The Friday night recap is a special edition this week. Since I’m staying at Crippled Kiki’s this weekend, you’ll get double the awesome from us as I blog, and she nurses her broken elbow on the couch and sporadically chimes in with bitchy and hilarious comments.
This Friday sees Cripple’s baby Dragons playing the Penrith Panthers who I am completely indiff …. um, who is that? It seems that over the past fourteen weeks I have failed to notice that there is a completely, insanely, tousle-haired, bedraggled hot bitch of a second-rower playing for Penrith. He’s got a slight gut, a slight stagger, slight stubble, and a slight whiff of woke-up-on-a-pub-floor-and-was-unexpectedly-signed-to-play-league about him. His name is Matthew Bell and he may be our perfect man.
See I had this hole in my heart from when Nathan Hindmarsh lopped off his shaggy hair, but now it is finally filled. The Panthers website tells me his interests include fishing and camping, but I’m sure we can cure him of those.
Where was I? Oh yes, the footy.
Even before the game starts tonight has already been some Champagne football. In the Wests Tigers vs Brisbane Broncos clash we discovered the truly fabulous Daine Laurie. He’s two metres of giant man with a full head of dreadlocks, and his ridiculously long legs may or may not be made of Cadbury Old Gold.
Kiki thinks he’s reminiscent of a pre-Rugby Union (as she puts it ‘PRE-BETRAYAL’) Lote Tuqiri.
According to the Herald, Cadbury Daine almost conceded a penalty when he ‘shoved’ Corey Parker. We’re pretty certain that shit wasn’t no shove. It was a bitch slap. Left hand to the left cheek, left hand to the right cheek on the way back. Bitch. Slap. Everyone says so. And Corey Parker definitely agrees because he grabbed his cheek in shock and made the international mouth-open OH NO YOU DIDN’T BITCHSLAP ME face. Gold.
Now, on to the main event.
The Dragons aren’t messing around tonight and within about five minutes have me face-down with hysterics as Jarrod Sammut lets a kick fly directly into little Jamie Soward’s face and it ricochets from his forehead back into Sammut’s chest to a surprised and delighted Petero Civoneciva.
There is actually an audible smack when it hits Soward’s tiny peanut head and Kiki shudders and flails a little bit due to flashbacks of a football-to-temple incident in the school playground in year nine.
The cobras … the cobras!
Old warhorse Petero can’t manage to turn it into a try and I’m unexpectedly sympathetic because he looks completely fucking exhausted. He’s drenched in sweat and starting to sway a little. Not to mention that ole Oak Tree Petero already has giant beige knee braces on both knees and one elbow strapped. Bitch has enough problems. We also couldn’t handle it if anyone else league-related dies this year.
Crafty Trent Waterhouse breaks through the bewildered Dragons to send Rhys Wesser in for a Penrith try. Go Danny Glover, go! Ray Warren thinks the Panthers are particularly ominous tonight. I like to think ominous is today’s word on Rabs’ word of the day calendar.
And even though the Dragons are now 6-0 down, Jason ‘Flossy’ Nightingale JUST LOVES PLAYING RUGBY LEAGUE! As he tackles a passing Panther we are certain we see him giggle in delight. Kiki christens him the Labrador of rugby league, and if he had a tail he’d be wagging it now.
He even looks a tiny bit joyful when he attempts a left hand sideline run for a try and is tossed into touch. Oh, Flossy.
The commentary team are also sparkling today, and when little Jamie Soward and his headgear clean up a ball in the goal area Andrew Voss chips in “Soward was good skill”. Sage words, Vossy.
Phil Gould refuses to be outdone in the commentary box and decrees that the Dragons’ ball-running remains strong.
“It may have only been eight metres but it was a bloody good run”.
Who knew there were criteria for a run on the field other than how far you run on the field? Not I. Yhat’s amazing, Gus. Gould has also named two Penrith players ‘Big F’ and ‘Big P’ and doesn’t seem to care that no one has any idea which players he’s talking about.
Snuggly Ben Hornby goes down in a tackle and comes up with a bleeding eye. Kiki is distraught that her Hornbag is injured, but one plus is that the trickles of blood are making his usually undefined eyes stand out a lot on screen. Ben Creagh’s head was also broken a little a few tackles ago and is still bleeding. Why does Creagh’s head always break??
It upsets Kiki a lot and she starts reminding me that scientists say brain damage is one of three causative elements in creating serial killers. If he also has a personality disorder we are all in trouble. WATCH OUT FOR BEN CREAGH KIDS.
Down on the sideline Andrew Johns has also finally reached the conclusion that the Panthers are looking ominous tonight. Yep, definitely the word of the day on the boss’ desk down at Channel Nine. Except when Joey says it it comes out as ‘onimous’. Bless.
Gus Gould continues to up the insanity levels and announces:
“This is an opportunity for Penrith to pull their pants down”.
THAT’S NOT AN EXPRESSION GUS.
I don’t really know what happens then because I am distracted by Wade Graham who has some of the most beautiful eyelashes I’ve ever seen (that’s not a joke, I really was. Kiki was too), but it ends with Luke Lewis scoring another try for the Panthers.
Flossy looks pissed and it’s really unnerving. Like being growled at by a Guinea Pig. Jason Ryles is chewing his nails and I think that explains why the Dragons couldn’t stop Lewis getting across for a try. Pay attention, bitches. Matty Johns reminds me why I am completely in love with him by pointing out ‘LUKE LEWIS IS A FOOTY PLAYER’. Indeed.
The Dragons prance into the second half breathing fire and bleeding Ben Creagh – now with preventative tape around his skull – stretches an arm around Sammut to score a lovely try. Chesty Bond Gasnier is joyful, but Ben Creagh and the also bleeding Hornbag don’t so much look happy as they do like refugees who’ve just cleared the crest of the hill and realised they still can’t see the border. Those head injuries must be painful.
Jamie Soward marches on the spot in his little soldier dance and converts for a 12-6 score.
Only a moment later Soward passes to Josh Morris of the Amazing Morris Twins who strides through the defence and sets off sprinting for the tryline. With his long long legs he eats up the distance and dives in for a try, his regulation NRL shorts looking like natty little hotpants on his aforementioned long long legs.
Fun fact: Kiki has named her ample boobs after the Morris twins in honour of her team. I believe that lefty is Brett and righty is named Josh, but you may like to confirm that with her.
Another conversion for the Tiny Dancer Jamie Soward. 12-12.
Even more wonderfully, Andrew Johns makes a joke. AND IT’S FUNNY. He watches dancey Soward march on the spot and observes that as a retired player he has plenty of time for leisure activities, and on his last African Safari he realised this looks exactly like the mating dance of the African Love Bird. See! Funny! Good for you Joey darlin.
Flossy. Oh, Flossy. The next play sees precious little Floss kneel and reach out his arms to catch a falling bomb kicked by Penrith. Only, no catch is made. His little arms stay motionless as the ball hits the ground and bounces away. Flossy looks up, looks down at his arms. Looks up, looks down. Somehow, the ball is nowhere to be seen. And when, two minutes later, he stands and sees a slow-motion replay of the moment on the big screen, the tiny cogs in his labrador brain click into place. I DIDN’T CATCH IT. He screams fuck. It’s oddly adorable. Our hearts explode in unison from the cute.
After a slew of ridiculous penalties against the Panthers, Frank Pritchard (could he be the mysterious Big F?) reels out of a tackle to slam the back of his head against Hornbag’s right cheek. A bleeding Big F staggers away as Hornbag grabs his head and realises he now has a bleeding gash under his eye to match the seeping taped one above. MY FRICKIN EYE!
Kiki hugs a pillow and offers to kiss it better. Clearly she worries not about AIDS. Or Hep C.
In what is surely a gift from God to gay men everywhere, Brett Morris is pulled down in a tackle and his whole, bare, shining white arse is de-shorted in all it’s glory to the entire stadium and thousands of TV viewers. FM Forums have already dubbed it THE BEST DAKKING OF THE YEAR.
It really is amazing. I think we might have seen testicle. I’m kind of shocked.
Soward pops in a field goal for 13-12 but the guys from Channel 9 are too busy showing replays of Brett Morris’ arse to care.
Gouldy crows with glee ‘I told you they’d pull their pants down!’
OK I stand corrected Gouldy. But just this once.
Matty Johns skeeves into the microphone that he doesn’t know which beaches in Woollongong Bretty’s been going to but he cerrtainly doesn’t have any tan lines. He also suggests a shot of Bretty’s full moon as a future NRL ad campaign. Oh Matty, you homo. That’s why we love you.
In a final storm of anarchy, and a cutting moment of indignity, Hornbag drops the ball, falls over, and resurfaces with blood pouring from his eyes like a Latin saint.
In a highlight of the game so far they whip him off field and send him back like this.
Kiki’s being all precious about immortalising Hornbag’s humiliation, but fuck off cause she can’t type. That is HILARIOUS. Best of all is the pure rage in his eyes. Bitch knows he looks ridiculous, and he is Not Pleased with this turn of events.
MY FRICKIN HEAD!
The whistle blows to give the Dragons a 13-12 win but Hornbag can’t crack a smile. Physically, I mean. That tape looks tight. The draggies hug in their fleecy red robes and might I suggest that Matthew Bell come spend the night consoling himself in my pants, thanks.