The Wrap Round XIX – where life imitates football

And what a round it’s been in Footy Eddie.  On Friday night The Hawks & The Cats turned on yet another one for the ages.  In years to come, when space travellers from a Galaxy Far Far Away discover our burnt and smoldering Planet and sift through the time capsules we’ve left behind portraying the Human Experiment and explaining the Human Folly, they’ll be excused for thinking there were only two teams that played the football game called Australian Rules, And that only one of them Played The Game As It Should Be Played.

On Saturday, they had to call on the RSPCA to rescue The Doggies from yet another belting, this time with the Shinbone of an ox.  Up in The Land of The Giants, it was The Greater Western Sydney who stood tall for Sheed’s 1,000th game as a player & mentor when they sent Port Adelaide’s season into a total tailspin and forced their navigator to bail out over the Adelaide Hills.  Freo tore apart a Depleted Eagles Outfit to keep their September Aspirations alive.  The Saints & The Maggies slugged out another classic on the Big Stage, with The Monochromes hanging tough to take the Four Points.  While this was being played out The Striped Marvels moved off the Endangered Species List to beat a spirited but undermanned Brissy by eight goals.

Come Sunday and Hearts finally Beat True as The Redlegs prevailed over The Metermaids by seven goals.  The Bloods reduced Carlton’s chances of playing Finals in 2012 to a mathematical roll of the dice.  And Adelaide had to dig deep to overhaul and hold off The Gallant Dons.

Maggot Watch.  The Friday night classic took some management.  Well it did once The Poohbars woke up to the fact they were playing a team that Stands Up And Fights.  It was played at a breakneck pace and not without some old fashion body awareness.  (In some circles – the Mothers of Melbourne for one – it would pass for low-level violence – Ed)  True, they missed a few but on the whole they swallowed the whistle and the match flowed.  They got most of the blatant ones, although in the shopping malls of the Middle & Outer East, and the trendy coffee houses along Glenferrie Road you’d be earbashed relentlessly about the free that Cyril’s tackle deserved, 25m out dead in front with two minutes left in the clock.  We noticed a bit of holding going on throughout the match, but you have to allow for camera angles denied the on-field adjudicators.  (Have you been got-at Wrap?  Blind Freddie would have picked up a few of them – Ed)  You have to fast forward to Saturday night for the Beitzel vote winners from this round.  Let’s just say for once Digger can’t complain that the umpires crucified Collingwood.

The word from our Ammo stringer is that The Battle For Fourth on the Premier League Ladder is going to go down to the wire.  With Old Scotch knocking off 3rd placed De La Salle, they remain in touch on the same points.  That The Panthers won so convincingly – by 12 snaggers – has given them a percentage break on The Finger Biscuits of 7.19.  With the tightest defence in The Comp, they’re now kicking big bags, and should be able to hold this advantage.  With four matches to rub, they’re four games off a Double Chance finish.  In yet another Il momento della verità for the Carey Fairies, they have 2nd placed Collegians at the Harry Trott Oval next Saturday

And we have a winner in The Coach Most Likely – #66 on a teal ticket.  Matty Primus on being told there’s little chance that his contract will be renewed next season, has cleaned out his desk and walked away from the club at which he’s been a part of for his whole senior career, including the 2004 Flag.  Of course, the real question to ask, and one that should add to the Ayatollah’s apoplexy on his return from Europe is: can Port Adelaide survive in the AFL?  Not sure it’s one they’ve bothered to ask at Alberton though, where there’s every indication that the lunatics are running the asylum.

Are we alone in feeling that watching the Olympics is a lot more enjoyable without the prima dons e donnas of the swimming team?  There’s been a lot to celebrate, although sitting behind New Zild on the gold tally, nor coming in behind the Pohms in just about everything is not amongst them.

Life imitating Sport.  If we ever need a reminder of just what an important part of our lives Football plays, this missive with the Sleepy Hollow postmark arrived in this morning’s mail.  In a world where many things are seldom ‘real’ anymore, be it the way life is trivialised via all manner of mediums, experiences such as Friday night remind me that, indeed, ‘real’ victories still exist and that these are attributed to good old fashioned hard work, smart thinking and truck loads of heart and soul.  No second prizes as to what the writer is referring.  The glue that holds us to a common bond, eh?

Olympic Chief John Coates has fired the first shot in the Blame Game that is sure to follow the perceived underachieving of our Olympic athletes.  He’s already told the swimming team TTAGHLAT.  Calling them a proud sport – no John, this time around they’ve been a vain sport – he flagged the need for review.  Wisely, considering the Federal Government’s present mood & position, he suggested they was enough money in the kitty, and that they just had to learn how to spend it to better advantage.  His main thrust to government was to request that sport be made compulsory in schools.  You have to wonder where he was when health professionals nation wide were calling for a response to the growing hearth problems associated with our over processed diets and sedentary life style.  He would have been a useful advocate then.  It’s amazing how motivating an energy force the spotlight can be, eh?

But enough of my persiflage, let’s see setting the scene in Round XVIII.

The Family Club v The Curse of The Were Cats.  It was into the second quarter before Hawthorn realized it had a fight on its hands.  By then they were 51 points down and fighting for their lives in a pile of Golden&Brown feathers knee deep.  With no one splitting the packs nor taking those floating marks in the Maybloom’s attacking zone, The Geelong defence continually drove the ball into attack where, The jPod, Chappy & The Tomahawk led the attack to the tune of nine goals – one of which was actually the winning goal.  (You don’t happen to know which one it was do you Wrap? – Ed)  But The Mustard Pots had hauled in leads of this nature against this mob before, and when Cyril split a pack to take a screamer, and Guerra explained the finer points of Unsociable Football to Chappy, you knew the chase was on.  In an absolute classic – the one you wished you’d taken your cousin from Canada to see instead of opting for the climate controlled comfort of the North Melbourne v Footscray match – the Hawkers hauled in The Handbags and, with minutes to go, got their noses in front for the first time all night.  Leading by eight points with something like four minutes to go, they did a Richmond and coughed up the lead.  With just over a minute to the siren, Puopolo did what forwards instinctively do – he tried to kick the ball out of midair across the score line, which he missed.  In his quest for glory, he drove it across the face to the waiting Geelong defence.  It’s engraved in folklore now, how they whisked the ball via the wing to the leading Tomahawk.  The Big Fella still had to go back and do the job; there was no angle to speak of but he was outside the paint.  With just a couple of spins of the ball, he walked purposefully in as the siren sounded.  He drove it post high, and let it be said, right over the top of the umpire’s hat.  This was without doubt a Famous Victory.  But in our book the Geelong Revival hinges on one player – and that’s the MVP at The Cattery.  (Always has been – Ed)  And we all know who that is.  Up there with Ronald Dale & Lethal, this man was Bomber’s go-to man whenever they were in trouble.  He’s the player that can turn a match like no other going around today.  Never mind your Gary Abletts & Tom Scullys, this pocket battleship already has one Norm Smith to his credit and may have to win another one if Geelong are to go Back-to-Back.  (They have to get there yet – Ed)  And if you need another clue, playing out of the forward pocket he kicked four to go with The Big Tommy’s lazy six.  Speaking of Big Tommy, if Cloke’s worth $750,000 this bloke’s worth two mill if he’s worth a penny.  For the losers, and they don’t take losing lightly out at Waverly, the night was a bitter pill to swallow.  After being comprehensively outplayed by The Were Cats in the Opening Stanza, they fought their way back into the game and looked to have broken the Curse.  If it’s any consolation, they kicked 6-6 to 4-1 in the last.  But as your Mum would tell you, every cloud has a silver lining.  This is the last of the nine lives this Great Geelong Side has been gifted against The Hawks.  And Buddy is to come back at some stage.  It wasn’t a bad wake-up call either.  No more renovating the Coaches Box either, you may have noticed.  They drag The Troubled Port down to Hork Park next Sunday for the early one.  The Moggies are back with us on Friday night, but they have to catch the Indian Pacific to find their opponent – The Low Flying Eagles.

The Tricolours v The Shinboners.   The Roos consolidated their position in The Eight at Footscray’s expense in a lack lustre game, the highlight of which was Petrie’s five goals.  The Scraggers took it up to The Shinboners in the first half and notched up twice as many inside fifties as their opponents, but a trip to Cash Converters with the Nana’s hand me down cutlery would have been more rewarding than the scoreboard pressure this allowed them to apply.  The Doggies just haven’t got The Roar or The Bite Bulldogs are supposed to have. McCartney apologists are already on the front foot, and The Whole Football World wishes him and his Houndogs all the very best when they attempt to step all over The Tigers’ Yellow&Black suede paws next Sunday in the Twilight Zone at THOF.  The Shinboners have an even more daunting task – The Bombers under cover to close off proceedings.

The Orangemen v The Power From Port.  At the last huddle, Chokko told the Lads that they owed Sheeds – for all he’d done for the club over the journey, all of 18 rounds, and on a seven-figure stipend.  He could have just as easily said they owed it to him – Chokko – to humiliate the Club that had given him his marching orders when he felt his one Flag at Alberton had given him a job for life.  To whomever they owed the debt, The Young Giants dug deep and repaid it in spades.  They led at every change but Port had closed the gap at the last huddle and the gathered 6,811 weren’t expecting too much from the young minds & bodies of The Orangemen.  Cometh the moment, cometh the man.  That they won pulling away will do wonders for their Self Belief when they go up to Wally World to ride the Metricon next Saturday night in the fading light.  For The Power From Port, they visit The Apple Isle as guests of The Mayblooms OTR on the early Sunday match.

Fremantle v The Pinioned Aquilas.  Was this the humiliation The Eagles had to have?  You’d think not.  Not only is their Double Chance & Home Final status in jeopardy, but they also have become the butt of the Perth pub trivia night question – who kicked six goals in the XXXV1th Derby.  No Nurelle it wasn’t Essendon.  That was the 1990 Grand Final.  Fair Dinkum, sometimes I wonder if you even take those iPod plugs out of your ears to sleep.  True, The Weagles were terribly undermanned, and the Medical room has been flat out all season, but this is starting to get serious.  We’ll find out next Friday night when they take on The Reigning Premiers over there.  The Barry Crockers, sitting level on points but only 0.8% behind The Human Hamstrings, alight from the Indian Pacific in the City of Light to take on The Pride of South Australia next Saturday arvo.

Carringbush v The Saints.  You don’t have to be dead to be stiff, eh?  This was another one for the ages – St Kilda v Collingwood, with the draw a likely outcome in the dying stages.  Look, never mind the ifs & buts about that last maggoty call against Stinky Milne, if Collingwood hadn’t lairized so much they might have kicked straighter and been so far in front that the nail biting finish was never going to be an option.  And The Black&White Army should have reason for concern; the inaccuracy of the Malthouse legacy is still with the team.  It nearly cost them this game, and it has to be said, it could cost them a grand final one day.  But first they have to get into this year’s GF.  They play their 1st Qualifying Final next Saturday night at their happy hunting ground: ANZ Stadium.  (Isn’t the happy hunting ground a euphemism for the grave Wrap – Ed)  The Saints, sitting two out and two back need to shake a leg if they’re going to give Scotty Watters his first taste of September as Senior Coach.  The Seagulls play The Fuchsias on the Big Stage early on Saturday.

The Lions v The Tigers.  The Tiges kicked The Sweep & shook off their hoodoo on Saturday night.  With their midfield on fire they led at ever change to run away in the last term to win by eight goals.  Everyone got into the act and they had 13 goal scorers.  With the rest of the Coleman field having days out, Jumping Jack could only manage 2-3 from this bonanza.  They’re back home next Sunday for the twilight match on The G against The Western Labradoodles.  For the Lions, it’s a Saturday night under cover against The Rattzbaggers.

The Fuchsias v The Metermaids.  The picture in today’s Sage tells a thousand words, eh?  The caption reads: Gold Coast’s Harley Bennell tries to break clear of Demon Nathan Jones.  In the picture, there’s this kid see, looking all of 16, in what looks for all the world like a basketball singlet in possession of the pigskin with the shaven-headed Jones, a muscle-bulging, tattoo-emblazoned arm about to haul this scrawny teenager to the ground.  Hieronymus Bosch could have used the cameo as a model for his Garden of Earthly Delights panel.  The final result matched the image.  The Sunbeams were monstered.  (And it didn’t cost Melbourne a draft pick either – Ed)  The Redlegs are back on The Hallowed Turf next Saturday arvo, but, for some quirky twist of the fixture, as guests of St Seaford.  The Sunbeams regroup to welcome The Big Big Sound From The West Of The Town.  (They didn’t say which town they’re west of did they Wrap? – Ed)

Carlton v South Melbourne.  A blue collar performance against The Blues saw The Swans extend their winning streak to nine and remain at The Top of The Table.  Once it was clear that Mummy wouldn’t allow The Kreuzer to run amuck and that the depleted Rattzbagger midfield was outnumbered and outclassed, it was put down the glasses.  The Lakers are back to Emerald City to roll out the welcome mat for Carringbush next Saturday night at the Other Olympic Stadium.  The Silvertails are back under cover hosting The Boys From Old Fitzroy.

The Free Settlers v The Human Hamstrings.  No one gave The Hammies a chance over there in the Shadows of Mt Lofty, and how wrong were they?  This Whingy Hill Outfit never ceases to amaze.  Crippled by ingrown toenails and heel blisters, they took it right up to The Pride of South Australia.  With their 2012 campaign hanging by less than a 1% thread, they were stiff to lose.  If your heart didn’t go out to them there’s a good chance it’s made of stone, either that or you’re a member of one of the other 17 tribes.  Timmy Watson’s lad Jobe did a fine job leading his teammates from the front all day.  He didn’t do his Brownlow chances any harm either.  They are back in the closing match next Sunday, but this time at least they’ll be away from the elements when they take on Traditional Rivals North Melbourne in a do-or-die clash.

And remember, if you read it in The Wrap you’ll know it’s not crap.

* TAGHLAT – take a good hard look at themselves.

About John Mosig

I'm an Aussie Rules tragic who can remember, as a four year old, shaking the hand of Captain Blood in the rooms just before he ran out onto the ground after half time, as my Old Man slipped him a packet of under-the-counter Craven A cork tipped. Now it's my turn to take my grandson Ben through the ritual of character building that is the journey through PUNT ROAD to the outside world.


  1. Peerless as always Mr Wrap. I have noticed that Mr Green and yourself are among my favourite correspondents, and you seem to share a similar affliction.
    Is it cause or effect? Does Tiger supporting give one a reflective, laconic style or does that predispose one to Tiger supporting.
    Drs Freud and Jung are keen to consider your responses after they have finished with young Ryan Schoenmakers and Wreckless Eric MacKenzie (no need to rush your response then).
    Think you may have an oversight there about young Matty. I recollect him in the maroon, navy and gold of the RoyBoys in his younger days. Perhaps they left him rather than the usual arrangement, so he is technically still a one club man.
    Reminds me of the old Wayne and Schuster gag – showing my age now.
    “When I was 6 years old my home ran away from me.”
    “You mean you ran away from home?”
    “No we lived in a covered wagon and I fell out.”

    Looks like the pills are working. I should be delirious by Friday night and committed to Graylands by Saturday.

  2. You pose a probing philosophical question indeed Mr B. One I’ve never truly considered in any depth, but one which I give the full consideration it warrants.

    Perhaps if I relate how I became a Richmond Faithful it will go some way to answering the tabled question. I was tending my father’s flocks one day when this bush burst into flames. It burnt without diminishing long enough for me to grill some chops, roast some potatoes and boil the billy. Out of the still burning bush came a voice of thunder that told me Punt Road was now my home and that I would be a Tiger for ever.

    However, as I was transcendental at the time I’m honestly not sure sure if I’d reached a laconic state before or after the elevation.

    And could i respectfully suggest that delirium before next Friday’s game may be advisable to avoid disappointment at the final bell.

  3. Careful Wrapster; ground Tiger genitalia is highly desired in oriental medicines and they are apparently running out of the really mean nasty free range ones very quickly.

    They may have to take ‘test tube tigers’ and you may well be skun and knackered.

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