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?

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

It’s true, all good things come to an end. Just as everyone’s favourite ironic self-promoter Wendell retired, the Kangaroos shaved off their awesome mos. Apparently they didn’t want to face up to the English in the Four Nations final with giant pimpin 70s moustaches.

Johnathan Thurston and his dead mo walking.

To this I say: that’s fucking insane. If you thought the mozzie twins distracted the Frenchies with their saminess and twinniness, how much do you think moustaches would throw the poms off? Johnathon Thurston held out for just a little bit longer than the rest, but eventually even JT went the shave on his Cheech Marin moustache (thanks to Adge for the pop culture reference!) and went clean-faced.

RIP the mos. My pants and my heart are equally sad.

Although not nearly as sad as they were when I realised that as part of their training in England the boys have been playing soccer.

Shillo and Jarryd-with-a-Y making my ladyparts depressed.

…. and Robbie helps them finish the job.

SOCCER? REALLY? As if I don’t have enough problems, now my national league team is inflicting the most boring of all God’s creations – soccer – on me. And no, I won’t call it football. I refuse. YOU CAN’T MAKE ME. UNLESS YOU’RE EUROPEAN, CALLING SOCCER FOOTBALL IS JUST KINDA PRETENTIOUS KTHANKS.

Billy Slater had limited success. Probably would have done better with a round ball. He may be the Special Child of the Kangaroos.

And according to Kangaroos TV the boys have also been busy doing other-things-that-in-no-way-relate-to-rugby-league. For their day off they went, wait for it …. trap shooting. Really. No offence intended to the Kangaroos squad, but if I was in charge and sitting behind my giant mahogany desk reading my emails and approving requests for the Kangaroos on which activities the ARL was willing to pay for them to do, ones involving WEAPONS would not be high on my list. After the two year scandal-fest that has been the Aussie NRL in 2008 and 2009, I would totally have a nothing that cuts or shoots policy for all footy players at all times. Instead of kitting them out with guns and sending them to a field in England where they might accidentally shoot:

a) a miscellaneous Pom

b) some kind of valuable privately-owned pheasant

c) themselves

d) all of the above,

and end up in the British tabloids, I would have a firmly Soft Objects Only policy. You know, stuff like … sending them to play in the ball room at Ikea. Building forts out of doonas. Eating marshmallows. That kinda thing.

I seriously can’t believe the whole thing didn’t end in tears and/or a lawsuit.

I think it explains why the players had to shave off their moustaches, though. I’ve watched a lot of Crime documentaries in my time, and if there’s one thing I’ve learned about creepy serial killer type dudes, it’s that they are bandits for a moustache. I’m not kidding. The Green River Killer, Jeffrey Dahmer, Leonard Lake … it’s moustaches ahoy!

Basically, nothing is creepier than a man with a mo carrying a weapon. Most of the time they are just plain awesome, but with a gun in your hand, all of a sudden you look kinda like you should be driving an unmarked white van and doing something shifty.

I think Nathan Hindmarsh and his few-day’s-growth proves this pretty authoritatively. Swap that microphone for a shotty and he would be TERRIFYING. Moustaches and shooting just don’t mix.

Of course no Kangaroos update would be complete without our Dave Taylor (also moustache-less) spotting for the day. HI DT!

Back in Australia Willie Mason is in trouble for mouthing off.

In other news the sky is blue.

And the Gold Coast Titans have some schmick new uniforms for 2010:

Does anyone else think Scotty Prince has been practising this? His pensive yet content look into the distance is pretty much perfect right here.  Has he secretly been doing catalogue work no one knows about? Cause that shit is GOOD.

Scotty gets some feedback on his ‘pensive’ face

Meanwhile I know y’all love updates on the Errol staff. Work experience boy Lachie has been on light duties since he injured his shoulder and has been hitting the weights to get all bulked up. Clearly we would’ve appreciated it more if he used his newfound strength to make Wendell Sailor stay at St. George, but NO DICE. We’re gonna have to have a talk with him I think.

And I’ll leave you with Adam MacDougall’s thoughts on Wendell leaving:

THE game is going to miss Wendell Sailor – but not as much as I will.

MADDOG YOU BIG SOFTIE. Wanna hug?

All pics via Getty Images

Well, that’s it. MY MIGHTY HEART IS BROKEN. Wendell Jermaine (yes that really is his middle name) Sailor has officially retired from the NRL. Break out the Kleenex bitches, cause we’re gonna need them.

No more NRL back-rubs for Wendell.

I just saw a clip on FoxSports of baby 19-year-old Dell debuting for the Broncos when he was all skinny and didn’t even have the Famous Wendell Arse, and I actually may have had to wipe away a tear.

We have the fairylights on at Errol HQ, and the interns are busy framing pics of our favourite Big Dell moments and putting out little sandwiches and giant tumblers of vodka to get us through this hard time and help us say goodbye to Wendell.

Needless to say we Do Not Approve of Dell leaving us. When we found out he was set to announce his retirement (via twitter, of course, cause that’s where we get all our news) we immediately jumped in the Jeep to head down to St George Leagues Club and convince him to stay the best way we know how: by attaching ourselves to his leg as he tried to give his press conference and refusing to let go until he agreed to stay. It works when little kids do it, right?

Seriously, guys, let go of my leg.

Sadly, we forgot that Wendell is …. Wendell. If he can dump a Taniela Tuiaki over the sideline he can probably manage to walk with three Errol girls attached to his thigh. DAMMIT. We’re sorry everyone, but we did our best.

And before you give us that ‘oh, but he’s getting on a bit’ excuse, yes, yes we know. Dell is 35 now, which, as we all know, is about 89 in footy player years. (Footy player years are pretty much like dog years). But he’s Dell. If he can come back at 33 and play for Shellharbour and make his way back into first grade, bitch can do anything.

According to Dell he was on the downhill slide and thought he had to hit the road to make sure that a) he didn’t play like crap next year, and b) so that all the lil wingers like B.Moz, Flossy Nightingale and Michael Lett didn’t miss out on their chances in the Dragons side.

DAMMIT DELL, WHY DO YOU HAVE TO BE SO NOBLE? I would much prefer if he did the non-noble thing and hung around hogging that right wing until he died/became a senior citizen.

Although in a massively Wendell moment he also said:

“If I’m as popular as I think I am, then I’ll get selected to play in the indigenous game in February”.

Well thank fuck for that! Dell was a vital selection in the Sassy Indigenous all-stars team and I really didn’t want to have to get back to the drawing board and redo that whole team. Don’t you know I’m very busy and important? I really don’t have that kinda time.

There’s my boys!

He also said:

And to the kids, just know that if you dream big and you believe big, you can make it.

OF COURSE HE DID. HE BELIEVES THE CHILDREN ARE OUR FUTURE. DELL YOU ARE AMAZING DON’T LEAVE US.

Who else will smash opponents into touch, then offer them a hand to get back up? Who else is gonna devise cute little post-try celebrations with Jamie Soward and the Dragons mascot? Who else disco dances in the locker room (also known as the Greatest Off-field Moment of 2009)? Who else will be Adam MacDougall’s on-field comedy partner?

I mean we love Dell even though he’s a Queenslander, doesn’t that say it all? He is hands-down the greatest character in league.

Luckily, the Dragons are keeping Wendell on as an ambassador and mentor for another 3 years. Good call Wayne Bennett! This is why they call him a master coach, isn’t it?

Can we humbly suggest that perhaps they build Wendell a giant four-wheeled dragon car to ride on, so at appropriate moments during home games, Dell could maybe dress up as a fierce soldier and ride the dragon around the field brandishing his sword and making the motorised dragon breathe fire?

See where I’m going with this? YOU KNOW IT WOULD BE AMAZING.

Kiki and I came up with this one arvo sitting on the hill at Kogarah, and right now, seeing that dream come to life may be the only thing that will make us feel better.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna go grab a tumbler and re-read all my favourite past Wendell Sailor posts.

I may also watch these two videos and sob uncontrollably:

Hit me up with your favourite Dell moments and join in, why don’t ya?

“It’s just been a weird night … and I’ve had a little bit to drink.”

So here’s the disclaimer: I went to Ladyhawke on Saturday night, and despite being Super Responsible and leaving the pub (I know, amazing right?) at well-maybe-a-little-bit-after-midnight like Cinderella, I was … well, look I was drunk when I watched this. Basically, I take no responsibility for being overexcited or imagining shit. But I think it’s more important to focus on the fact that I left a pub while it was still dark. That’s a massive achievement for me, JUST SO YOU KNOW.

To start with, is it wrong to say that I’m a bit in love with the British League commentators? Cause I am. No, not for their comical accents. Those bitches are insightful. They care about the important things: like explaining to the general European public that back in Australia Robbie Farah has a kebab named after him, but DON’T WORRY GUYS, IT’S A HEALTHY KEBAB! IT HAS CHICKEN AND VEGETABLES IN IT AND EVERYTHING.

God forbid anyone in the United Kingdom mistakenly think that Robbie Farah and his visible abs are schilling for some greasy obesity-inducing second-rate kebab. The commentary team are all about accuracy.

Well, all about accuracy … and historical lolz. After explaining in great detail that Northern Frenchies don’t play league because league was one of the things – along with freedom and equality – that Hitler cared not for, they start calling the French defence ‘the resistance’. It’s funny cause it means two things! *slaps knee*

These people? Yep, defenders of freedom and rugby league fans.

Meanwhile if you ever get heckled by rugby union fans for liking league, you can always ask whether they know that the Nazi collaborators and Vichy government in WWII France banned league and promoted union. Yes, people will think you’re a massive loser, but better that than a union follower, right? WE’RE THE RESISTANCE, BITCHES.

It also makes me happy to know that there are other nerds out there if the commentary team ever stumble onto Errol and read our footy posts from last year, they will totally enjoy Kiki’s jokes about Winston Churchill and Stalin and the Cronulla Sharks.

As for the game: not gonna lie, the Aussies didn’t live up to their potential as a team (and the Frenchies agree) but I care not. They had moustaches, and they entertained me, and that’s what counts.

So let’s talk about the Aussie boys.

MOS WIN MATCHES

Um, you know it’s true. No sooner had I pointed out that Cooper Cronk has one of the greatest moustaches in league history and reminds us of a latter-day 40-20 kicking Errol Flynn:

… really? I look that good?

Than he’s all up in the French’s business filling in for Thurston and Lockyer and generally being awesome. Sure, I’d had about six voddies, but I could still tell that the team looked way better in the second half when Cooper came off the bench. IT’S ALL IN THE MO, DARLINGS.

LESSONS FROM WAYNE PEARCE

And if Cooper’s lucky charm is a mo, then Robbie Farah’s is his headband. Remember way back in July when Robbie Farah rocked the tape headband and got his punch on with Anthony Watts?

Well from what he told us at the Kangaroos media call before the boys left, he’s … well he’s kinda proud. He also promised us that he’d bring back the headband as a rugby league look. After all, there’s nothing more Tigers than a tape headband, is there? Even Wayne Pearce knows the answer to that question.

Anyway, we’re pleased to observe that HE TOTALLY DID. Bitch is a man of his word! And there is no way you will ever convince me he didn’t tape himself up as an act of generosity and charity purely to entertain the Errol girls.

Although I do kinda wonder if Robbie just reserves the tape for special occasions, like when he punches on in the scrum, or when he’s going to appear in the starting Kangaroos team on international television. I say it’s no coincidence that Robbie rocked the shit out of the elastoplast in Paris just as he got his start as hooker, right?

THE ACTION IN THE STANDS

Meanwhile, as Robbie stepped in at dummy half, Cam Smith rested it up and discussed history with Brett White in the stands.

(Apparently Cam Smith totally enjoys history, by the way. That wasn’t just me projecting. I read it on the internet so you know it’s true).

French background dude does not appreciate Movember.

Don’t those handlebar moustaches just make you proud to be Australian? I love knowing I’m from a country that thought, you know what will do wonders for men’s health issues? Facial hair.

And with their schmick green Aussie blazers, I love that the touring Kangaroos kind of look like they’re on tour in Paris in 1975. Devils on horseback, anyone? Maybe a prawn cocktail?

I’m actually a bit offended that the Frenchie in the expensive-looking chocolate brown leather jacket in the background is looking so judgy and unimpressed by Cam Smith and Brett White and their handlebar efforts. IT’S CALLED MOVEMBER. IT’S FOR CHARITY. GOOGLE IT.

… but French background dude does find Anthony Watmough hilarious.

Meanwhile if you look in the foreground, NRL media manager David ‘D.T.’Taylor is kicking Movember’s ass with his mo, too. AMAZING WORK DAVE!

When the camera panned to the crowd during the game I almost spat out my diet coke in shock/joy, because Spotting D.T. is one of my favourite footy past times. It might even be better than my other favourite footy past time: ‘picking jobs for Nathan Hindmarsh’s kids’ (I’ll explain that one another time).

Wherever there are NRL players, there has to be an NRL media manager. So spotting D.T is like playing Where’s Wally – he has to be there somewhere, it’s just a question of where.

Exhibit A:

HI D.T! WE LOVE YOU!

You get extra points in this game if you manage to find a pic where he’s standing in the background looking sort of like a creep.

IT’S A MOZTRAVAGANZA!

I don’t know if I should mention it but we totally called it! As predicted, the Mozzie twins were a double-act of awesome against the French, racking up two tries each for a total of four. Four tries for their country? Shit is ridiculous!

I actually think while I was watching the game, when the commentators reminded us all they scored four, I may have yelled out FOUR FOR YOU GLEN COCO, YOU GO GLEN COCO!  Apologies to my neighbours. (Except the one who practises the flute every weeknight. They deserve it for annoying the hell out of me).

Clearly the French were dazzled by the Mozzie’s long long Bambi legs, super-speed, and general twinniness, those adorable over-achieving bastards.

Best of all? THE MOZZIES SLEDGE EACH OTHER. As they raced each other to ground a kick for a try I am 100% sure I saw B.Moz mocking J.Moz. And when he scored a second try, he made the international sibling expression for – HAH!

It’s all scratched knees and sibling rivalry in the Morris house

See? I have a brother and I totally make that face too. It’s a universal expression loosely translated as ‘I WIN!’ The only thing better was that when J.Moz got his first try on the board, he celebrated by getting caught on camera first giving an ‘I love you’ shout out to his family back home, then saying ‘thank fuck for that’. Bless.

THE SHOWDOWN

So the English shocked everyone by beating the Kiwis (I’d fallen asleep by this point), giving them the chance to play the Kangaroos in the final on the weekend. Allegedly Tim Sheens has told his team the gloves are off, and if anyone plays dirty, they should give it back. JUST DON’T HIT THE MOZZIES. THEY’RE TOO CUTE FOR VIOLENCE!

THE MONEY

Have you sponsored the Kangaroos yet? WELL HAVE YOU? You know you want to:

SPONSOR THE KANGAROOS

All pictures Getty Images

Screen caps by the amazing Cronkster, who’s on holiday in Fiji right now. HAVE FUN DARLING!