Adelaide Uni Blacks C1 Preliminary Final: Chardonnays Through to the Decider


Adelaide University  13.9  (87)
Ross & Trevor  5.11  (41)
Goals: B. Meier 4, A. Vallelonga 2, A. Howard 2, T. Turner 1, J. Richards 1, P. Lemessurier 1, D. Jean 1, A. Butler 1
Best: L. Rogers, P. Lemessurier, C. Rohde, J. Beilby

It’s 10:15 on a Saturday morning, under two hours ’til game time, and I’m feeling a distinct sense of unease.

The reasons for this are manifest – for one thing, we’re three weeks into finals and I’m running out of Smiths t-shirts. Even an unreconstructed Eighties private schoolboy like me only has so many. I’d consider Joy Division a viable alternative, but that might jinx us.

Perhaps more importantly, and more worryingly, the last time I saw the coach he was sitting outside the Exeter on Rundle Street, Friday evening, waiting to meet a prominent (and notoriously hard-drinking) Adelaide novelist. (Say what what you like about the Chardonnays, but whilst we are certainly high-functioning alcoholics, we are also longstanding patrons of the yarts).

My last words to the great man were ‘don’t worry, we’ll pick up the pieces tomorrow.’ Let’s face it, that simply does not bode well.

But my Saturday morning concerns don’t end there. Semi-finalist almost-but-not-quite BOG Schiller’s List is out. He tweaked a shin chasing his dog down the hallway. The reason he was chasing the pooch? It had stolen his footer socks while he was packing his bag nice and early for the game.

I mean f**k me. That could be a NT News front page, except for the fact it involves a dog instead of a crock. Reports that the offending canine has been shipped off to the pound to meet the Youth in Asia were unable to be confirmed at the time of going to press.

But maybe the most compelling reason for my general distrust of the world is bloody Rulebook, who won’t stop hassling me to comment on my own bloody article on the Footy Almanac. Who comments on their own article? My narcissism is well-pronounced, sure, but I have my limits. Beside, my fellow English Hons graduate, Dr Uggs, has already contributed the finest comment in the history of the internet to that article, so it’s all sort of diminishing returns from there.

Anyway, none of that mattered because we were really good and we won and we’re into the big dance so f**k you to everyone else.

PostScript (or, Things I Wish I’d Known Before I Went To The Game)

1. Howie sharted whilst bumping a bloke. He described it as ‘tensing up for a second, followed by a huge sense of relief.’ So that’s nice.
2. Toys R once fondled (his word) the sister of an opposition player, and yet got through the game without being killed.
3. Some bloke from the Sinners, who await us in the big one, took a photo of our whiteboard when it was clear we were going to win. Good luck reading my handwriting, buddy. Here’s a tip – BJ is very likely to line up at centre half-forward, and then stay there.
4. The Chards are getting old – the primary intoxicant of choice post-game appeared to be Voltaren.
5. I ended up volunteering to write the report again, which means (f**k it) I have about fifteen minutes of peace left before Rulebook starts hassling me to comment on this one.


  1. Another cracking entry into the Chards finals round up. Time to make history and finish the job now.

  2. I refuse to believe that Rulebook would hassle anyone.

    Good luck to the Students v the Saints on the weekend.

  3. Malcolm Ashwood says

    Brilliant Dale and apologies for ringing you at midnight to let you no the write up had gone on the site ( joking folks ) . Go the Chards

  4. In the interests of full disclosure, I should say Rulebook waited twenty minutes before getting on my case this time.

    I presume this comment has reset the clock.

  5. You must have the wrong guy Rulebook never hassles blokes to comment. Ask Darren Berry.

  6. Good enjoyable read Rulebook geez big day of footy for you ( great photos 2 ) love your passion Go the Legs Go the Blacks

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