We’ve been up on the Goldy for All-Stars week, which, along with City-Country week, is basically the footy blogger version of Christmas. What were we doing, you ask? Well, obviously we were generally hanging around, being loud, and making pervy comments. Cause, you know, fish gotta swim.
But in between we made some little videos for OneHD:
The only sad thing is that so much awesomeness didn’t make it into our videos. We wish you could’ve seen Jamal Idris put Cliff Lyons in a play-headlock, or the under-16s player from Queensland who HAD A FULL BEARD. Or when we asked Greg Bird for an interview and he thought the mike was for karaoke: “oh, do you want me to sing?”
Sing Billy Joel, Birdy!
Or the afternoon at White Water World when a photographer asked Preston Campbell to pick up a kid in the wave pool one more time so he could capture it on film and the kid freaked the hell out. If you haven’t seen a kid in Preston’s arms yelling ‘F*CK! LET ME GOOOOO!’ like a stranger-danger educational video, you haven’t lived. Amazing.
We may also have given Cory Paterson a marshmallow rose to make up for the fact that we didn’t get him a special Valentine’s gift like the sweet teddy bear we bought for George Rose. See! We still love ya Cory!
But possibly the weirdest moment of the trip was as we left the All-Stars game at Skilled and Sassy was explaining – loudly, because she’s loud – how weird it is that everyone in Queensland is in love with Darren Lockyer (they totally are).
Then, all of a sudden, a dude in a Maroons jersey puffing on a durry appeared from nowhere and said “DID YOU HEAR THAT? SOMEONE’S TALKING SHIT ABOUT LOCKY!”
Is there some kind of … bat signal? Like a cut-out of Locky’s head that alerts Queenslanders when someone questions their footballing hero? Where did he come from? How did he knowwwwww?
Maybe he’s friends with the girl who sat next to us in the stands and had Queenslander tattooed on her back. In maroon. Queenslanders, you amaze us.
But there was one little bit of All-Stars magic that we caught on video just for y’all. Greg Bird has a conspiracy theory and he wants you to know all about it:
IT’S A MEDIA CONSPIRACY! You know it’s true. How else could one man have a record of SO MANY unflattering photos? You know it makes sense.
Now we’ll leave you with a selection of our favourite photos taken by Kiki and Yasmin. How many sleeps till All-Stars 2012?
We realised something today, and it blew our damn minds. Wendell Sailor is allegedly on a ‘twitter-break’ this week. This week also happens to be the exact same week when the Chilean miners stuck underground are being rescued. COINCIDENCE? I think not. It’s a ‘coincidence’ the way it was always so gosh-darn unlucky that whenever Superman appeared to rescue someone in dramatic fashion, Clark Kent was always ‘in the bathroom’ or ‘at the vending machine getting a Kit Kat’ and missed it.
It’s blatantly obvious that Wendell has a excavatin’, miner-resuin’ alter-ego who travels the world saving people in need. He’s like SUPERMAN. For reals.
So today as we get to announce the third prestigious Oh Errol award category for 2010, we’ve decided to name it in honour of Wendell, Superman and Clark Kent.
THE SUPERMAN AWARD FOR BEING BENIGN OFF THE FIELD, BRILLIANT ON IT
Yep, just like ‘Superman’ was super-slick and rocked a blue unitard and totally won Lois Lane’s heart, he had an alter-ego who struggled with life. Clark Kent was softly-spoken, had troubles with the ladies, and for all we know had low self-esteem as well because no one ever appreciated his adorable D-Squared inspired nerd outfits.
This year, there are three boys we’ve picked as embodying the Superman paradox. Sure, when you meet them they seem meek and mild, but don’t underestimate them, y’all. They still know how to kick ass on the field and they did it in 2010.
And sure, you can leave a comment and vote for some other completely random dude, but I will personally guarantee you can’t find anyone more deserving than the Errol nominees for 2010.
JASON ‘FLOSSY’ NIGHTINGALE
You all saw this one coming, huh? You know we love Jason ‘Flossy’ Nightingale more than life. Some people might call him “special” (Phil Gould’s words, not ours), just because he runs with his arms kind of bent like Brick Tamblyn from the movie Anchorman and doesn’t seem to ever brush his hair and looks constantly happy and confused like a human-shaped Labrador. But under those black footy boots that look like Clarks school shoes, Flossy’s a dynamo.
He also plays for New Zealand in International rep matches, and when the media asked him why, his answer went something like:
“I believe you are where you come from, and my family’s from New Zealand. I don’t have any ties to Australia, except I was born here, and grew up here, and went to school here and … um … you are where you come from.”
Maybe that’s why they didn’t award him the Clive Churchill medal for his amazing performance in the Grand Final this year: they were worried about what he’d say in his speech.
LUKE ‘GENERAL’ PATTEN
He’s been a solid fringe rep-grade player for years, a gentleman, and hilarious. But we think his finest moment was his appearance on the Footy Show touching items blindfolded and trying to guess what they were. When he was presented with a goat, he had no idea. And when he took off his blindfold to have a look, he said: “I still don’t know what it is”.
General, we love you just the way you are. Never, ever change.
So here’s a little story from the Errol vaults. It happened at a Roosters post-game presentation at Easts Leagues Club, the first time we ever encountered him, and it went a little something like this:
We’re resurrecting an Errol tradition – the footy recap! So for any of you who actually have lives and missed the Roosters vs Eels game on Saturday night – aka the GAME OF THE ROUND, BITCHES – you can experience all the magic right here.
So the game’s over at Parra Stadium, which means two things.
1. The Eel mascot will make an appearance, which is one of our favourite things. You know when he puts his tail between his legs, like a … ? Well, you know. He’s wildly inappropriate and totally not PG and this amuses us greatly.
2. The Eel’s mascot girlfriend will also make an appearance, which without fail makes me want to die. Seriously, a MASCOT has a better love life than me. Shit is dire.
As the Roosters run out I would like to remind you all that YES we do have the shortest shorts in the league and you all fucking love it. Brian Smith is rocking jeans and sneaks like ‘WHAT UP? I’M A COOL DAD’.
Fui Fui Moi Moi’s all corn-rowed and running out with the starting side which I think means the Eels mean business. He’s the human equivalent of a floor-length leather trenchcoat. He also has hamstring tape all up the back of his leg, and instead of the usual two-strap wishbone style it’s about eight pieces of tape. This is obviously because his legs are enormous.
The Chooks take the first set and within three minutes they’re within ten metres of the tryline. It only takes two more sets and M.Aubs runs for the line, hits a hole and busts through beautifully to ground the ball like a red-white-and-blue dynamo. MAAAUBS!
While Todd Carney’s lining up the conversion, Kiki rings me to dicuss how much on a scale of 1 to 10 we adore Maubs (it’s totally 10), and how much he’s realised his potential this season. She says his runs through the line and in open space remind her of Ben Creagh. I rant about how much I love his positioning in support when the halves have the ball and his pretty strawberry-blond hair and call him ‘the new Steve Menzies,’ which she’s maybe not quite convinced of.
Todd ‘Hotpants’ Carney bends forward to take the kick and Kiki predicts the short-shorts are going to end in disaster. “I think it’s only a matter of time until we see a testicle.”
Jarryd-with-a-Y Hayne, in his current incarnation as the Hayne-Plane, looks pissed.
[Note from Sassy's stepdad: He's a COM-PLAIN.]
[Note from Sassy: OMG SHUT UP THAT JOKE WAS TERRIBLE.]
Parra are having no luck, Feleti Mateo loses the ball, there’s some niggle afoot and the Roosters move into attack again. Hotpants Carney throws a magical cut-out pass to Sam Perrett who pops it back to Shaun Kenny-Dowall for a try. Or as we like to call him, PINK MAAAAN! So rosy! So fast!
The Roosters look so dangerous I may faint. I’m swooning all over the place at how well the forward pack are playing. Ryles! Myles! Kennedy! I’d marry you all right now!
They play through the middle and Mitchell Pearce throws an offload of beauty to Minichiello for a try. I am DYING. Jarryd-with-a-Y does not so much resemble a plane as something Medieval covered in spikes that they used to torture infidels. He looks even angrier than before.
At least I think he looks angry. On the next set Parra do some weird shit that makes me think they didn’t know it was the last tackle, so maybe all of them, including Jarryd-with-a-Y are just confused?
I would like to suggest that, to help with his confusion, Jarryd-with-a-Y might like to consult the safety card in his seat pocket. If he does, he will see that if he’s looking for a try, a line of red, white and blue players will show him how it’s done.
Welcome to Roosters Air! Where hotpants are just part of the uniform.
There’s some push’n'shove between Frank-Paul Nuuausala and Justin Poore. The Roosters give away about six straight penalties until Parra finally make it through for a Jarryd-with-a-Y try. UGH. STUPID PLANE ARMS. GOD. STAB STAB.
Wait, where was I?
Parra kick to the Chooks’ line and for some reason, instead of playing at it, every single man just stands around and discusses whether they prefer Johnathan Cainer or Mystic Medusa’s horoscopes while the ball bounces. Kane Linnett (hi Kane! We remember you fondly from the Jets!) is the first to put down his chai and grab the ball, then sprints downfield, offloading at the last second to Phil Graham for a try.
Kiki rings me and we both admit we actually had goosebumps on our forearms. If we weren’t ladies, we would probably also have actual footy-induced boners. Amazing! Hotpants gets his fourth conversion. Four for you Todd Carney! You go Todd Carney!
Finally the Eels do something. A Tim Tam Tahu break from Plane pass, a Hotpants Carney intercept, Sam Perrett loses the ball, I think I’m having a stroke, and Hindy runs 30 metres to score. Oh Hindy, we love you more than life. Do you know what you should do it you love Hindy too?
READ THE NEW ISSUE OF RLP GUYZ. WE GUEST-EDITED IT. IT HAS AN AWESOME HINDY FEATURE AND MUCH MUCH MORE. AVAILABLE NOW IN ALL GOOD NEWSAGENTS AND ALL BORDERS STORES.
In the second half, I won’t lie, I lost my mind a bit. All my notes say is this:
is todd adjusting his crotch tape in the middle of the field?
shit kane might be injured.
how good does todd look now he’s given up booze? so lean! so youthful!
adamson is ranting about “the passing and the christmas” is he drunk?
fuck me carney incredible spiral pass dead of joy.
are the short shorts a tribute to ronnie palmer? miss u, love u ronnie.
joel reddy dives over can’t see what happens cause 3 chooks. ref says held up. joel reddy is BLOWING UP like woah.
whee it’s proof you only have to wait three weeks to get a lucky refereeing decision.
hayne is he trying to start a fight??? he’s a war plane! throws a massive tantrum about … I have no idea. but it’s lolz.
oh god ANOTHER penalty oh god oh god oh god. penalty count is 11-4 FUCK ME.
roosters finally back in attack, their defence has been awesome. tim mannah is cycling and it’s cute.
imagine how dangerous skd could be if his passes were more reliable??
The Hayne plane is having difficulties.
wow. wow. eels look like they want to die.
HAHA brian smith just gave thumbs up to the camera
he goes up to fui to say well played, naaaw.
oh shit I think d morts is crying. that’s sad.
I know, I know, I sound functionally illiterate. But if you read that really REALLY loudly, it’s just like watching a game with me. End result 48-12.
And now I’ll leave you with my boys being adorable winners in the locker room.
Alright, kids, let’s solve Dive Gate once and for all. The Daily Telegraph have done their best to get us the story straight from the mouth of Nips. But to be honest, the story isn’t nearly as interesting as Nips Farah’s regular column in Mx magazine – “EYE OF THE TIGER”, seriously it’s our favourite complimentary weekly public transport-based column. Nonetheless, we choose to believe Nips’ side of the story.
Like our belief that Scott Prince wouldn’t live in an illegal house (he’s too snuggly to lie!) we also believe that Nips, being a Serious and Thoughtful Young Man, wouldn’t take a dive for a penalty. Of course, we were slightly torn when we heard Anthony Watmough was calling ‘dive’, cause God knows we’re Watmough freaks. But while we do enjoy his alleged stern stance on inappropriate outfits at family events – he just has strong opinions about fashion GUYZ - and we also appreciate him being super-supportive every time we’ve seen him, we’re gonna have to disagree on this one. Forgive us, Watmough?
In fact, the only thing we support about Dive Gate 2010 is the Daily Telegraph’s excellent photoshop work. Sure, it’s no intern John John in a sarong … what is? But it’s pretty damn awesome. Almost Kiki-worthy, no?
We are totally printing it out to hang on the wall of the Errol office. We think we might hang it right next to Nips’ appearance in the 2008 Gods of Football calendar, where he channelled Britney Spears.
Sigh, we miss you, pre-crazy Britney.
Now if you’ve jumped on the This Week in League bandwagon, you’ll know that one half of the show is Glen, who’s spent the last four months calling Lote Tuqiri ‘the revelation of the 2010 NRL season’.
(If you don’t know, TWiLeague is the world’s most fanciest sports podcast, and Glen is my most persistent heckler on twitter. Seriously. That shit is out of control).
And I have one thing to say to Glen – WHY DO YOU LIE? After Monday night’s game, we all know beyond the shadow of a doubt that the revelation of the 2010 season is the Chooks’ very own backpacker, Shaun Kenny-Dowall.
Thought I was about to say Todd Carney, right? Nah, he’s always been awesome. Awesome and … occasionally in trouble. But let’s not talk about the Unpleasantness. Todd and his fucking amazing running game are now the proud owners of a Roosters uniform with a pair of shorts so tiny they border on indecent.
Can I just say I am totally on board with the Roosters’ new hotpanted uniform. We all know I hate pants, they’re so binding! I wore a pair of acid-washed denim shorts out on Saturday night and with all the extra leg-freedom, my drunk dancing was at least 10 times more incredible than usual.
Mitchell Pearce apparently has the same opinion – thanks to the CountryRL twitter for giving us the heads up!
What was my point? THE BACKPACKER. Oh yes. I occasionally/sometimes/often criticise his ill-judged passes at vital moments. But I only do it because I can. It’s fine when Roosters fans bemoan the Roosters because we say it with love. Also, he does need to work on his pass choices, so whatevs. What’s important is that with the ball in his hands he’s a footy savant.
Even Kiki is in on the SKD love parade. She started thawing last year, and now all of a sudden she’s sending me messages that just say SKDDDDDD OMGGGGGG like a super-happy footy-watching lolcat.
Confession: we may even have given the backpacker a new nickname. In honour of his four tries, and how endearingly flushed he got scoring them, he shall now be known as pink man. PINK MAN. Doesn’t he sound like an awesome superhero with really good circulation? Pink Man might even have usurped the crown of pinkest man in league from our past winner, Anthony Quinn.
All of a sudden, seeing Mitch Aubusson and Shaun Kenny-Dowall in the same photo, I feel like a coconut ice.
Really it was just one more proof that Monday Night Football is one of God’s greatest gifts to his children. Last week, I got to stand on the hill at the Lilyfield Rectangle and watch Benji Marshall set up that last awesome Tigers try, this week I watched my boys grab third spot on the ladder. Add in Gorden Tallis bein’ Gordie, and Brandy Alexander coming close to a rage-induced stroke at the video ref and it’s pretty much heaven.
Haters to the left, and Roosters love in the comments pls.
Darlings, have you missed us? I know, I know, it’s been ages. I’M SORRY. It turns out that staying up all night watching the Ashes so we can blog for Cricket Australia, and spending your Saturdays whipping up columns for NSWRL really takes up a girl’s time.
But Sassy’s back now so you can stop biting your nails and weeping and just relax. Yes, yes, I promise I will never leave you again. Seriously, let go of my leg … except you Kevin Gordon. You can stay right there. As you were mister!
And now I’ve got my creepy quota in for the day, let’s talk footy. Everyone’s lost their damn minds talking about Karmichael Hunt switching to AFL. Which, to be completely honest, confuses me. Confuses me in the sense that …. I just don’t care. I feel like I’m missing something. I’m not shocked, cause didn’t he already switch to Union. Or did I make that up? Whatever. Let’s just say Karmichael is a straight-up code whore. And I’m not even angry! I kinda understand why someone would switch to AFL. They do have those adorable little sleeveless tops, plus from what I hear, spring rolls at the ground. Sounds pretty sweet to me. Mmmmm …. spring roll. All you have to give up is the joy of playing the greatest code in existence (for explanation, please see replay of Monday’s Tigers vs Sea Eagles game).
Pic. Glen McCurtayne
Best of all: HE’S A QUEENSLANDER. Buh-bye K.Hunt! Take the rest of the maroons with ya, why don’t ya? In fact the only downside of K.Hunt jumping ship is that, when Channel 9 broadcast Broncos games, we now no longer have the delightful possibility that Ray Warren will accidentally call him ‘Kunt’ again. Man, that was sweet.
But this week we realised he might’ve inspired some other league boys to start looking at their options. For one thing, Robbie Farah has a brand new career as a Hot Bitch. When did this happen? Seriously, when? We always adored Robbie for his Serious Thoughtful Comments at press conferences. Now we also adore him for his awesome new beard, and the fact that when he breathes in you can see his six pack through his jersey.
Apparently Robbie does not often indulge in a Robbie Farah kebab.
Terry Campese is in intense training for the T.Camps Michael Jackson tribute hour, hitting the road in the off-season 2009.
Not to mention that every time we turn on the tv we see another NRL player out there pimping out their skillset and trying new things. After his awesome performance on the weekend against the Knights I almost choked on my healthy healthy dinner when I saw Shaun Kenny-Dowall on Sports Tonight rocking out in the pool at swim school.
NO DARLING NO! YOU PLAYED SO WELL!
The way the Roosters season is going right now, if SKD leaves me to join the New Zealand Silver Waterfern swim team or whatever the fuck they’re called for the Commonwealth games in 2010, I will actually end up rocking in the corner in the foetal position. One win does not make a summer, or whatever that expression is. Although a few more losses from the Sharkies should keep us away from the wooden spoon, and, oh, how I cling to that.
Although I do think it would be pretty sweet if Beau Ryan passes his anatomy course and takes up a new career as an Osteopath. I find him oddly …. comforting. I would totally trust him with my spinal health. Although maybe not so much if he decides to become a plastic surgeon or something, because bitch is having troubles with some of the basic concepts of the torsal region.
So, the rib bones connected to the …. boob bone.
The boob bone’s connected to the … ?
… arm? Really? Are you sure?
Oh yeah, that looks right. Boobs, then arms. Lookin hot, anatomy diagram.
Oh no that’s not part of the course! I just thought she looked like someone who’d like swimming. SKD told me he finds it soothing, hey.
He seems to be enjoying the anatomy stuff a lot more than he enjoyed his film course, anyway.
Beau cares not for Peter Jackson fantasy epics. AND THAT ARAGORN IS A DOUCHEBAG.
As for Scotty Prince, I have absolutely no fucking idea what he is doing in an underwater plastic capsule, with BEN ROSS of all people, looking at crocodiles. But here ya go, just because Prince Scotty the Caramel is the reigning Oh Errol snuggliest man in league, and that deserves a run:
Meanwhile before my proud and noble Chooks beat them over the weekend, the Knights were already down a few superstars. I was nestled in the couch last week watching them have their asses handed to them by Manly when all of a sudden the camera flashed to Jarrod Mullen and Chris Houston on the sideline, looking … HOLD ON A SECOND. WHY SO HAPPY BOYS?
More importantly, why is Jarrod Mullen making the EXACT FACE I make when I fancy someone and am busy trying to look cute while I laugh at their jokes, instead of cackling and slapping my knee like I normally do when I find something hilarious. J.Mull, you are TOTALLY FLIRTING. Next thing you know he’ll be sitting sideways on his chair and leaning in close to talk to Houston in preparation for a pash.
(Just by the way, hi Ben Cross in the background! Sorry about that time at State of Origin when I thought you were Danny Nutley).
You know what this means, right? Well, for one thing, Kiki is more jealous than words can express. She loves a bit of Chris Houston’s action. She always tells me so. I think it’s the ye olde blacksmith vibe that gets her. But more importantly, Danny Wicks is gonna be PISSED. He is so not gonna stand for someone making the moves on his mans. Not when they’re so involved: those two share a team, a changeroom, a home, AND a vespa. They are committed.
Oh man, just quietly that video never EVER gets old. Who would have thought two forwards riding a scooter together would be so lolz-inducing?
I feel like either one of Kiki and Danny Wicks might jump out of the bushes and try and ambush J.Mull at any time. My advice to him is to carry a bacon sandwich with him wherever he goes. That would distract either of them. Just chuck it and run like a robber trying to get past a Rottweiler.
J.Mull and Houston have nothing on the greatest love story of the 09 league season though, which everyone knows is a little something called Uncle Wayne and Hot Bitch.
How could you forget? He can hardly wait to hold him, feel his arms around him. What was my point?
Oh yeah, check out who popped up in the box (heh, box) at the Dragons vs Storm extravaganza at Kogarah.
FLOSSY NIGHTINGALE IS THAT YOU? Look at him all up in the coaches box, makin eyes at Uncle Wayne, not even looking at the big flashing talkie box that shows you the game. It’s some First Wives’ Club shit happening up in there … leaving one man for a younger model. Hot Bitch Cooper will not be pleased.
Luckily, I bet he looks fierce in some white pants.
Last weekend’s footy was a veritable festival of lolz. The Lolz Festival! I would totally go to that. Who am I kidding, I would be straight out performing. No…HEADLINING. Youse are all invited backstage of course. Together we will make that rider our bitch.
Err anyway, because Sassy and I are literally married we have a system where we support each others teams. She has been to the last few Dragons games with me, so this last Friday it was my turn to accompany her to watch the Chooks. We proceeded to get quite drunk at our friend’s BBQ (hi Denee!) then tottled off to the footy.
To put it mildly, what a crap game. The atmosphere was non existent (sup cricket crowd!) and the first half was like watching a reggies match. The Chooks served up some of their trademark ridiculousness, including a player getting up to play the ball to no one, looking around to find a guy behind him….who was also looking around searching for someone. I squealed in horror and spilt my drink. THANKS CHOOKS. Those drinks deadset cost 15 dollars.
Meanwhile I spent most of the game trying to figure out how to get live scores from the Dragons game on my fone. I gave up and went back to the BBQ, hopped on Denee’s laptop and was delighted to see my babies came up with a win. Not a huge suprise, but god knows I love seeing the boys on the top of the table. I even did my Top Of The Table Dance which is basically star jumps until I get buggered and fall on the floor clutching my side in pain.
In natural light, Kiki’s bronzer looked decidedly greenish
Afterwards we walked stumbled down to the Leagues Club to meet some of the Bondi Rescue boys for a drink (I know, I know, we are such total celebs. Autograph line to left…). After way too many Smirnoff Blacks we decided it would be an awesome idea to accost poor Shaun Kenny-Dowall and ask him vitally important questions like ‘SKD! WHY DID U WEAR THONGS IN YOUR GODS OF FOOTBALL SHOOT? IS IT COZ YOU’RE SCARED OF GETTING TINEA?’
To his credit, he was very gracious and tolerant of our crazy. Also, we would like to apologise for terrorising some of the baby Chooks. Specifically to Sandor Earl for bringing up trimmed man pubes in our first ever conversation.
Back to the Dragons. Sadly Hot Bitch Cooper is STILL out, but obviously Channel 9 read Errol (well duh, who doesn’t) and decided to give me some sideline action to soothe my pain.
Joey - So Coops, how does it feel when Kiki violates you on the internet? Hot Bitch – Yeh mate…not bad. Wish she would stop doing that heavy breathing thing on my voicemail though.
Tiny Dancer Soward continues to be an amazing human. Going great guns for the Drags, and more importantly for our beloved fantasy teams. His pre goal kicking dance routine is one of the top 5 greatest things about league. Like, ever. Obviously the Parra crowd doesn’t think so, those bitches were all up his business with their boos. Poor ignorant people. Everyone knows you do NOT interrupt Sowie Kapowie.
UM EXCUSE ME FUCKERS…BIT OF SHOOSH FOR MAH DANCE OKAY?
Sassy and I also watched the Cowboys v Titans. We don’t really care about either team, we just didn’t want to pass up the opportunity to watch not one but TWO teams in white shorts. Specially when said teams include Willy Zilly, John John and Luke O’Donnell. Granted, it did take us approximately 20 mins to figure out why the Cowboys looked to be playing in the Newtown Jets strip (hehe…strip), but it was totally worth it.
Onto Monday night footy. I tipped the Bunnies because well… it was Easter. Flawless logic right? WRONG. DAMN YOU RABBITOHS. Thankfully though, this game delivered two things I love: biff and lolz.
The biff was….okay, I wasn’t watching that closely. I’m still not quite sure what started it. But it sure escalated into something kind of amazing pretty quickly. Nothing says celebrating the resurrection of Christ like fisticuffs on the footy field right? We were delighted to see the muchly adorable Benny Lowe right in the middle of it. The man has curls, a sweet tan, great pins and most importantly…dimples. Clearly a new Errol fave.
This brawl’s for you, Jesus!
And then there were the lolz. These lolz stemmed from severe embarassment. Which everyone knows is the best kind of lolz. As the boys ran on for half time, a rain soaked Andy Raymond informed us that Ben Hannant wouldn’t be returning for awhile because he had a, and I quote, “case of the runs”. Oh….my god. As if tap arse isn’t embarassing enough on it’s own, now the poor bloke has to have it reported as news on national television.
Because my brother and I are basically 12 yr olds, we dissolved into a fit of giggles and started imagining if Hannant shat his pants whilst on the field. Would he have to go to the….Shit Bin? Would the ref stop the game? YOU…HANNANT..SHIT BIN! GET YOURSELF CLEANED UP! Would the trainers whack him in an adult diaper, give him a change of shorts and send him back on out there? Or maybe even…stitch his ass up?
And on that charming note, I’ll see you next week.
Screencaps from the awesome BS. Shooshing the crowd joke unashamedly stolen from Lozzy.
So we’re officially back in footy season, hurrah! And obviously we don’t just bring you our incredibly informative game recaps, we also like to hook you up with what the teams get up to at training and recovery.
If nothing else, it should help you with your tips.
You certainly shouldn’t listen to me and my ‘intuition’, because after round 4 I am now sitting on an average of just over four correct tips a week. Four! Out of Eight!
Do you know what that means? It means that my brain … my human brain, that biological miracle, that unbelievably complex labyrinth of nerve and synapse; when it comes to tipping, using my brain is pretty much as effective as using a coin. My brain is no smarter than a small round disc made of brass. True story.
Anyway. Last week it was all about the water recovery session. And I’ve realised you can pretty much track the boys progress by their water sessions. Check out the Raiders last week rocking out in the Canberra aquatic center:
Is T Camps … singing? Why I do believe he is. Just bustin out a few showtunes as he jogs around the lap pool. Washing away the memory of getting beaten by the Eels and that bitch of a ref who disallowed their AWESOME split-scrum try.
And just look at the boys rocking out in the background. For some reason we especially love the thought of Trevor Thurling joining in. Or as some of our fans like to call him, Sexmachine Trevor Thurling.
There really IS nothin like a dame!
End result: a reinvigorated attack and glorious victory over the Cowboys down in Canberra.
Compare and contrast Boromir from Lord of the Rings Nathan Hindmarsh over at the Eels’ recovery:
No one ever wants to re-enact Grease with me.
… and if they do I never get to be Kenicki.
and the happy-clappy Roosters having superfuntimes rolling around on the grass at Moore Park:
How happy is Shaun Kenny-Dowall? He just REALLY LOVES ROLLING. I tried so so hard to stay pissed off at the Roosters after their loss to the Tigers, then I saw this and … I can’t stay mad at you babies. Especially you Shaun Kenny-Dowall. I adore him. I have no idea why, I JUST DO.
We even have a special Errol nickname for him that I’m only allowed to yell from the sideline and not allowed to say on Errol. The girls have forbidden me, because … well because it sounds kind of offensive. But I swear I SAY IT WITH LOVE.
And the point is this: when the miserable pool-going Parra came up against the We!Love!Rolling! Roosters at the SFS, the Roosters took those bitches down. A happy team is a winning team. It’s just Fact. You can’t argue with science!
So I’m going to save you, oh, about 2 seconds indecision, and tell you not to waste your money on the Sharks this weekend. Bitches are miserable. Just look at them:
Toops looks like he really regrets not being able to stick with the Roosters and roll his cares away. He is so going home to eat an entire cheesecake and pass out in a food coma in his boxers. Ben Pomeroy also probably has several bruises.
The Pom has difficulty walking with flippers. Even though the flippers aren’t on his feet.
And I’m gonna put my money on the Dragons too. For one thing because Jamie ‘Tiny Dancer’ Soward and Baby Chase Stanley look like happy little kids out there on their surfboards. But also because Lozzy might cut me if I don’t.
You see Jamie Soward has worked his mojo on Lozzy. He won her over with his cheeky grin and the little dance he does before he kicks for goal. You know the one: the chicken dance in a circle, followed by the march, the pause, and the little prance as he kicks. The one Phil Gould describes as ‘like my cat about to do a shit’. Why do you think we call him Tiny Dancer?
Well it seems Tiny Dancer is rapidly catching up to T Camps as her favourite footy player, and I always have to support the girls’ teams. I’m a good friend like that.