AFL Round 6 – Carlton v West Coast Boneheads: Emotional Thunderstorms

When the thunder storms start increasing over the southeast
And south central portions of my apartment, I get upset
And a line of thunderstorms was developing in the early morning
I was ahead of a slow moving cold front, cold blooded

With, with tornado watches issued shortly before noon Sunday
For the areas including, the western region of my mental health
And the northern portions of my ability to deal rationally with my
Disconcerted precarious emotional situation
It’s cold out there, colder than a ticket taker’s smile at the Ivar theater
On a Saturday night

Flash flood watches covered the southern portion of my disposition
There was no severe weather well into the afternoon
Except for kind of a lone gust of wind in the bedroom

In a high pressure zone
Covering the eastern portion of a small suburban community
With a 1034 millibar high pressure zone
And a weak pressure ridge extending from my eyes down to my cheek
‘Cause since you left me baby, put the vice grips on my mental health
Well the extended outlook for an indefinite period of time
Until you come back to me baby
It is high tonight, low tomorrow, and precipitation is expected”

Tom Waits – “Emotional Weather Report”

Gorgeous late autumn sunshine over Lake Taupo.  Sitting on the deck of a mate’s bach (shack for you itinerants) with a Moa pale ale, contemplating how many more years of indentured servitude before this is a permanent lifestyle.

When there was a decent footy match on Easter Monday I couldn’t get the Ithingameaflapp to work, but back at Papamoa Beach last night the bloody thing worked like a dream.

Ten minutes into the last quarter the Avenging Eagle was cock a hoop, as the Eagles has dominated possession for the last 40 minutes and were 3 goals ahead in a low scoring game.  I started to pace.  I’ve seen this movie before.

Carlton were a joke.  The Eagles were inept.  We bombed long to taller forwards than Kareem Abdul Jabbar, Manute Bol and Yao Ming.  Our crumbers had their same elegant nimbleness, as we scrambled, rushed and dismissed countless opportunities.

The Blues were on the slab.  Pale.  Pulseless.  But you can’t kill zombies.  Our teenagers frolicked carelessly, while I yelled “watch out he can still come back and get you.”

I tempted fate by revelling in how pathetic and incompetent Bryce, Daisy and Robby were.  But Carlton said we’ll see you and raise you a Sharrod, Josh and Nic.

4 goals up with 10 minutes to go.  Garlett goals on the run.  We give away a brainless 50 for Tuohy to add another.

I know what’s coming.  I can’t sit and watch the inevitable zombie rampage at the end of all slasher flicks.  I am pacing my mate’s kitchen drinking anaesthetising stubbies while the Avenging Eagle is transfixed by the pale light of the tiny screen.

“Its an express train coming – not the healing light,” but like all teen screen chicks she is deaf to imploring logic.  Its all a blur.  The horror.  The horror.

As we sink into the quicksand of the Carlton avalanche, a hand reaches out of the slime.  Selwood’s rushed snap from 20 metres out to tie the scores hits the top of the post.  I know that the hand we have grabbed belongs to the zombie killer, not a kindly rescuer.  All these movies end like this.

We don’t deserve to win.  But neither do that weak, spineless mob with the Porridge guard look-a-like coach.

Mr. Mackay: I think some of you wrongly assumed that I had left you for good. But, as you see, nothing could be further from the truth. Only… I am somewhat disturbed to hear what has been happening in my absence. So now… We’re going to have a new regime here, based not on lenience and laxity but on discipline, hard work and blind, unquestioning obedience. Feet will not touch the floor. Lives will be made a misery. [At the door] I am back, and I am in charge here.

Fletch and Godber: [singing] For ‘e’s a jolly good fellow, for ‘e’s a jolly good fellow, for ‘e’s a jolly good fellow, and so say all of us.

Kennedy dribbles a left foot poster.  Shuey tries the miracle shot from the boundary when a smart footballer (not) would have centred it to the top of the square.

It’s over.  How could you give any side 4 premiership points for that shambles of a game?  I remember laughing uproariously at the last half of the Blues and Tigers.  But THIS is not funny.

The Avenging Eagle tries all the traditional helpful placating lines.  “Its only a game.”  “At least they tried hard.”  “They are only young boys.”

“I DON’T CARE IF THEY LOSE, I JUST WANT THEM TO FIND A DIFFERENT ##**!!!  WAY TO LOSE.”

For the past 2 years we have had the poorest disposal skills, and the most boneheaded antiquated forward structure of any of the serious teams in the AFL.  On the balance of play and work rate we should have won by 6 goals +.  I can take being beaten by better sides like Geelong and Port, but I HATE losing to a spineless rabble like Carlton, just because of our own incompetence.

NOTE TO SIMPSON: You did not inherit a great legacy from St John of the Cross.  You inherited the Lost Tribe of Israel, who need a few burning bushes and twelve commandments of skills and game structures from a Moses to lead them out of the Wilderness.   Stop with the beatitudes and platitudes, and give it to us, and them, straight.

Your fans are not fools and idiots, even though you insist on treating us that way.  Send  Wellingham back to Eddie, or at least to the WAFL where Les has to suffer him and not me.  Let NicNait play like a carefree kid in the park again, and stop trying to make a league footballer out of him.  Its not in his nature.  And play 2 little blokes (Cripps and Masten) at Kennedy’s feet in the 50 – PERMANENTLY – and try to kick a winning score.  It’s work for 100 years and it worked for Blighty.

If I want to see waves of defensive water buffaloes slowly work the ball up the field, I’ll stay here and join the Waikato Chiefs.

Malarkey Votes:

3.  Moa Pale Ale.

2.  Green Lipped Mussels in white wine and garlic butter.

1.  Lake Taupo views.

Comments

  1. Malcolm Ashwood says:

    Very entertaining , PB loved the porridge analogy and totally agree re , Nic Nat let him free don’t over structure him ! Stil trying to work out what , Simpson is trying to implement and change from , Worsfolds legacy . Glasses stupidity from last week did not help your cause ( very lucky to only get , 1 ) Thanks Peter sounds like the land of sheep agrees with you

  2. Much interest in footy over the ditch PB?

    Response to Wellington and the glorious Lions v Saints fixture?

    And what of ANZAC Day? Much to like about Kiwi life and culture: interested in the maturity of the media treatment of ANZAC Day? And what of the general view?

    Quality of the red wines?

  3. Neil Anderson says:

    Why oh why can’t they be incompetent when they they play the Dogs!
    The commentators rattled off the names of that giant forward line before they started and I smugly thought I’ll get one of my tips right at least.
    Surely the Carlton backs aren’t that good! Bloody Carlton! Bloody football!

  4. Tony Robb. says:

    Welcome to my world PB. At least you didn’t have to sit through the commentary. Eddie was nauseating
    Enjoy the land of the wrong white crowd. It’s like stepping back in time. Just as I will next week when traveling to Qld circa 1974
    Cheers
    TR

  5. The Anzac Day fixture in Wellington is a joke. If there were 13,000 people there, NicNait will win the Brownlow (remember that one, Mr Wrap?) Right up there with your 3rd and 4th ladder calls, Wrap.
    There were 3,000 in the stands so the other 10k must have been in the corporate boxes hoovering up the pinot and salmon. Or in the AFL Corporate Director of Marketing, Misinformation and Malfeasance’s imagination (more likely).
    Perfect day across the ditch, but the evening dew and mist turns the grass to a swamp after dusk in late autumn. Play it in the day if you want a spectacle.
    Or just face it, Kiwis are culturally attuned to their own code, so enough with the ‘greatest game on earth’ spin. Its our game – not theirs.
    AFL is rugby lite these days anyway, so we are only trying to convince presbyterians of the value of methodism. So what’s the deal.
    Food, wine and laid back NZ lifestyle in wonderful. Like Australia before we became the 52nd State. They have talking heads and variety shows on TV, not My Rattlesnake Rules.
    Offsiders would be a ratings success over here, if we could get Gerard to shut up about Black Caviar.
    I may be gone a little time. The Avenging Eagle’s passport is stamped – “not to be returned until next Derby win over Dockers.” Hmmm.

  6. Great to read that you’re enjoying NZ. Forget the footy. Tom Waits is just fantastic. Among my favourite lyrics of his are on Come On Up To The House from his excellent Mule Variations. I reckon these connect to you and your Eagles (West Coast, not Hotel California)

    All your cryin don’t do no good
    Come on up to the house
    Come down off the cross
    We can use the wood

  7. John Butler says:

    Good to see you taking the loss in your stride PB. :)

  8. Great, piece PB – although I will pick you up on one point – Robbie was great.

    Ba-ba-da-ba-fking-da great.

    In fact just about everything about the last ten minutes was great.

    Just great.

  9. Agreed Peter…that estimate of 13,000 looked way way over the odds.

  10. To kick 1 goal and 8 behinds in the last quarter
    as your shambolic opposition kicks 5 goals 1 behind
    is ingloriously bad
    Especially bad losing to Mr Coronary’s spasmodic team
    Especially by 3 points

  11. E.regnans says:

    Great read, PB.
    I’d be happy to take in any (or several) of those Malarkey vote-winners.

  12. Luke Reynolds says:

    Get on the Chiefs. They know how to win.

  13. Barb Smith says:

    Great to read that Carlton is hated rather than just pitied. Gives me hope:)

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