he was on his way to an athletic training session, and thought, what shall I eat to propel my body to maximum physical fitness? A KEBAB. It sounds so … Mark Riddell. And it made me smile for a good 3.6 hours.

Know who else loves kebabs? Whoever owns this board:

Awesome.

FYI league fans, you will be delighted to know that the offending kebab was not one of Ali Baba’s famous Robbie Farah Kebabs (TM). As the English Four Nations commentators explained in detail, Robbie Farah Kebabs (TM) are healthy – “they have chicken in them!” – and do not constitute a choking hazard for cricketers.

The Willie Mason drama-fest continued with this story, too, about how Willie Mason is a footy membership angel of death, and:

The Roosters have sold 409 memberships since February 5 when Mason made his move to the Townsville club – an increase of more than 40 per cent from the 287 memberships sold in the 10 days before Mason’s departure.

The surge also coincides with the Roosters signing producers Steggles as their major sponsor until 2012.

It’s not necessarily that I enjoy reading bitchy things in the paper (that’s a lie, I totally do), but that I am pretty much a scientist (remember the Oh Errol Experiment in 2009?) and I have spent the last 24 hours trying to figure out which of these things is true about Roosters fans.

a) do they really really hate Willie Mason?, or

b) do they just really really love chicken?

Either way, the message is that you should never ever call Nick Politis ‘fat’ in a press conference, or the Universe will punish you with bitchy newspaper stories about how no one likes you.

But the footy news this week is really all about fullbacks. Kurt Gidley and his mysterious knee injury are apparently going to be out of action until round 10 of the season. Hopefully that means he also gets a doctor’s letter giving him four months exemption from having to pee in a cup. HE CAN’T STAND PROPERLY, PEOPLE. HOW DO YOU EXPECT HIM TO AIM AT THE PLASTIC CUP?

I think the Knights should just accept that they are the new Roosters (who were the new Bulldogs) and will suffer calamity all year. Just hibernate for the next 12 months. As a Roosters fan, trust me, it’s not worth the psychological trauma of staying awake.

At Roosters HQ our new coach Brian-Smith-please-God-help-us is making the boys focus on the positives.

In my mind, this means they all have canes and dance around singing ac-cen-tuate the positive. Other than that … I got nothin. I remember no positives from 2009.

What I do know is that on Sunday when the Chooks play the Tigers, Todd Carney will be playing at fullback. I know we haven’t known each other long, Brian, but this confuses me. Carney at fullback in a team with Minichiello as captain? And Ben Jones in the halves? I love lil Benny like my own fabulous ranga child, but surely after his game on Saturday you’d consider him for hooker?

Is it just cause Brian the great white hope is trying to keep Carney as isolated as possible from the rest of the players as often as possible in case his aura of calamity infects the other players and someone goes up in flames?

And his opposite number with be Timmy Moltzen, which breaks my heart, cause I thought he was a massive improver in the halves last year. I was so proud I even caught Kiki’s weird condition where watghin him play made me talk like a league commentator. “… and hasn’t Moltzen really come along this year?” “He’s really liking that no. 6 jersey, isn’t he?” “That’s the kind of confidence a coach loves to see”. I JUST REALLY LIKE HIM, OK GUYZ?

But the fullback superstar of the week is clearly Jarrod-with-an-O Sammut. Who is now taking styling tips from Cap’n Jack Sparrow. I can’t wait till he starts plaiting beads into his moustache. the news of the day is that bitch is STACKED! Oh, yeah, and he has a tattoo that’s spelled wrong.

Those extra ten kilos will be perfect for crushing the poor tattooist who traced out ‘justify your existance’.

Meanwhile thanks to the sub-editor who called him ‘the incredible hulk’ in the tele, now every time I hear his name I think of the Simpsons ep where Bart calls Milhouse an “emotionally crippled mini-hulk”. From now on, in my mind, he shall be known as Milhouse.

And cause it’s only four-ish weeks till the season starts, here’s a completely lolz thread of summaries and predictions for each of the teams (not by us). Enjoy xx

In amongst all the All-Stars vs Indigenous excitement you might not have realised that there’s a Saturday night curtain raiser: the Under 16 NSW indigenous rep team will be taking on their Queensland counterparts. IT’S MINI ORIGIN! Personally, we have high high hopes that the baby blues can win the shield for NSW pride.

We also hope they can bring it home because … well dammit those boys are adorable. We met Captain and Vice-Captain Matt Gordon and Tyrone Phillips at their sweet digs, and had a chat to them and their hilarious coach, Chris, over some teen-appropriate drinks (promise). Say hi, boys:

We ran into the guys at opposed training, marking up against the Indigenous team on a ridiculously hot day up at Runaway Bay.

In typical Queenslander fashion, the Queensland 16s ran out first for their training session, leaving the NSW boys to wait around for their chance to face up against the Indigenous team. Bloody Queenslanders!

Seriously, even from the sideline we were taken aback at the sheer LARGENESS of Wendell Sailor in person – can you imagine marking up against him on the footy field?

Our NSW boys have some guts, that’s for sure. They’re also the absolute legends who stopped to save a family in distress. We’re not kidding either, they literally did. The under 16s team bus pulled over and spilled out a whole team of footy players to push a family’s car back onto the Gold Coast highway after they accidentally ran off the road. Check yo boys, NSW! They’re awesome, huh?

The NSW U16 reps team is also the same one that produced Jamal Idris and George Rose, and Matt and Tyrone are nervous and excited and every emotion in existence at the thought of opening for the All-Stars vs Indigenous showcase and being part of the history books. Their thoughts on Preston’s idea? “Genius … that’s all I can say”.

Best of all, Matt Gordon (Yileen’s cousin, if you’re wondering) has a bet going with Errol Favourite George Rose. If Matty takes a man down in the U16s clash, George Rose will take down an All-Star. IT’S ON, KIDS. Watch out for the carnage on Saturday night!

Now, because we’re on the road with our lappies we can’t do any proper video editing: so in the meantime we’ve made some mini-packages of Matt and Tyrone and their coach, Chris Binge. The boys talk about their week in the Goldy and the game on Saturday, and Chris gives us a rundown of who’s who in the team.

Here’s a hint: there’s a George Rose, a Carl Webb, even a greyhound.

Apologies in advance for us cackling like hyenas in the background at Chris … he’s just so FUNNY. Enjoy, darlings!

Kiki and Sassy coming to you live from Queensland! Well sort of live. Whatever. We’re up at the Gold Coast to check out the lead up to the Indigenous vs All Stars match this week, and just maybe because we kind of love going to a place where it’s socially acceptable to wear a white denim miniskirt in public. As far as white denim goes, Sassy and Surfer’s Paradise are in total philosophical agreement.

But there are a few things that are kind of … odd up here. Like the fact that every second ad on the radio is either a community service announcement warning people not to drive into flood waters (‘turn around you idiot! don’t let your life go down the drain!’) or an RACQ ad pimping out their service to help out Queenslanders who’ve locked their keys in their cars. Seriously. Not cars that have, you know, broken down, or had an accident … just battlers who have frequent problems with cars and locks. It’s like a whole state of morons! Maybe we should move here.

This morning the Indigenous team trained with the NSW and Qld indigenous 16s rep teams, and you’ll be delighted to know that Jamal Idris is as insanely cuddly in person as he is on yo TV. The fact that we resisted running on to go the snuggle is pretty much a miracle.

The word out of indigenous camp is that Gorden Tallis has been calling Wendell Sailor ‘Beyonce’ for the last 48 hours straight. Doesn’t Gordie love a pop culture reference? He so does …. almost as much as us, in fact. 

Needless to say we are massive Gordie fans, thanks to his hilarious domestic squabbles with Gary Freeman on Monday Night Football. And that was before we saw him refereeing in a bucket hat while the Indigenous superstars played the 16s. A BUCKET HAT, PEOPLE! It’s all our dreams come true.

We were lucky enough to have a chat to Gordie last year in Orange, so we were pretty overjoyed that he recognised us and came over to take the piss out of us today for our hilarious escapades and mixups in City-Country week. It’s the Australian way.

Greg Bird is back in the country – sadly without his hilarious 2008 Mexican moustache, because he’s swapped it for some bulk. Goddamn! Bird is a unit. For reals. Especially when he stands next to the tiny tiny ankles of Jamal Idris, Neil Henry, and Beau Champion.

The injury curse over this whole showcase game is still out of control, if you’re wondering. I don’t know who it was that disturbed the angry pharoah mummy, but shit is ridiculous. Blake Ferguson, also known as injured Justin Hodge’s replacement, had to hit the bench and ice his ankle, which may or may not be sorted out by the end of the week. Poor lil Blake! Think we almost saw his rats tail uncurl in sadness as he sat on the sideline.

At least we must’ve cheered him up with our ridiculous 80s cockrock hair. THIS HUMIDITY IS RIDICULOUS. We can’t leave the house without looking like rejects from a Whitesnake video. 

And if you’re wondering why there are no ErrolTV interview clips for you today, I think I can explain it in one phrase: we are idiots. Not only did we try and charge our video camera with the wrong charger and think that it broke; we then spent an hour phoning around electronics stores to find a replacement with a pre-charged battery; we also then realised we had the wrong microphone to attach to the camera, and finally …. drove to the wrong field. Late interviewers are disappointed interviewers.

Your two favourite idiots also got distracted talking to the awesome Phil from the NSW team management about his boys, and ended up as the unwitting backdrop for about eight interviews with Scott Prince. 

On. Fire. Right?

We are awesome.

Stay tuned for more gossip and some TV goodness tomorrow when we get our shit together. Plus an adorable profile of the NSW 16s indigenous rep team.

It’s exactly two weeks till the inaugural Indigenous vs All-Stars Gold Coast footy fest, and bitches, the All-Stars have been announced. The people have spoken. It’s pretty much democracy in it’s most fabulous incarnation yet, no?

(Click here to refresh your memory if you can’t remember who the hell the All-Stars are playing. I totally just clicked it then, because I have the memory of a learning-impaired sloth. This has nothing to do with booze, of course).

And before you read them, can I suggest that you imagine them all being announced like debutantes? I did, and the whole scene in my mind was pretty damn awesome. Come on down, boys!

1. Billy Slater – Melbourne Storm

2. Israel Folau – Brisbane Broncos

3. Michael Jennings – Penrith Panthers

4. Matt Cooper – St George Illawarra Dragons

5. Manu Vatuvei – New Zealand Warriors

6. Darren Lockyer – Brisbane Broncos

7. Benji Marshall – Wests Tigers

8. Adam Blair – Melbourne Storm

9. Cameron Smith – Melbourne Storm

10. Dave Taylor – South Sydney Rabbitohs

11. Anthony Watmough – Manly Warringah Sea Eagles

12. Gareth Ellis – Wests Tigers

13. Luke O’Donnell – North Queensland Cowboys

Bench:

Kurt Gidley – Newcastle Knights

Anthony Tupou- Cronulla Sharks

Nate Myles – Sydney Roosters

Alan Tongue – Canberra Raiders

Luke Bailey – Gold Coast Titans

Josh Morris – Canterbury Bulldogs

Jarryd Hayne – Parramatta Eels

You can thank me later for the debutante ball visuals. Especially the one of Nate Myles in a one shouldered dress.

I can’t lie – that’s a damn good team. Australia, you have excellent taste. And by ‘excellent taste’, clearly I mean ‘ way to pick Hotbitch Cooper in the centres’. Sure, he may be 100 in footy years, but for a centenarian he has a fucking great ass … I mean, he’s a brilliant defensive center. Cough. And we all know why a team needs a good defensive centre. It’s called ‘the same reason NSW lose State of Origin’. On behalf of womankind … I mean, footy fans everywhere, thank you, voters of Australia.

The only problem with our nation’s love affair with Hotbitch Cooper – aka the ‘Chanel of men’ – is that thanks to the fascists who designed the voting scheme, there’s only one player voted in from each team. Playing Coops without Brett Morris outside on the wing is like … vodka without tonic. A Judd Apatow film without Paul Rudd. Those two have some Milo and Otis shit going on, and everyone knows that without Milo, Otis is just a lift company.

I’m 99% sure the only thing that could make up for the tragic lack of B.Moz is watching Manu Vatuvei and his fucking sweet gold tooth charge over opposition players. This is convenient.

People seem to be saying that the reason they voted reigning Rexona’s greatest athlete Billy Slater into the team is for his speed in running back the ball from his own tryline, his spontenaity, and, I dunno, the fact that he can score single-man length-of-the-field tries with the ball in one hand or something. But I would like to point out that Billy is also reigning Oh Errol winner of ‘best skin in league’, and his selection in the team means that I have a flimsy excuse to post this picture of him in a giant egg capsule* again:

* this is a technical term.

Awesome.

No offence to Jarryd Hayne but I also find it completely delightful that he’s not in the starting team, because hopefully now I won’t have to hear the phrase HAYNE TRAIN at any point in the next two weeks.

I still have nightmares about that photo, for reals. If there’s one thing I hate as much as Queenslanders, it’s puppets, clowns, and anything that has vaguely to do with people in masks.

Meanwhile if you’re wondering why there are so many Storms and Broncos in the team, it’s because the Captain and Vice-Captain of the Australian and Kiwi national teams automatically quali- … something something purple monkey dishwasher. I can’t be bothered explaining it. Whatever. I care not for anything that involves the Storm or Broncos (unless, of course, we’re talking about the brilliantly- named Kristian Wanka. KRISTIAN WANKA. You heard it here first).

I’d much rather take the time I would’ve spent typing and use it to go get a Diet Coke. I can’t even muster the inclination to look up how many votes the top vote-scorer Israel Folau received. Instead, let’s all look at a picture of Neil Patrick Harris riding a unicorn, shall we?

Best of all – the All-Stars team has proven to me that all our Errol weird footy loves are actually universal footy loves. Sir Alan Tongue, noblest man in league! Anthony ‘Sad Clown’ Tupou! Anthony Watmough! Gareth ‘But only gels do ballet!’ Ellis! Goddamn you people have excellent taste.

And surprisingly, no, this whole initiative wasn’t created just so the Errol girls could ogle Hotbitch Cooper and Luke O’Donnell (the Paul Newman of league) in a beachside setting. According to David Gallop, we’re looking at $1.5 million for One Community and Indigenous education programmes. That’s right, $1.5 million cause the game’s already sold out *high kick*

We love you rugby league.

Now – what’s your feedback on the team babies? and WHO VOTED FOR ISRAEL FOLAU?

WE’RE BACK BITCHES! Did you miss us all over the long, long Christmas break? I can only assume that the answer to that question is ‘yes’, and that you spent four weeks weeping gently into your pillows and/or weeping uncontrollably in the shower while you tried to carve the words ‘hot bitch’ into the shower recess tiles. We missed you, too, kittens.

And to start the year off – and offer our scientifical wisdom to the NRL coaches of 2010 – let’s recap the Great Errol Experiment of 2009.

We like to use Errol for good causes. You know, contribute to the world in a positive way, like Medicins Sans Frontieres, or Mother Theresa, or the people who discovered penicillin. In our case, we decided to help the world by playing Fantasy league sharing our scientific knowledge with its people. We’re pretty much on the Mary MacKillop track to sainthood already.

So we took our two little teams:

The Oh Errol Wildcats, who are kinda like our Rugby League imaginary BFFs: the only prerequisite for being a wildcat is that we think you might like spending a day hanging out with us drinking coffees and browsing the books and mags in Borders. (It also helps if you don’t laugh at us for naming the Wildcats after the basketball team in High School Musical and the 1980s Goldie hawn movie).

And the Hottie McHothots, who … well that one’s pretty self-explanatory, huh?

We picked the boys carefully to make our teams as respectively charming and as good-lookin as we could. We trained them, supported them, took them on camps to play trust games and drink cordial. We bedazzled their uniforms by hand, then stood back and watched to see whether personality or beauty would be more successful at playing footy.

Here’s what we learned:

HOT PEOPLE ARE FRAGILE. Sure, they may have rippling abs, biceps like Greek Gods, chiselled jawlines and lovely twinkly eyes, but if you tackle them, do they not break?

Apparently, they do. They break A LOT.

Back in round four we lost SEVEN players to injury. Seven! It was almost like they were being punished by the Cosmos for being beautiful.

But despite being complete dreamboats and/or being made of glass, the Hottie McHotHots still put up a good fight. Several times they almost outplayed the Wildcats. Go, hotties, go!

And even though they are adorable, even the Wildcats get tetchy sometimes. Sometimes they just lost their damn minds and forgot how to play.

And best of all, Fantasy League gives you an excellent topic of conversation if you unexpectedly meet John Cartwright. TRUE STORY.

But let’s talk results:

YUP, WILDCATS! Not by much in the end, but the sweetheart who makes good jokes, likes all your fave tv shows, and takes the piss our of himself narrowly beat out the man whose abs are visible through his shirt.

You can send my my Nobel Prize for Science nomination in the post.

So, big news, kittens. Sonny Bill Williams and Mark Gasnier are going to play against each other in Paris this week when their rugby union teams face up against each other. Amazing, huh?

I know, I feel the same way. Let’s move onto more important things.

I officially have a new footy crush … and it’s someone from the Tigers. 

So the news out of Wests Tigers HQ last week was that Beau ‘funniest thing on the Footy Show’ Ryan, Blake ‘Abercrombie & Fitch’ Ayshford, and Tim ‘Jewy name, Irish eyes’ Moltzen had re-signed with the team until the end of 2010. This made me happy because, well, they’re all adorable. I do have eyes, you know. Also, happy because the newspapers kept referring to the trio as ‘young guns’.

HOW GOOD WAS THE MOVIE YOUNG GUNS? I totally had a crush on Lou Diamond Phillips. True story.

I also really enjoyed Emilio Estevez’s sweet sweet braces.

But no, my crush isn’t one of the Young Guns. Guess again!

Straight after that, the news out of Wests HQ was that Steve Folkes, the new high performance manager, was NOT messing around. 

According to Timmy Moltzen:

“… in the gym the music’s off at the moment, and there’s no talking in the gym, which is about encouraging you to concentrate on doing your work. You can talk when you’re not working.”

How delightfully evil and Spartan and Footloose-esque. NO MUSIC, JUST WORK! 

Beau Ryan told the journo:

“Yeah, it’s been pretty hard. We’ve been doing a lot of running, and Folkesy likes training in the middle of the day, for some reason. We all had to get bikes, and tomorrow we’ve got swimming. I think we’re going to be the Wests greyhounds, not the Wests Tigers.”

Let me get this straight: Folkesy made the Tigers all give up modern transportation in favour of bikes? Then ride them in in the blazing pre-season sun to train at midday? 

HELLO NEW CRUSH! I’M COMPLETELY IN LOVE. He sounds like a demanding evil footy dictator and I love it. Pain is nothing! Winning is everything!

An evil dictator with a TRUNDLE WHEEL.
Pic. Quentin Jones

PLUS THE BOYS ARE TOTALLY SCARED OF HIM.

Lil Blake Ayshford said:

“There’s no music and no air-conditioner … so we’re sweating up a bit. I think he’s just trying to get us into the pre-season mentality – he’s really working us hard and stamping his authority at the moment, which is good. It’s working on us.”

”Hopefully, we’ll start getting the music in and the air-conditioner will start to work soon. One of the boys asked him whether the air-conditioner could be turned on, and he said it was broken. I don’t know whether it’s broken or not – we’re too scared to try it at the moment.”

This Folkes character is kinda starting to remind me of The Greatest Character in Television History, also known as Sue Sylvester from Glee.

To quote the fucking fierce Sue on the topic of fear: 

“We’re dealing with children, they need to be terrified, it’s like mothers milk to them – without it their bones won’t grow properly”.

Do you think he wears adidas tracksuits every day, too? In my mind he totally does.

Steve Folkes I love your work!

I hope he also stands on the sideline with a megaphone and yells out some of Sue Sylvester’s trademark inspirational phrases when the boys get tired:

“You think this is hard? Try being waterboarded, that’s hard!”

“You think this is hard? I’m living with hepatitis, that’s hard!”

“You think this is hard? Try filling your own cavity, that’s hard!”

Or when the boys fail to live up to their potential at training:

“This is what we call a total disaster, ladies. I’m going to have to ask you to smell your arm pits… That’s the smell of failure. And it’s stinking up my office!”

Maybe even to let the players know that turning up late to practice is UNACCEPTABLE:

“And if you are one minute late, I will go to the animal shelter and get you a kitty cat. I will let you fall in love with that kitty cat, and then, on some dark, cold night, I will steal away into your home … and punch you in the face.”

And then, of course, every week there has to be a story that could only be about rugby league. Like the week when Ben Hannant got swine flu. Or the week Sonny Bill Williams fled to Europe under cover of darkness. Some shit only happens in league. This week’s lucky winner?

Uncle Wayne (aka the Messiah of Kogarah) might be hiring a kick-ass judo trainer, who is also:

a) cage fighter;

b) a former Judo reserve for the Australian Olympic team, and;

c) ex-con who shared a jail cell with Ivan Milat.

Well OF COURSE HE IS. What else would you expect from a rugby league martial arts trainer? That kind of thing is too rugby league for words. Ain’t no soccer trainers who are reformed ex-jailbirds, are there? No rugby union support staff who’ve watched Ivan Milat pee. Rugby league, you never cease to surprise and amaze me. 

As for Mick Cutajar, who is the guy they’re talking about – and apparently a really good cage fighter, if you were wondering – all I have to say is: that’s one SWEET judo outfit. I like him. Maybe if the trainer thing doesn’t work out, Uncle Wayne can hire him as a fashion consultant … just send my commission to Errol HQ.

I know ya’ll love a George Rose update. And why not? You’re only human, after all, and George Rose is … GEORGE ROSE. The whole of the Errol HQ is obsessed with his awesome. We’re certified George Rose freaks. We loved the way he rose to the occasion in the props pentathlon on FoxSports. We think he can no wrong. We see the world through George Rose-coloured glasses. We think he’s a-George-able. Look I DIDN’T GET MUCH SLEEP LAST NIGHT, just indulge me, ok?

Even George Rose thinks my puns are shit.

That might be why at first I thought that George Rose was covered in mud as part of some new Des Hasler training routine – remember when he made the Beav play mixed netball? – until I realised Georgie’s actually promoting some kind of mud run-something-or-other. Who knows? Certainly not me, because while I enjoy activities where you get piggybacks and get dirty, I care not for activities where I have to … exert myself. You know, walk, run, stand, climb shit. Those mud-runners are on their own, bitches.

George and Brett audition for the next NRL premiership trophy.

And aside from frolicking in the mud with Brett Stewart, George Rose has apparently been on all of your minds. He was my second pick in Sassy’s Indigenous Team (I’m not even kidding, right after Scotty Prince) and apparently the universe listened. It got off it’s fat lazy universe ass and made sure George Rose was selected for the Indigenous side to play the NRL All-Stars.

Yup, George Rose, Prince Scotty the Caramel, Jamal ‘most huggable man in the NRL’ Idris, and our beloved Wendell Sailor are all confirmed to be in the side. Plus my winger Nathan Merritt made it onto the wing. Probably some other people too. Whatever. The important thing is it’s now official, Australian rugby league fans have Really Good Taste. The cats of Australia have made their choice (Snappy Tom) and the people of Australia have made their choice (to have an indigenous team full of great humans).

Check out the full team list:

Carl Webb
Cory Paterson
Daine Laurie
George Rose
Greg Inglis
Jamal Idris
Jamie Soward
Jharal Yow Yeh
Joel Thompson
Johnathan Thurston
Justin Hodges
Nathan Merritt
PJ Marsh
Preston Campbell ©
Sam Thaiday
Scott Prince
Tom Learoyd-Lahrs
Travis Waddell
Wendell Sailor
Yileen Gordon

THANKS AUSTRALIA! Stay tuned for the next edition of the George Rose Chronicles.

All pics Braden Fastier via NewsPhotos<

EXCITING NEWS, DARLINGS! The new edition of Rugby League Player mag came out this Monday, and it’s the 2009 Yearbook issue. And yes, this is pretty exciting on its own, considering it has sweet photo essays and you can win stuff and they have end-of-year awards (sure they’re not as hilarious and amazing as the Errol Awards, but what is? By the way the awards are coming … don’t worry babies!)

The point is: IT ALSO HAS A COLUMN BY US. Kiki and I wrote a double page wrap up of ‘The Year in Review’, complete with hilarious jokes about all the important stuff, like Robbie Farah’s nipples, tap-arse, Wendell, rangas, awkward run ins with Anthony Watmough and State of Origin bloodlust.

SEE? IT’S US! (complete with gratuitous picture of my nerdy reading glasses).

If you haven’t read it already – go! buy! IMMEDIATELY. You won’t regret it.

Oh yeah, in other news the Kangaroos won the Four Nations n stuff. If you missed the game, I can summarise it for you pretty quickly. For 60 minutes it was a competition, then for, um, about 20 minutes or so it just looked like this:

… but repeated over, and over, and over again ad nauseum till the buzzer sounded; then like this:

It was a Billy Slater hattrick, which meant the commentators went on and on incessantly about how well Billy was making up for The Unpleasantness during last years World Cup final against New Zealand. Do you think Billy just cracks it whenever someone brings that up? God knows I would. After all he only did it once, right?

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e6Z16H6c2NY]

OH MY GOD! THAT WAS ONE TIME!

Of course Brett Morris wasn’t gonna come off empty-handed. You know how it’s not really a State of Origin until someone gest punched? Well, in 2009 IT’S NOT A FOUR NATIONS GAME IF B.MOZ DOESN’T SCORE.

Let me rephrase: it’s not a Four Nations game unless B.Moz scores … then the stadium decides to play ‘Land Down Under’ so we can all rock out like massive nerds. Thanks stadium music selector-man! I love Men at Work! *hippie dance*

I do have to be truthful though: when the Aussie boys shaved their mos off last week, it kind of broke my heart. I was deadset struggling to support them through my sorrow. I couldn’t even manage to bother getting up at 6am on Sunday to watch them. Remember last time I left the pub to watch a game? Now that was dedication. I just can’t muster up that kinda devotion anymore though.

The only man holding onto my love is the consistently awesome Nathan Hindmarsh. Oh, Hindy. I adore you even though last week you totally looked like a serial killer with a shotgun. We also, apparently, have something in common. When we’re happy, we celebrate EXACTLY THE SAME WAY. By cracking open the champas and taking our pants off. No one can celebrate properly with elastic digging into their waist. It’s just Science.

CALL ME HINDY! LET’S BE BESTIES!

I’ma miss seeing that mo on my tv, siiigh. In all honesty, I’m also gonna miss the English commentary team. I didn’t want to like them … but they’re just So Damn Excited. They love life! And Brett Morris! And Sam Burgess! And footy! And the crowd! And ESPECIALLY WHEN THE ENGLISH SCORE A TRY! Their ridiculous excitement for life is totally contagious, and every time they come on I somehow find myself nodding and clapping in agreement with everything that they say, especially when they say things like:

“He is a MAN-MOUNTAIN, Greg Inglis!”

Well-spotted, boys. He really is.

But there is no way I could possibly sum up the glory of the Four Nations as successfully as Nathan Hindmarsh did in the Daily Telegraph:

BIGGEST EATER: David Shillington, hands down. I suspect he might be pregnant, he orders two of everything. And he isn’t shy when dessert comes either.

FUNNIEST STORY: We’d all ordered our food in Paris one night and Trent Waterhouse thought of a joke. He made himself laugh so much he couldn’t spit it out. When he got his mouth working, he asked Ryan “how’s your beef stroganHOFF”. We were all in stitches.

[not gonna lie, I loled. Oh, Trent].

MOST UNTIDY TEAM-MATE: Justin Hodges. I think he unpacks his bag with great vengeance and furious anger. I am pretty sure he wears a pair of undies for four days – forwards, backwards, inside out forwards and inside out backwards. I pity the man rooming with him.

DESCRIBE YOUR ROOM-MATE IN ONE SENTENCE: David Shillington is a softly-spoken 115kg cuddly bear.

[He also pops the collar on his Kangaroos blazer ... ooh, FANCY].

IS THERE ONE PLAYER WHO CHANGED YOUR PERCEPTION OF HIM FOR GOOD OR BAD? Sam Thaiday changed my perception of him for the better. And David Shillington has changed it for the worse – all that food that goes in has to come out and I’m looking forward to breathing fresh air again.

Let’s do the whole thing again in four years, kids. What do you say?

Image credits: All Four Nations pics via Getty Images