It has taken a lot to get me back to the typewriter. But the avalanche of rugby league tosh and bum-fuddle that has bloated the Daily Dread and the slim-line Clever Chronicle about the Rusties for the past week has finally done it.
Sure it was moderately pleasing to see the Rusties beat the Hasslers. If only that the lesser evil triumphed on the evening.
That there was a player stupid enough to play on with injury in such a match then that is indeed unfortunate. However when a team’s management is desperate enough for an elusive title, that in this century, they allow not one but two players to play on with significant injuries then why should I stand up and say well done? Why should I doff my lid to this errant disregard for a players welfare re-badged as courage?
And I don’t care if Sam Bully Beagle farts Walzing Matilda through a crack in his skull. And I don’t care if the previously estranged George ‘Grumpy’ Piggins tongue kisses Al Packer. I don’t care about the fucking Book of Feuds. But I do care for the players who in years to come will to be cruelly crippled because dickwits believe that the ends justify the means.
Frankly I just don’t care about simple Souths anymore. Because they are, as I have said before, the new Manly and they stink. The coach Mid-Carder Maguire imported from Dullcity South a bag of wrestling holds and throws that has quagmired the free-flowing game to the extent that every contested tackle is an exercise in grip, grope and grapple. He had no problem with injured players playing on. No worries. That he got Coach of the Year shows how little respect the NRL numbskulls have for the future of the game.
And of course both the Dread and the Clever regaled us with wonderful ownership tales about Rusty’s partner, Petro Hyphen selling out. Petro has wanted out even before Al Packer’s speakeasy started to sponsor the Rusties. Petro apparently hated the Club to be so heavily associated with gambling. Of course it will not be a problem now with Al, from the big end of town. As Grumpy says: