Anzac Day one grey cloud covers the sky space closing at the last second Swan’s handpass fine rain a snap for goal brushes the post cloudburst the ball belted one end to the other autumn mist a handpass without looking cloud trapped sun Collingwood leading the smother count [Read more]
the sunlight’s slant
piercing light the defender touches a nerve partly closed roof the ball hovers between flanks filling the stands with groans stubbed toe ump and player in heated discussion – the sunlight’s slant edge of winter – crossing the 50 metre line he falls over falling leaves them all behind Harry clouds adrift so many goals [Read more]
almost not there
autumn night the missing parts of our game watching the footy in a different time-zone I whisper an expletive turning leaves Swan fast becoming slow wisps of cloud Collingwood almost not there lingering snow the team’s lifeblood lies motionless flaming red the young maple – new coach feels the heat autumn haze I vaguely remember [Read more]
still the crowd
Good Friday – we discuss who ought to be culled Easter Saturday – we enter the game without our leader a shot at goal brings howls from the crowd – full moon no wind missed kicks still the crowd autumn night nothing much going on except Pendlebury dusk – Daisy splits the night into [Read more]
down another falling
new season starts at the 10 minute mark I catch my breath first quarter the umpire plucks the ball from the clinging pack dusk deepens one more missed goal the debutant’s first shot at goal straight through the middle MCG in March Buddy’s skied hook post-high Cloke drags down another falling leaves alone inside fifty [Read more]
sunlight on leather
by Rob Scott first morning a familiar scent on the breeze It should perhaps be the game at its purest. Everyone and everything is primed. Sun-tanned, tattooed and absurdly muscled players; feverish fans emerging on frenzied tenterhooks from a long summer of enforced detachment and other family commitments; pristinely manicured playing surfaces; even [Read more]
Choose your poision – the Top 8 Swedish style
by Rob Scott The Swedish ice hockey (Elitserien) regular season came to a thrilling conclusion during the week as the top teams battled for places in the playoffs (slutspel) and the bottom teams tried to avoid relegation. Positions were so tight that almost every goal scored during the final round resulted in a change [Read more]
the damp Sherrin
grand final dawn a bit of tightness in my hammys low cloud Cloke’s long drop punt splits the ‘G in half even on this day Stevie J reminds us the ‘G is a playing field half-time at the pub another round of texting lights on [Read more]
preliminary final – the clock stops
late september the veteran scores the winning goal the MCG in spring — alive with hawks, magpies and seagulls the moon punches a hole in the sky — Tarrant spoils bad live stream our hopes flickering spring haze a field of heavy-limbed footballers [Read more]
deeper into spring
spring sunset the difference a goal makes freshly cut fields Swan feeds on the MCG cloud then sun then cloud yet to hit our stride looking for the angle Krakouer turns his back to the goals a gap in the clouds Wellingham catches the [Read more]
Haiku Bob – round 24: some buds open
spring evening squealing cats spoil my dreams packed ‘G long after the goal I hear it fast moving clouds a chain of handpasses ends with a goal the curved path of the moon — Fasolo from the pocket last drinks our last goal turns out to be our last filling the half-empty stadium final siren [Read more]
the splintered pack
12 goals clear Krakouer kicks the last on impulse spring petals — Cloke plucks one close to home Sandilands jumps — the splintered pack releases the goal sneak the many paths life takes us peppering the goals Swan sets off everyone left behind winter’s [Read more]
round 22 – haiku bob – nearing spring
warmer nights — the kick-out reaches the centre square our latest back six concedes the first goal in under a minute the old world connects to the new — Fasolo curls one back late winter — gaps in our desire filled by Ball [Read more]
Haiku Bob Round 21: length of the wing
full moon Leon in every passage a forward thrust as far as Tarrant’s fist and no further six points such cheap reward for Wellingham’s goal buds begin to flower — Fasolo plucks one from the pack tucked under [Read more]
Haiku Bob Round 20: somewhere the moon
winter rain — the ball tossed between bodies of water somewhere the moon — Port players have trouble finding the ball soggy night — Blair uses his lack of height night rain — Collingwood players add to the glitter non-stop rain — a dyke erected across [Read more]
somewhere the moon
winter rain — the ball tossed between bodies of water somewhere the moon — Port players have trouble finding the ball soggy night — Blair uses his lack of height night rain — Collingwood players add to the glitter non-stop rain — a dyke erected across the half-back line [Read more]
round 19: haiku bob – slipstreaming
This week’s match report comes from Budapest in Hungary where I attended the Formula 1 Grand Prix. Fascinating city. Wonderful race. And another Magpie victory. practice session — every one of Cloke’s kicks is a goal safety car — Prismall’s knee collapses at the first turn slipstreaming – Pendlebury moves [Read more]
backing into the swell
taking my lead from fellow floreat pican andrea mcnamara this week. i too was ‘by the sea’ for this game. actually, it was a lake – and we were in the middle of it. on an island about 3 hours north of stockholm called örjung. beautiful, peaceful place with classic swedish scenery – water, forest, [Read more]
among the rotting leaves
cross wind — a betting slip among the rotting leaves no sunlight on that side of the ground — just Daisy but for their whistles the umpires would disappear * a chill in the winter sun — Swan scuffs his first kick the first petal separates.. Daisy’s one hander [Read more]
one goal blurs
murky light — the umpire sees a free no-one can old woman knitting — our forward work slowly comes together rain starts — Daisy comes from the clouds winter afternoon — the torpedo punt drops short misty rain — one goal blurs into another hundred points up — the [Read more]
Recent Comments