Nick Davis Still Soft

Loved seeing Bucks get into Nick Davis on Saturday night for ducking his head. Longtime readers will know of my hate for the little prick.

When asked about it, Bucks told The Age:

"There's a lot of mud that's thrown out on the footy field and it only hurts when it sticks, and that's up to the individual that's receiving it how they handle that."

"I get sledged every week and I got sledged on Saturday night for a similar call, but it's how you react to it."

The Age also pointed out:

"Barry Hall sledged Buckley after he also dropped a mark soon after the Davis incident. Buckley continued to have an impact on the game despite Hall's verbal attacks. Davis, however, did not."

Good to see others noticing that Davis can't take the shit talk he so often gives out.

Rex's Secret Flashin'

Here's the highlights typed straight from my mum's copy of New Idea.

The Rex I'd see in the alleyway was like an excited 13-year-old.

Rex was a perfect gentleman. He would hold my hand, buy me flowers and talk.

"Rex is an exhibitionist," Robyn explains. And she admits he has a kinky side. "Rex was almost caught once about five years ago in a public place naked as a jaybird. A motorist caught him in full force with the headlights of his car. I had on this fluffy leopard print coat and Rex hid behind me and said: "If he asksyou, deny everything!"

As Robyn explains it, she would always be clothed, but Rex would have flung off his clothes by the end of their encounter so he was starkers.

He'd hold her chin so she did not avert her gaze.

"I was to look him straight in the eye and to breathe on him. I would tell him he was wonderful. Then he would work himself to a stae of excitement shouting: "Oh my God, you're going to kill me. You're going to give me a heart attack!"

A Boy And His Footballing Alpaca

I know I've posted this already at The Nightwatchan but I can't get enough of 8 year old Rory Matthews and Chicky, his footballing alpaca.

My friends are worried to the point of being told I've "clearly gone insane" with my excitement for this story. They could be right.

Rory's first game against humans since he made front page news was covered on all the channels' TV news last night.

Chicky watched the game from inside the family car parked behind the goalposts. At half time Rory guzzled water from a huge water bottle. Chicky had milk.

When asked what position Chicky would play if he could, Rory matter of factly stated that due to his strong tackling muscle, Chicky would play the backline, somewhere between centre half back and full back.

Strangely Jet, the border collie, Hamlet, the minature pig and Lu Lu the cockatoo were snubbed by television reporters last night.

Earlier this week Rory's dad told The Daily Telegraph:

"Because he's such a small guy, when he first started playing he was too much of a gentleman and would let everyone else get the ball, so I just threw Chicky out there one day when he was kicking because Chicky has an attitude, and it just started from there.

Now Rory is a tackling tiger. He is a fierce tackler on the field now."

Photos from The Daily Telegraph.

Boycott The "Inevitable"

So I wake this morning to read Channel Seven are pushing to have a night grand final next year. The AFL deny an approach by Seven and say they won't budge on staying with the day final. Shithouse ex-footballer and even more inept politician, Justin Madden reckons a night grand final is inevitable. Our fat president said the same last year.

Inevitable.

Big word, that. It's time for fans and columnists to strike back with a bigger word.

Boycott.

Boycott every every person and everything they peddle who utters the word. Channel Seven? No Mel & Coshie. Fat President? No McDonalds. Justin Madden? Tough call, but vote Liberal next election. That's how dire a night grand final is. If Justin Madden welcomes a night grand final, I'm voting Liberal next year.

More reason to detest Channel Bruce is the report they are about to strike a deal with Foxtel which will mean only half of the weekends' games will be seen on free to air television.

The Best Herald Sun Headline In Years

The Best Herald Sun Headline In Years, originally uploaded by glennpeters.

Pure subediting genius.

We Should Fight The 2002 Grand Final In The Courts

Now that the AFL reckon it's okay to change results after the game there's no reason why we shouldn't contest 2002. Anthony Rocca kicked a goal which was called a point. On replay it's clearly a goal.

The difference would have won us the grand final.

I'll see you in court!

Timekeepers Shlimekeepers

Last year I argued that AFL Season 2005 should be VOID because in our game against Sydney the timekeeper robbed us of 14 seconds from the last quarter.

When a similar thing happened last weekend in the game between The WA Anchors and Boo For StKilda I didn't give a rat's arse.

You see, I don't care for what happens to other teams in the competition. I only watch and read about Collingwood. Ask me what I think of your team's chance in the game next week and I will say something polite like, 'Gee I dunno, could be a close one.'

Ask me about what I think of your new Rising Star nominee and you'll get me talking up Heath Shaw and Dale Thomas .

Could watch Dale Thomas play all day. Love the guy. Grant Thomas? Reminds me of all the shitty fat bosses I've ever had. Can't stand the bloke.

The World's Biggest Winners

This week a few of us went to the AWB Kickbackwards Dome's nightclub, The Locker Room for a bit of post game gloating. After a 12 goal win it seemed the most sensible thing to do.

To get in we had to struggle through the throngs of Joffa hanger-ons singing his songs outside. Nerds and reprobates the lot of them. Love Collingwood and all but fark, I'm so over Joffa and his disturbed lookin' mates. Watching them celebrate a win is like being let into a band camp (as in there was this one time at band camp) five year reunion. Tedious as all fark.

But when it comes to disturbance, Joffa's brood has nothing on the clientel at The Locker Room. More on that in a second.

First we gotta realise The Locker Room is a nightclub in a football stadium. I'll repeat it. A nightclub in a football stadium.

Bad disco, Coogar Girls (yes, they do exist) and a hundred televisions playing the footy replay is a mixed up little paradise. The occasion is punctuated by the DJ sparking up the winning team's club song every twenty minutes. If he slackens off, the patrons start off their own rendition, over the top of Madonna's Ray Of Light.

Now for the clientel. I have an extremely good looking, intelligent and funny mate who met a longtime girlfriend half time during a Collingwood game at The Locker Room. The next time I see him I'm going to throttle him.

How could you meet the potential love of your life at the fricken Locker Room? One of our group discretely whispered to me, "The girls here are.... ahem.... a bit plain aren't they?" And the guys were at best portly but on the most part gobsmackingly enormous.

At least they loved singing Good Old Collingwood Forever and what the heck, each one of the humungous, official clubwear wearing pissheads is part of my brood.

I'm off to the bar. Anyone want another Coogar? Two pies, hotdog and chips perhaps?

Destined To A Life Of Pungent Pizza

In an act of one part star spotting and the other pure voodoo, me and a mate thought we'd go to Anthony and Sav Rocca's Carlton pizza restaurant and order takeaway last weekend.

Mark's Place is one of those "family" pizza restaurants. Chunky pine tables, kids menus, balloons, toys hanging from the roof, crayon coloured in pictures and plenty of second rate football parephenalia hanging on the walls.

Don Camillos it aint.

We didn't order the impressive looking Rocca's Rump or Pebbles' Porterhouse from the menu. Instead, went for a half hairy fish/half triple chili pizza.

The chili pizza was very hot, the hottest I've experienced in my long pizza history and the hairy fish was hairy as you want it to be. But there was a problem.

The pizza was incredibly pungent.

My poor old car, The Funbird Mk II still reeks of old pizza and it took three days to get rid of the unpleasant pizza aftertaste. The pizza odour coming from my pores during the next morning shower wasn't the only uncomfortable excretion experienced.

On the following Sunday, Anthony kicked eight straight goals in a stunning win against the Poos & Wees.

Shit. It was because of our visit to Anthony's pizza house, he kicked those eight goals. Had nothing to do with the dud kid who was on him or even the Pies' excellent kicking to the big man. Rocca's success was completely due to those stinking pizzas.

For the good of the club I have to eat from there every week.

I'm not sure my stomach will take it.

Is There A Doctor In The House?

Our first loss to Adelaide was irritating but I'm not ready to cake on the losing lotion just yet. Adelaide were surgical. They were technical. They were scientific. They were precisionistic. They were doctory. They were.... I've run out of the stoopid hospital words to describe them.

So have the newspapers.

Round one of every season, teams play fast and fit. Especially at the ...what are we going to call it this year? Viatel Stadium? The AWB Kickbackwards Grain Silo? Don't know.

Fresh teams like Adelaide are fast indoors. Get them out in the wind and the rain outside at the MCG (do they have the pleasure of playing there this year?) and they're kanoodling nobodies. The Pies looked best when they ran hard and loose. Sure, watching our kooky brand of footy was like watching the General Lee scamper from Boss Hog and his minions but who cares. I want Daisy Duke to pop out midway through the third quarter and kick a few. Was that you, Taz?

Down a gear. I liked our football on Monday.

I liked Dale Thomas' hair and pluck. I liked his interview with Dermott Bereton on the radio afterwards better. "Yeah, no, yeah, no. I guess if I can't run through those older fellas, I may as well jump over them."

Yeah, no, yeah, no, yeah.

Yeeee ha!

Happy New Year!

Bugger the Commonwealth Games.

Stuff the cricket.

Football season is here.

Life starts over.

Wanna Be In My Dream Team League?

I've started a league in the AFL's Dream Team fantasy footy competition. Of course I've decided to give it a catchy name, the VPFL, and maybe report results on this very website every now and then.

Victoria Park readers are real welcome to join. Just register at the Dream Team site and opt to join up under, LEAGUE CODE - 759042.

Another Reason Why We Shouldn't Respect The Sydney Swans

Even though we had a win on the weekend, I'm not going to give the pre-season competition any respect. Footy shouldn't start before the Sheffield Shield ends. It's still summer for frig's sake.

Anyway, check out what Paul Roos told The Age yesterday.

"It was a bit like the old prior opportunity had returned. Last year, I remember we were saying to our players: 'Look, it's going to be red-hot, you might be better off standing back and sweating on your opponent."

Exactly what we all suspected.

Tom Davidson Still Training With The Pies

Even though we delisted him at the end of the season and other clubs have offered to have him train with them, Tom Davidson told The Age yesterday he's spent post season training with us and is hopeful he may be picked up in Saturday's draft.

Davidson is only 22 and young enough to be picked up as a rookie.

Here's more of what he told The Age...

"(Being delisted) shook me up a bit. It's not something I wanted but it might be something I needed. I am looking at it as a fresh start; I am trying to be confident about it. I do feel like I have been robbed a bit."

"It has all gone a bit pear-shaped since that pre-season I did my first knee. I haven't really got my body good enough or fit enough until now. This is the first pre-season I have been able to be running and doing every session."

"I haven't lost any pace. We have a fitness test on Wednesday, so that will be good because I haven't been able to do some testing for a while, but I think I have been running the same sort of times."

Reading between the lines, I reckon he's going to play with us next year. You have to admire his persistance after injury and willingness to continue training with the Pies after being delisted.

Richard Cole Shot Back To The Scene Of His Decline

As I've said before, Richard Cole's career at Collingwood ended at this year's ANZAC Day game. He was given a thorough towelling by his third gamer opponent, Somebody Lovett-Murray. The hyphenated Essendon player won the ANZAC Day Medal and rarely played a good game for the rest of the year.

Cole wasn't given a game since.

We've just traded Cole for pick 23 in the draft, a pick which we'll probably swap with St Kevins Old Boys for Steve McKee and Simon Garlick who we will in turn swap with Sydney for Darren Cresswell, John Ironmonger and one of Oxford Street's more boutique-ish Chai Tea establishmentss.

We really shine on draft week.

My Grand Final Joke

I was in the bank today and there were footy streamers and flags all over the place.

While cashing a cheque I ask the teller, "So, what are you doing for the Granny?"

Teller replies, "Dunno. If she doesn't leave soon, we're calling in Social Services."


I crack me up.

Woewodin Delisted And Dreaming

On hearing of his sacking on the television news, Shane Slow-wodin told Fox News, "I just want to play senior footy."

Slow-wodin wants to go back to The Melbourne Club and reckons he's still got a lot to offer.

"Everyone questions age and pace, it's just a perception."

"I've played for nine years and never been a quick player, and I've achieved what I've achieved without the pace.

"I think it's great to have . . . there's no doubt, to be able to be explosive and run the lines and carry the footy.

And get this.

"But it's also a bonus to be able to get the footy, and I just think it (pace) is overrated at times."

Leg speed was never Slowy's problem.

You call it poor decision making.

I call it derrrrrfred.

When he got the footy, time slowed and if you listened carefully you could hear his excruciating decision making process.

"Ahhh. I got da ball. Clokey's over there. Where's da Bucks? Where's Licca? Who's got da ball? I got da ball. Ball. Ball. Ball. Where's Clokey? Ahhh. Bucks over there. Kick it? To you? To me? Knowing me, knowing you ah hah... There is nothing we can do. Knowing me, knowing you ah hah..."

And in a style reminiscent to Gough Whitlam's It's Time election campaign, Slow-wodin has already started lobbying to get re-signed with The Melbourne Club.

"It's a club I love. I've had some wonderful memories there and it would be great to go back, there's no doubt about that."

"It's whether or not I fit into their structure. I know the boys are pumping for me and want to get me back."

How sad.

Photo from gayfooty.com.au (Your one stop queer football resource).

Nick Davis....We've Seen It All Before

Nick Davis is a cockhead.

Back in 2002 he kicked a couple of goals in the last quarter to get us into the Grand Final. Great, bring out the laurel wreath and all.

Then in the Grand Final he played a shocker.

Choked.

Dissappeared up his own arse.

Shat himself.

Day after the Grand Final I'm at the Victoria Park wake. Players looking devestated except.... "Who's that cockhead up there on the stage in the backwards baseball cap, basketball singlet and stoopid arse smile?"

Nick Davis.

What's he doing? Laughing, joking and cheering when coach announces there's no training for a month.

I've heard we traded him because his team mates thought he was a pain in the arse and that some personal differences with one or two of our stars had become too hard to manage.

I would have thrown him out for acting like a goose while we were fighting back tears at Victoria Park on that awful Sunday afternoon.

If Sydney do make the Grand Final this year just watch him soil himself.

Can't stand the bloke.

Brodie Holland On Dancing With The Stars

Can September get any worse? I'm sure it will.

What Happened on Mad Monday

After the worst football season I care to remember I was keen to book a table at Dom Camillo’s yesterday and eaves-drop on my drunk, hapless and cabonara-stuffed Magpies. Pity I was struck by a massive chunk of ennui and slept through the whole day.

So it was no VB and ravioli soup for me, Sir.

Just as well the sleep was so deep because…..I had a dream.

Sunday morning, 9am and the delisted players, Tom Davidson, Andrew Williams, Brayden Shaw and Matthew Lokan are asked to meet a club psychologist at Meeting Room 4, Lexus Centre.

The shrink’s running late.

Lokan: Hehehehehehehe.
Shaw: What’s Matty reading this time?
Williams: I think it’s that Archie comic again.
Davidson: So, you guys going to that thing at Dom’s tomororrow?
Williams: Dunno.
Shaw: Yeah, no, dunno.
Lokan: Hehehehehehehe.

Blonde girl from reception (they’ve always been and always will be blonde) walks in.

Blonde Girl: Yeah, no, basically Dr Kevin’s just texted me and he’s running late. Can you all come in Tuesday?
Davidson: Fuck off, I’m off to Noosa in two hours.
Williams: Yeah, get fucked, Sharon.
Shaw: Yeah, what they said.
Lokan: Hehehehehehehe.

Priority Clubsong Rewrite

Good old Colingwood however,
We know how to throw a game.
Side by side we stick together,
To uphold the season's shame.
All the barrackers are shouting,
As sad barrackers should,
All the premiership's a cakewalk,
For good old Williamstown.

I Got Two Words For You

And they are.....

SCOTT BURNS.

Photo from the Herald Sun Match report.

What Looks Like a Duck

Smells like a duck and quacks like a duck probably is a coaching decision to:

refuse to play Nathan Buckley further up the field,
play David Fanning in the ruck for only a little over a quarter,
to quarantine Brodie Holland from his nemesis, Scott Camporeale for most of the game,
play Travis Cloke for only a fraction of the game.

Enough.

Saturday night's loss to Carlton was outrageous and an insult to 200 gamers, Scott Burns and Shane Wakelin. Sure, we were undermanned blah blah blah but if any of the decisions listed above were addressed properly the score would have been a lot closer.

Nathan Buckley openly argued with the bench. Again.

There's been too much talk about throwing games in some sort of Faustian pact with the national draft.

Fark that.

Now we're looking seriously at a wooden spoon.

We MUST beat Footscray and/or Adelaide in the next fortnight. We already sold our souls by moving out of Victoria Park.

Enough.

Magpies don't quack.

Arden Street Loves Me

North Melbourne supporters can be scary. Especially the Port Melbourne blazer wearing inbreds who stand on the flight lounge wing of the Docklands Sewerage Outlet.

And they love me.

In 2001 I was priveleged to be put on a list which appeared on a North Melbourne footy website listing "media bastards and bitches that run our club down..."

Here's what a reprobate called "Darky" reckons about me.

"The unlikliest of sources brings another contender...

Melbourne's "InPress" freebie magazine. Some turd called Glenn Peters on page 71 (2/5/01) has an absolute bitch about Carey and Pagan and how much he hates our club, in his weekly column.

Just a few hints Glenn :
1. You are not a music journalist
2. You are definietely not a sports journalist
3. Your 15 minutes of nowhere-near-fame is a weekly column stuck next to the classified ads in a free newspaper that gets picked up, scoured over for five minutes, and chucked in the bin or left on train seats. Life has passed you by, you little shit.
4. In return for your apparent hatred of Wayne Carey, you are so insignificant he will never know you are alive. How does that make you feel... hate, hate, hate and you will never get a bite back.
5. If you're gonna write for a free magazine, try Beat or MX, loser!"

Darky's being quite generous when he says Inpress gets "scoured over for five minutes." I would give the street paper two to three minutes, tops.

The Ins And Outs Tell Our Sad Story

IN: Davies, Didak, Hall, Lokan, C.Morrison
OUT: Tarrant (susp), Lonie (knee)

Five Reasons Why We Will Appeal Tarrant's Three Week Suspension

1. Tazza wants another break. Five weeks will get him over to the end of the season. Like in the old soap ad, this time "Tahiti would be nice."

2. The tribunal's outcome coincides with Thursday night's Footy Show which is in danger of a ratings schlacking by the final episode of The Amazing Race and another guest-star acting (!) appearance of You Am I's Tim Rogers on MDA.

3. The WA Anchor player deserved it.

4. Smoke and mirrors. No, I'm not talking about Malthouse distracting us over the team's bad form. Work it out.

5. The Collingwood Football Club and its fat president needs more media exposure.

My Jeff Kennett Letter In Saturday's Age

kennett, originally uploaded by glennpeters.

Enough said.