the oh errol awards 2010: the mr. cellophane award

October 11th, 2010

Struggling after the first full week since the NRL season ended? Believe me, we are too. Two nights ago I dreamed Tim Mannah dressed up as Aladdin and came with me to a costume party. TRUE STORY. He was wearing the vest and the fez and everything (I was dressed as Jasmine). I took this as a sign from the universe that we needed a way to distract ourselves until the Four Nations started.

Best way to distract ourselves? With everyone’s favourite pointless and slightly offensive awards: the Errols. *

* in no way endorsed by the Estate of Mr. Flynn.

Today, we’re revealing the first category of the 2010 Oh Errol Awards, and asking you to vote for who you think should take it out. There’ll be a new category up every day this week and the big announcement for the lucky winners will be out next Friday. I know, I know, it’s too exciting for words. Intern John-John refuses to even consider that he won’t take something out and is currently practising his acceptance speeches in the powder room mirror. So before he starts making out with himself again, let’s hit the first category, one that’s very dear to our hearts.


Before you ask, maybe I did name this after a song from the Broadway musical Chicago. It’s just how I roll, okay? With glitter, and spangles.

And while I was googling to find the YouTube clip of John C. Reilly singing it, I also found this little piece of internet magic:

OH, DRUNK FRAT BOYS YOU MAKE ME SMILE. But without further hilarious, cling-wrapped homo ado, let’s get down to the nominees.


Also fondly known as Captain Courageous by the Dragons faithful. Hornbag is the reigning premiership-winning Captain. He’s a halfback, a general, a stoic. He’s played 85 billion games. In the Grand Final he was brilliant on his feet, his passing was on song and he made some damaging breaks. He was also that dude who held up the trophy at the end.

And do you know who knows these facts? No one outside the Illawarra region. Straight up, Hornbag could appear on a most wanted poster at NRL headquarters and no one would turn him in because he’s Mr. Cellophane in a red and white training tracksuit. As our resident Dragons fan Kiki would say: “just because he’s pale like milk and his eyelashes/eyebrows/facial hair are invisible from a distance!”  That’s no reason to forget Captain Courageous. So let’s all take a moment to say as one: WE SEE YOU, HORNBAG.


Oh, Robbo. There’s a certain irony in the fact that the most notorious thing Robbo has ever done was dance naked on national television with his head cut out of screen. What a metaphor for his relationship with the public. Remember when he scored a hattrick of tries in the Grand Final thrashing of the Storm? Yeah, no one else remembers either. And when he offloaded to give teammate Steve Menzies a fairytale farewell final moment instead of taking it himself? Again, no one else does, so don’t feel guilty. Robbo’s the Barbara Hershey to Dave Williams’ Bette Midler, the Jan Brady to his Marcia. I even wrote a post about it, which I assume no one remembers either.


One question: what the HELL does Scott Prince have to do to get back in a rep side? He’s either the second or third best halfback in league along (depending on your personal persuasion) along with Johnathon Thurston and Cooper Cronk. He took home a Dally M award for halfback of the year. But even with JT hobbling around on crutches he can’t get a run in the Maroons or Kangaroos squads. It’s a TRAVESTY. What gives, selectors? Even Prince Scotty the Caramel’s brilliant on-field arguments with referees have taken a back seat this year to Robbie Farah, JT, Cooper Cronk and the bitch-tastic Braith Anasta.

All pics: Getty Images

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footy observations: tigers, chickens and chicken legs

February 6th, 2010

The important news is that Errol HQ will be pretty empty for the next week or so. You see, Intern John John’s busy with pre-season training up in FNQ, work experience boy Lachie is spending the weekend out in Penrith at the Panther’s members day …. And us? We have a busy week ahead of BEING AWESOME.

Tomorrow Kiki and I are hitting up the Return to South Sydney game at Redfern Oval, and entertaining some lucky peeps at a pre-game party. Then we’re flying up to the Gold Coast to bring you live bloggy-updates about all the All-Stars vs Indigenous preparations.  Lozzy’s volunteered to mind the nest/water the plants/make sure no neighbourhood hooligans break in and steal our booze, then she’s coming up on Friday so the whole Errol crew can watch the game together.

Okay, so maybe not so much “BEING awesome” as “BEING three losers … around awesome people”. Potato, Potahto.

And if 2009 was the year of rugby league scandal (aren’t they all?) …. Then 2010 marks the Return to League. Every Lote, Timana and his dog is coming back to the loving arms of rugby league.

We knew you’d come back, babies!

Timana Tahu has come from the dark side of the force, aka rugby union, to play with the Eels. Lote’s come from the Telegraph’s back page to sign with the Tigers … even Greg Bird has come back from his busy schedule of court appearances to sign with the Titans.

It’s just like that Peter Allen song: all of the shiiiiiiips come back to the shoooorrrrre. He wrote that about rugby league, right? Yep I thought so. He totally did.

Just quietly, he would also totally approve of Greg Bird’s choice of team: the Titans have by far the prettiest uniforms in the league. I know this because my fierce gay friend Rick tells me so. Also, because Prince Scotty the Caramel plays for the Titans, and whichever uniform he wears is by default the prettiest.

More importantly, how many potential halves do the Titans have now? Mat? Scott? Preston? Greg? Is Carty running a full two-string team now, like NFL? Shit is ridiculous. And by ‘ridiculous’, clearly I mean ‘I’m shitty they don’t play for my team’.

I also, apparently, have the mind of a small child. Because anytime anyone mentions Lote’s new job, they seem to use the phrase ‘Lote the tiger’, which causes my brain to produce this image of Tony the Tiger:


I like to think Lote picked the Tiges purely for this reason. Mark my words within six months he’ll be wearing a jaunty red neckerchief with his Tigers uniform and spruiking Frosties breakfast cereal in the ad breaks of the Channel 7 evening news. Mark. My. Words.

Kiki thinks the powers that be at the Tigers needed to hire Lote to keep up their dreadlock quote. After losing Daine Laurie to the Panthers they were in serious deficit.

It’s also possible he just wanted to be close to Blake Ayshford. After all, the man has eyes.

And while other teams have been busy bringing ex-league players back to the fold, my boys the Roosters have been busy signing up … Steggles.

That’s right kids, Steggles chickens are the new major sponsors of the Sydney Roosters, and it’s the greatest thing I’ve ever heard. If there’s one thing Errol loves, it’s Really Literal Thinking.

Remember that time Kiki posted about going to Orange AND USED A PICTURE OF AN ORANGE?

Yep, we are all over this chicken-to-chicken connection. Sure, as Brett Oaten kindly pointed out, it might not be the best fit for a team of Roosters to be sponsored by a company whose primary business is the wholesale slaughter of chickens.

The chicken formerly known as Brent Grose.

And as twitterer and generally hilarious human Jen Bennett suggested:

… now we know what they do with underperforming players. Wait, has anyone seen Fittler recently?

LIES! They told me they sent Freddy to a farm!

I like to think Daniel Conn was being serious when he told facebook now they get paid in chicken. Mmmmm, chicken. What footy player doesn’t love food, hmmmm? More importantly, what self-respecting footy player doesn’t love chicken?

We know for sure that Stanley Waqa does, because he told us so the first time we ever met him, back when he was playing for the Newtown Jets. I believe his exact words were – as he looked up from eating a chicken schnitzel: “… I love chicken”.

I rest my case.

All they need now is to convince the Steggles sister brand – Bartter Eggs – to sponsor the Roosters Under 20s side. It’s called Brand Synergy. Get onto it, Nick Politis.

[Personally I think the Chooks should print all position numbers on jerseys this year as Nugget 1, Nugget 2 etc etc – lozzy]

But back to the Return to South Sydney match tomorrow: the Bunnies will be playing the Manly Sea Eagles, and there’s one man we’re especially excited to see.

Michael Robertson … come on down!

The reason? We really, really need to check out his backside.

I’m serious. According to the Cumberland Courier, back in the day when Robbo was signed to the Sea Eagles, he was a legs-and-arse charity case. The generally accepted wisdom was that a footy player needed strong legs and a lot of junk in the trunk (this certainly explains Wendell’s success), but Robbo:

“… failed miserably on the sight test. His legs wouldn’t have been out of place on an anorexic chicken while his backside was non-existent.”

Poor Robbo, with his chicken legs and sad, unpadded pelvis.

And poor Robbo for having it revealed in the newspaper. Why does the media constantly print and broadcast embarrassing things about Robbo and his crotchal region? Remember the wang dance?

But rest assured, because we are committed journalists and confirmed perves, we will use our time tomorrow at Redfern Oval wisely, and make sure that we suss out the current state of Robbo’s union, so to speak.

Till next time, make sure you check our twitter account for all the vital Errol hapz. See you on the Goldy!


women in league round – the power of pink

June 16th, 2009



Miss me? Thought youse did! God knows I haven’t blogged in awhile. To be honest, I’ve had an existential crisis of sorts. Okay ‘existential crisis’ makes it sound all intellectual and life changing. Basically I’ve been wearing my velour dressing gown more than usual and shuffling around the house thinking SHIT SHIT SHIT I CAN’T WRITE ANYMORE.

Anyway, what better week to make my return than the deliciously pink Women in League Round? YAY! I suprisingly enough, love love love pink! As has been well established on Errol, I am not all that girlie. In fact the other day my hair dresser described me as a ‘sporty tomboy’. Which is completely lolz because the last time I did something even remotely sporty was get hit in the head with a footy in Year 9. Fuck me sideways ,that HURT. To this day whenever I’m at a game and someone kicks for touch I dive for cover under Sassy’s fro. Fro of steel!


Anyway, I can’t walk in heels, I sit with my legs open like a dude and I reguarly find unintentional dreadlocks in my hair but godamn I love the colour pink. In fact I’m writing this blog from my delightfully pink laptop right now. So needless to say I am all over the idea of a whole WEEK of pink! Especially when it benefits breast cancer research. Some heinous cynics have dismissed it as a ‘marketing exercise’. Well to put it as eloquently as I can…STUFF THEM.

How can anyone hate on this? I mean really. It’s giant boofy football players with PINK FACIAL HAIR. This shit is amazing. We can’t decide which one is our fave! Love Hall for his finite work on the goatee, Stewart for the fact he came up with the idea and Robbo because it’s just so damn ironic. Robbo is the sad clown of the NRL (have you noticed how completely maudlin he looks on the field this year?) and seeing him sporting something so ridiculous has made our year.

And of course, rugby league’s most famous beard had to get involved.


In fact there’s not much ‘The Wolfman’ ISN’T involved in at the moment. Bitch is everywhere. We are considering requesting some sort of finders fee from his manager, for realz. We discovered his awesome in 08 literally months before the mainstream media. Godamnit, it’s rough being ahead of the curve.

As you can see, in his quest to become the cheesiest player in the NRL, he not only pinked up his beard also inexplicably dyed his moustache jet black. WHY DAVID, WHHYYYY?? The bright pink beard wasn’t crazy enough for you? Oh, honey….no. Lucky we love you.

All that aside, huge Errol props the Manly boys for sacrificing vanity for a good cause.

Now onto the Panthers. I knew they were going to wear pink uniforms this week but godammmmmn they were PINK. Jerseys, shorts, socks, shoes…even headgear.Everything was pink. It was a team of straight up MUSK STICKS.

Matt Muskington sucessfully makes his debut for the Penrith Panthers

Not only did the Panties rock out in glaring pink, they also grew beards to raise awareness for breast cancer research. Whoever came up with this idea – you are Awesome. And yes it deserves capitalisation. Because if there’s anything we love more than a footy player with a beard, it’s a footy player with an altruistic beard.

Without such charitable exercises how would we know that youngins like Wade Graham can suprisingly cultivate such luxurious beards? And how would we know who Shane Elford was? Never noticed him when he was clean shaven, but as soon as his beard started to come through HELLLOOOO LOVER.

(Yes I could have picked a photo of WG with his tongue actually in his mouth….. but it’s funnier this way. Sorry, Wade.)

Sadly for my tips, the Panthers lost. But it did mean I got to giggle at Daniel Mifsud’s cheap jokes about the ‘pink panties going down’. Hehe…panties. (yes THAT Mifsud)


Now, onto the Most Lovably Awesome Team In The Universe, the mighty mighty Dragons! WHEEEEE! My babies busted out the Pink V once again to honour both women in league, and the Joanne McKay Foundation. Last time they wore the pink I made some predictably distasteful jokes about lady vees. This year I have decided to class it up a bit. Okay, that’s a lie….I just don’t like to recycle jokes. UNLIKE YOU WIL ANDERSON.

Sometimes I think the Dragons sit around and think up ways to make me love them even MORE. Shit is getting ridiculous. As if my boys playng brilliantly in baby pink wasn’t enough, the adorable bitches decided to kick it up a notch with a giant on field love in. Look at that photo! It’s like pure distilled joy! HOT BITCH COOPER IS SMILING. He never smiles! (Notice the ass grab on B.Moz. Respect Coops, respeecccct.)

In fact, my teams display of public affection has inspired me. I am going to launch a range of romantic greeting cards with their images on the front. Oh Kiki, you’re crazy you say? Oh no….no I ain’t. Check this shit out.


Oh yeh, I am gonna be so rich.

Massive love to the NRL, One Community and everyone involved in the Women in League initative. It actually lasts until the end of June, and we have been invited as guests of the CRL to a dinner on Wednesday night to further celebrate the contribution of women to the game.

We have it on good authority that the NSW Blues may be there. I can’t promise I won’t get drunk, latch onto Justin Poore’s ankle and scream PLS DON’T LEAVE THE DRAAGGGOOOONS. Personally, I think dragging me along behind him as he tries to escape would make for excellent strength training. Yep.

(Pics from Getty Images, League HQ and the wonderful BS)


oh errol fantasy league: round 13

June 10th, 2009

Obviously here at Errol we really love our fantasy league. Personally though, I can never just like something a lot – I have to be a kind of obsessed with it. TV shows (Arrested Development, Friday Night Lights), celebs (Taylor Hanson, Will Arnett), food (I still can’t eat Nacho Cheese Doritos after being addicted to them in Year 9)…

…and right now I’m obsessed with fantasy league.

Might as well face it…

How do I know? Two things:

a) on Saturday morning I was dreaming that new Wildcats recruit DanDan Mortimer scored really really well, and I’m fairly sure I woke myself up because I was so excited I was talking in my sleep. I remember sitting up and talking to myself in bed about DanDan’s score. I WOKE MYSELF UP TALKING ABOUT FANTASY LEAGUE. Why am I single?

b) on Sunday night I came home at 1am after watching an Islander cover band do such classics as Kiss by Prince and Will Smith’s heartfelt classic Gettin Jiggy Wit It, drunk dialled Suchy and whipped out Kiki’s compy to check our fantasy scorez.

Oh, me.


The Wildcats scored over 1000 again!! In fact their score this week is the second highest in the comp with 1030. Unfortunately they didn’t beat their opponents, The Johnny Rapers, but we’re super proud of them anyway.

On a slightly freaky sidenote, the  High School Musical 3 opening number ‘Now or Never’ just came on my mp3 player. It has cheerleaders going “WILDCATS…we’re the champions…gunna win!”. YOU’RE DAMN RIGHT! Writing about our Wildcats while listening to A SONG about Wildcats. CREEPY. And yes you are correct, my life is awesome.

Turns out my dream was right. DAN MORTIMER REALLY DID SCORE WELL! 67 points. I am pretty much The Fantasy League Whisperer. I might get that on a tshirt.

Other notes: Robbie Farah has apparently come to terms with Wildcat leadership with 176 points, Hornbag is clearly beside himself with joy at being re-introduced to the team and scored 70 points, and Dean Young produced his best fantasy score to date with 81. Even when the Dragons lose it pays off having so many in the team. THANKS BABIES!


This week the Hotties were up against The Poodles. I’m glad I decided against adding my own personal fantasy team, The Hedgehogs (now defunct), to the Tele comp. There’s no way I could go up against the Hotties OR the Wildcats.

Anyway the Hotties beat the Poodles 878 to 696. YAAY HOTTIES! Not their best score ever, but quite respectable.

This round’s standout star is most definitely our beloved Intern John John who scored a magnificent 90 POINTS! Unfortunately the same can’t be said for his brother Davey, who scored a try (props to Sunday Roast and WIN news for that shot of the full moon btw. GET IT, COZ HE’S THE WOLFMAN) and still only brought in 30. Tries are 15 points, so basically he did shit all for the rest of the game.

James McManus…welcome to the Hotties. AND THANKS FOR NOT PLAYING THIS WEEK. God dammit. I had to ditch Robbo to make room for him too.

BUT I JUST DON’T UNDERSTAND WHY YOU GUYS?! I’m wearing shorty shorts and everything!

pic: simon dean


Let’s see how the Tiny Dancers are doing. Hopefully better than Jamie ‘Tiny Dancer’ Soward, who we were very worried about when he was knocked out on Monday night.

Not a great week for the Tiny Dancers, must’ve been the swine flu in the air. My excellent coaching skillz meant not only did I have a captain who wasn’t playing, but no vice either. I am awesome. I probably should’ve taken Dell off the bench, then his 72 points would’ve contributed, instead I had Joel Moon’s zinc nipples score 11. All in all it was my not-so-supercoach efforts that led the boys to a measly 627. Better luck next week.

So…not much better off than Sowie then. Boo.


two-for-one recap: remedial footy and rain gods

April 2nd, 2009

No proper recap from me this week. Instead you get two incoherent rants about two different games smooshed together to look like one.  Oh, you wanted a comprehensive game run-down? Well:

a) I was hungover for one of these games, and

b) it’s my blog and I’m lazy.

So you better like what you get or I will kick you in the shins.


Aah I love when these two play.  It’s a bonanza of retro!  Clearly Marc Herbert and Terry Campese have taken time out from their busy schedule of signing up for World War I to be here, and Nathan Hindmarsh and Joel Reddy have kindly time-travelled from the seventies to make it a fair competition.

I actually mistook Reddy for Hindy when he was gossiping in the corner of the changeroom with Eric Grothe, Jr before the game, which obviously means his mop is coming closer and closer to the awesomeness of Hindy’s.  Close … but not quite.

Pic. Mark Evans

Captain Hindy of the Wildcats has brought a whole new game this year in terms of hair.  BEST HAIR EVER, RIGHT?  We say yes.

Coincidence that this Best Hair Ever has Parra sitting at number 7 on the ladder with two wins out of three?  Coincidence that Joel Reddy seems to be playing better than ever now that he’s gone the mop?  You can’t argue with Science, people.  You can’t argue with Science.

Ok so I haven’t quite figured out where Fui Fui Moi Moi’s new mullet fits into this theory, but I’m working on it, babies.  I really am. I even have my lab coat on as we speak.

Disclaimer: may be stand-in science lady and not actual Sassy

Do you know what though?  There’s something better than the Parra festival of Kick-ass Seventies Hair … the comeback of Eric Grothe, Jr.  That’s right bitches, GROTHE IS BACK.  It’s THE RENAISSANCE OF GROTHE.

Pic. Mark Evans

Renaissance is the perfect word too, cause Guru isn’t just the comeback kid of Parra … he’s also – as Suchy reminded us the other day – the lead guitarist of Three Day Grothe AND lead singer of Shinobi.  Bitch doesn’t just play footy, he’s a musician. And – get this – a comedian.  Three Day Grothe … see what he did there?  Eric Grothe, Jr is pretty much a Renaissance man. Bet he plays chess and studies archaeology too.

The Errol office was filled with glee when he put down the match-winning try. SOMEONE DOESN’T HAVE TO GO BACK TO RESERVE GRADE!  SOMEONE GETS TO STAY IN FIRST GRADE WITH THE BIG BOYS!

How does it feel, Eric?

… Aw yeah, pretty good. I’m excited to get to use proper pencils and pieces of paper with corners again.

And is there a particular reason you’re not wearing a shirt for this interview?

Not allowed to have proper shirts in Reggies, only jerseys. Coach says we might pull the buttons off, try and eat them and get choked.

The only failure in this game was that Canberra couldn’tquitemanage to bring back the scrum-split for a try.  Next time, darlins.



As Kiki said, even though it COMPLETELY ruined our tips (thanks for nuthin, Sea Eagles) we loved seeing the Panthers get up at Brookvale.  And not just because our favourite Baby Panthers Lachlan Coote and Wade Graham were total stars.

Pic. Phil Hillyard

Yes, we did discover them.  Feel free to send us royalties of some kind.

It was also a massive game of firsts. First time that Steve Matai busted his hair out in a curly ponytail, first time we ever saw work experience boy Lachie pack into a scrum. (Which didn’t go too well, if you were wondering. Think: “LACHLAN. GET YER HEAD IN”.)

Also the first time Des Hasler got so incredibly enraged that he affected the physical world.  We are massive fans of Des Hasler’s Rage.  One of my personal highlights of the 2008 season was seeing Dave Williams fumble the ball and Dessie scream ‘MOTHERFUCKER’ from the coaching box.  We are also massive fans of his full and feathery head of golden hair. Which is why I especially love it when he spews a tirade into the coaching mike then concludes it by whipping off his headset and shaking his mane as if to say AND THAT’S ALL THE ABUSE YOU GET.  Oh, Des.

I would actually like it if they could somehow organise for there to be a Dessie-cam every time I watch Manly play on tv. Just a little Dessie-cam box down in the left corner. That Monday night game was a festival of fumbles and penalties and general no-no times and for every single one that happened we screamed out from the couch to see Dessie’s reaction. ‘Cut to Des!’ we cried. ‘SHOW US DESSSIEEEEEE!’

Dessie just really cracked it this time.  It’s no coincidence that it started pissing down at Brookie precisely as Des was giving his halftime speech and/or silent treatment. You can trust me on that, cause I have a lab coat.

It was raining so bloody hard Matai had to put his hair in a bun. That bitch Hasler has found a way to channel his fury and control the weather.  He’s a weather god … like THOR. Cept instead of a hammer he has a headset.

You know those boys know what they’re in for too. I swear little Shane Neumann is looking up at the coach’s box in terror.

Michael Robertson on the other hand … well he pretty much looks like that all the time now.


We’re getting kinda Concerned about Robbo, to be honest. With Brett Stewart out, Robbo’s been shunted back to fullback.

And if you look really closely in his eyes, every time one of the wingers does something good, Robbo sees his spot on the wing slipping away and dies just a little bit inside. Same thing whenever Adam Cuthbertson does something good and people discuss how he has a rocking Wolfman beard now. Especially the same thing whenever Robbo fumbles the ball or passes across the sideline to an imaginary man and has no no times.

If you’re wondering I also missed some of the game because at one point the commentary team said Shane Neumann “just found himself in an awkward situation on a wet evening” and I giggled for ages.  Who HASN’T, Shane.  Who hasn’t.


And lastly I wanna introduce a Brand New Errol Superstar. We were always Michael Gordon fans, but that was before he went ahead and grew a moustache.

I wonder if the Errol girls will like my new mo?

Well actually, more like I realised he was hot last year, then completely forgot he existed during the off-season because I have a memory like Swiss cheese. Although apparently I am very consistent in my taste in men because I thought the same thing all over again this year.  I win at life!

It’s just like the time I sauntered over and cracked onto a cute scruffy blond boy at the Brighton Bar, only for him to tell me I had done exactly the same thing and pashed him the week before. OOPS. On the bright side he didn’t seem to mind.

Anyway. God knows there’s nothing we love more than a man with a mo … and we’re 99% sure he grew it specifically to be on Errol.

UNCANNY! It’s like he is Errol Flynn. Well we love it, baby. Thumbs up, Mister Gordon.

Thanks to the lovely BS for the MG and Eric Grothe caps. Check out the whole blog, why don’t ya?


men we love: michael robertson

October 10th, 2008

Let me tell you a story, kittens.  A long time ago, in a mythical land known as ‘the locker room’ the nation of Manly were in mourning.  They’d been at war with the fearsome Melbourne, and lost, and all were deep in the sads.  But amongst them dwelled a man with joy in his heart and a desire to make all well again, so in the midst of his despair he leapt forth and performed the wang dance.

It made the world smile, and the proud nation fought on into the next year to finally claim victory over their nemeses.

That man was Mick Robertson.  Oh, Robbo.  Not only did he unwittingly do the wang dance in front of a pay TV cameraman who accidentally broadcast it on national television (I’m not linking it, you’ll have to look for it on youtube yourselves you lazy bitches).  He also prompted one of my favourite ever lines of news reporting:

While [Steve] Menzies is interviewed by a journalist after the NRL decider on September 30, Robertson can clearly be seen in the background swirling his genitalia.

“SWIRLING HIS GENITALIA”.  If that didn’t win a Walkley then Australian journalism is in trouble like woah.  And yes, I know he said it was embarassing, but clearly we don’t think so.  The Oh Errol office is proudly pro-pantslessness.  We employ Intern John-John, and that should say it all.

But forget about the swirling talk (hehe swirling, it’s still funny).  Know what he did this year?

Pic: Sam Mooy

Oh, just scored three tries in a premiership-winning side, that’s all.

Just wrote himself into the history books as one of three people in a hundred years to get the grand final hat-trick.  Meh.

Skilfully avoided Billy Slater’s flying kung-fu kicks to ground the ball.

You know, just equalled the record for the most tries scored in a Grand Final, in the game with the biggest margin in League history.  Whatevs.

And when he had the chance to score a fourth try and be the only man in history to score four in a Grand Final … he off-loaded to the Beav instead.

“That was the most exciting part for me … giving the pass to Beaver to score,” Robertson said.

“I knew he was there. It will be a highlight for me for a long time.”

That bitch is a giver.

But I’m starting to think maybe even Robbo is about to hit the wall on charity.

Consider: Davey Williams’ performance in his first ever final earned him a Kangaroos jersey and 22,000 news articles.

Robbo’s hat-trick earned him 2,000 mentions and a spot in the Scottish team.  (Um, no offence, Scotland. I love the bagpipes in ‘You’re the Voice’! My family name is originally MacNeill! I’m one of youuuu! Please don’t smother me in tartan).

Seriously. Are they trying to make him feel unloved?  Is he invisible?  WHAT DOES A BOY HAVE TO DO TO GET ASKED OUT AROUND HERE?  Robbo’s too pretty to be a wallflower! 

Oh, but what about the beard, you say!  It’s the wolfman beard.  It’s so unique and noticeable.  That’s what draws attention and makes all the difference.  That’s why Robbo has been unceremoniously booted from all the Manly grand final limelight.  He’s just not as distinctive.

Pic: Mark Evans

Maybe Robbo’s too nice to disagree, but if he wasn’t, he would totally say I HAD IT FIRST, BITCHES.

Marcia, Marcia, Marcia!

I am outraged.  And I have decided to take on Robbo’s cause, because I love an underdog.  I resent that he’s become the Jan Brady of Manly (TM Kiki).  I’m worried that everyone falling all over Dave ‘Marcia’ Williams might send him over the edge.

Look at him!  Even at semi-finals time he was getting close to snapping.   I worry for his mental health.

Dave: MATE, can you believe we’re in the finals? Birds have been all over me.
Robbo: … yeah, it’s pretty sweet.

Dave: I’m not even kidding. They’re wolfman crazy! Can’t keep their hands off me.
Robbo: ….

Dave: I’ve had to break up fights down at the Steyne, for reals.
Robbo: …

Dave: I just say look, ladies. Ladies, ladies, calm down. There’s enough of the Wolfman to go round.
Robbo: … kill me.

Coincidence it was him that shaved off Dave’s beard?  Hmmm?

Oh, Robbo, honey. Don’t worry. We see you! And with Steve Bell and the Beav moving on next year, you are totally the front-runner for Lozzy’s new Manly hubby. Come on over for gins and snuggles whenever you feel down.