Match Report – 4th April 2019

5-3(?) v Harchester
CB(1?),DC(3,mom),CG, RH, TH, TK,TW(1?)

holy crap, what a game.

So the nannas came into this one on a hot run of form sitting third on the table. Our opposition were siting in second, just above us, but with an unbeaten record. Harchester are a team we’ve played plenty of times in the past, they go pretty hard and it always gets a little heated, sometimes more so than than others. The Celtic hoops have some skilful players and aren’t shy to shoot from outside the box so we knew we’d have our work cut out for us. But holy freaking crap did the Nannas stand up. We totally stepped them the fuck back. So much so that there was never really any doubt. Often the Nannas can go ahead by a couple of goals yet retain an uneasy sense of impending collapse. But not this game, not this night. We freaking bossed this shit and the longer it went on the more frustrated the opposition became, the more kicky and petulant, to the point were it actually started getting totally out of hand. Tao had his legs scythed out from under him, the Coach got slammed so hard he was doing kind of barrel rolls through the air and at one point their goalie through a ball at the author’s head! There were also some big knocks the other way, the ginger haired viking went down a couple of times, once to the sound of slippery slack jaw clacking. It was fucked up, the ref had totally lost control and the game was finally cut short by about a minute to avoid any further escalation of violence.

Afterwards we went to Howler for beer, combustion and the talking of shit. But the game had been so epic and our performance so heroic and the pints so threefold that a cohort of extra brown musketeers made a secondary push to Joe’s for another pint and a final cheeky pot. And as the night was still only young, well actually it was 2AM by this point, the MOM made a tertiary drop-in to Top Shelf™ for a last frisky nightcap and a touch of the archival vapours… suffice to say there were hangovers.

holy crap, what a game.

match report – March 28 2019

11-2 v The Eunuchs
cb(1), dc(8 mom), ec(2), rh, tk, tw, prince

An historic game. Not since the days of yore, whence the Nannas graced the Albert Park pits, has a goal haul of such gargantuan girth been recorded. In fact a pendulous collection of this magnitude has never before been seen in the Nannas ledger.  Until this game the most goals scored by a single Nanna in a single match was a brace of hat-tricks , the noble sextet *snigger*. A fact almost enshrined in the MOM voter that, like a standard die, only goes up to 6. A quick sweep of The Book of Nanna failed to illicit any hard proof but it is the understanding of the author that the lofty hexad of goals has been secured on only 3 occasions hence, all in the dim mists of the primordial days of the pits. There have been fours and even the odd five from time to time but nary a 6 in at least a decade. And then this. Not a 6, nor even a 7, neh, this was; an Octave, that miraculous gift of physics to music;  a Byte, that elegant and efficient binary grouping of bits; The Ogdoa, the “little holy number” of the Pythagoreans;  Infinity on it’s side! That’s right people, 8, 8 freaking goals! It was so impressive, the captain bought the author a pint of beer, chasby took a team photo* with his wet plate collodian camera and then we all went home.

 

*still unposted

21 March ‘19 Tight Five and All match report

ATT: CB, DC, CG, JH (MOM), RH
Nannas 4 plays Copa Cobana 3

Time stamp:
Fletcher was officially five months on the day after the game; it had been just under five months since I had played for the Nannas.
Prelude:
Of the Nannas, there were five to take to court, with El taking up a sixth position. It was muted that we get a seventh but six was deemed ample (by those in the know). Yet, the sixth, El, did not end up being the sixth, as he somehow contrived to run into the back of a parked vehicle on the way to the game. Furthermore, for a moment, it did appear that Cocky would not make it either, having to tend to his injured child, but with about five minutes to spare he showed himself.
So, we were five. And what a magnificent vista of manhood we were too. At the back stood Gilla. Resplendent in his keepers kit, huffing it out nicely with his ample chest and sizable thighs. It was obvious, for anyone keen on looking, that getting past him would take some doing. At the other of the court, Cocky took his place. All pace and fury, all movement and magic, the Cock’s intent would be running himself back and forth, making the opposition pay for any look they gave him on goal. Just behind the Cock lurked the Chas. Now let me tell you a thing about the Chas. He might look ungainly, all legs a loping, but in truth they don’t call him the most beautiful Nanna for nothing. At right back was the Captain. With a fresh shave, he was a picture of sculptured sinew and monumental muscle; sleekness, out to cut a swathe through the opponents’ flank. Beside him is where I took up station. From my vantage point the court seemed small, the ball hard, the opposition slight and pink. I felt like we had them.
First half:
The early exchanges were positive. The Nannas took early touches, making favourable forays forward. We had the ball and were going to keep it. Furthermore, it was only a matter of time until we would break them down and score, and so it proved. The ball was delivered to me by Captain (I think) just inside their territory. Cocky could see plenty of space down their right flank and ran to where he hoped the ball would be delivered. I put it in front of him, and he duly slotted home. It was a fine effort given his natural right-footedness and the keeper came to meet him at the near post. 1-zip.
They got one next. It was their only good move for the entire game, opening us up with some fine passing and movement, which the Nannas were hard pressed to counter. 1-1.
Next came our second. I got the ball mid-court on their left with my back to goal. I had one dude to my back, and another loitering to my front. As the dude in front came to challenge, I slipped it passed him and turned the dude to my rear. All I had to do next was finish, which I did, hitting it low and hard, to the keeper’s right. 2-1.
I am pretty sure they got another before half time but can’t remember it.
Half time: 2-2.
At the break the Captain talked to us of pressure and keeping up our previous efforts. His masculinity and silky skin a guide and inspiration for all the Nannas.
Second half:
Chassy took this inspiration to heart, leading the way with those loping legs of his. Early in second stanza he thought he was through but the ball jilted loose, leaving Chassy to run past their goals with nothing to show for it. Yet, as their keeper threw it back in, Chas saw his chance and jumped its intended recipient as the ball rolled toward him. He stole, he turned on goal, he placed it neatly passed their keeper. 3-2.
Their next goal was my fault. The ball came bouncing through. I failed to clear it, only getting a weak touch, which only set them up. 3-3.
This last goal proved a tonic for the Nannas; we knew we were better than these young punks, we knew we could beat them, and we certainly knew we weren’t going to lose. So we pushed forward time and time hitting cross bars, skewing our shots just wide, missing final touches that would have let us in on goal until finally, during one of these attacking raids, the Cock was hauled down just outside their penalty area. He stepped up, sizing up the shot. They put three in the wall, and had one marking Chassy over to on Cocky’s left. That left me unattended, so I wondered over to the right. There I stood all alone, the back of the net beckoning me like David Beckham’s flashing boots. Cocky was given the green light to strike. He pondered his options. He looked at the wall, throwing a cursory glance in my direction. I wondered, will he kick it to me? The moment lingered, until suddenly the ball came my way; the perfect pass, expertly weighted, right in the middle of my stance. All I had to do was lean back and lash into the top right corner, which I did. 4-3.
Then came the last two minutes of the game. We felt in control, we were pushing for a fifth, the killer blow. But somewhere in all that dash and hustle, pushing forward, striving for that final pass, we gave it up, and, in true Nanna fashion, in mid-field too. Well, the opposition saw their chance, could they steal a draw from the clutches of defeat, maybe even get two and take the victory? The Nannas backpedalled, Gilla threw himself this way and that, heaving that huffing chest of his as he repelled shot after shot. Suddenly, all our control and passing deserted us, not being able to even get a touch. Suddenly we were under the pump. But the clock was against them, and we, even though we did panic a little, were resolute.
Final score 4-3.

Match Report Thursday 21st February 2019

armpit deep in shit

7-2 v Dynamo Tehran, Brunswick Secondary
CB (2), DC (5, m), CG, RH, TH, TW

2019 is really proving to be quite the nostalgia trip. Drinking beer at the Lounge; playing retro arcade games; going to ACMI. And tonight’s game of futsal totally went there with a veritably archival display from the Nannas against our old friends Dynamo Tehran. This was golden era Nannas, like David Milch was show running the game, like Vince Gilligan was writing our moves. 

It started off slow, keeping the audience expectations low, the Nannas going a goal down early on. But then the Coach, finding himself on the right of midfield with nowhere to go, opted for a scoop pass over the top. The author followed the graceful arc of the ball over his right shoulder, at which point the script called for an outlandish waist height half volley, like that was going to happen, but it’s actually the early 2000s now and the Nannas aren’t middle-aged old farts anymore and bang, in it goes, unbelievable. But to keep the audience guessing Vince now throws in a second goal for the Bike Powered Iranians. Ooooooo. The Nannas rose tinted fairytale has clouded over. But no, freaking hell no, freaking hell-will-freeze-over-before-I-wear-clothes-I-didn’t-personally-scrounge-out-of-massive-bin-and-pay-for-by-the-kilo-in-the-90s no… this is not how it is going to go. The rose tinted fairytale is going to become a vermillion saturated orgy of engorged goals, golden showers of golden era massive testicular defensive impenetrablity. 

As the credits roll on our standard definition 4:3 dreamscape the camera pans past the scoreboard. In bright red LED (because although it’s really 2003, strangely, LEDs are already in widespread use for scoreboards) we see the numeral 7 and the numeral 2. We hear the cheering of the crowd and we can almost hear the smiles on the faces of the Nannas. Like some kind of hot tub time machine the Nannas have been rinsed in the glories of the past, bathed, cleansed and spun out with the sparkling glow of a vintage win against an old and noble foe.

From there we moved to an EXT – NIGHT shot of bikes sliding through the brunswick balm towards a thursday porterhouse at the retreat (Tao got jibbed), pints of beer (Tao got anti-jibbed with the first round of Panhead pale ale) and a presage for the Coach and the Author of the combustion apocalypse that was going to engulf Chasbenis™ on his birthday paddle… oh dear.

MATCH REPORT – 14 Feb 2019 – VALENTINE’S DAY MASSACRE

ATT: CB, TW, DC(2), EC(1), CG (MOM), RH, AW (dining only) and JM

NANNAS 3 versus CHEFFY FC 5

 

It definitely wasn’t a massacre. We were in it up til the last second.  Well, pretty much.

We walked onto the court with the newest of all Nanna’s Jason Monty. And a fine pick up he was. Fast, turning nothing into something, nearly incredible, several times.

We started with purpose until a crossbar shot of theirs bounced off our good looking goalie and then went back into the goal. A disappointing beginning. Then they got another and then the Brown Men awoke. The  change up was immediate. We realised that Elliot was probably older than some of the other players. They had a forward who looked VERY young. Maybe 16, but of course was amazing. They obviously came down from first division and hadn’t played some one who had ever seen the 70’s.

They had INCREDIBLE turning ability and put it into play often. But that didn’t stop the Nanna’s from scragging our way back into the game. We came within a goal at the end and then they got their last and they drew away. But we kept the pressure on right up to the end. We were BROWN and PROUD. A lion would have roared somewhere in the world last night between 7:20pm and 8pm.

How was Tao’s anger you ask? First game back for 2 months? He was gentle like a catholic priest. As sweet as a mother in laws kiss. And demure as David Lee Roth. It was great to have him back on the hustle. No one has the hustle like the little feet of Weis. Cocky and Captain did their thang, . Chassy tried to impress Jason (sorry Jim) and Elliot played like a 29 year old. (First year Nanna’s TM) and scored! Oh, Dan got two. Pretty much….

Post match our numbers changed as Chassy ran off with Jason somewhere….and we were joined by the recently retired (for a year) Andy “The Greek” Wong. As MOM I took it apon myself to order for the boys at the local Vietnamese, Green Fields. I got a 7.

 

 

Match Report 29 Nov 2018

7-6 v Phil with the Big Moustaches’s Pink Team from the League Above Us Due to a Forfiet

dc(3,M), ec(2), cb(2), rh, th(GK), tw,  aw(AC), sb (supporter)

Great game Nannas. It was a forfeit for so we had the points in the bag and Phil with the big moustache’s men in pink had already played a game beforehand but still, it was great game. Complete with comebacks and a narrowly averted reverse comeback draw. 3rd String Goalie Sir Coachalot was massive in goals, shutting shit down with the ancient reptilian back brain hockey goalie muscle memory. Chasbian was the hustle master, harrying and hounding those in vermillion, forcing turnovers left and right and slotting home a couple of tidy little numbers to boot. Toaser was also in fine hustling form and worked the wide channels to great effect. Elliot brought his usual youthful energy and some deft foot skills, at one point taking a long ball from the coach and turning two of the opposition in one fluid move before sliding the ball into the bottom left corner of the goal. The Captain was a constant outlet, making run after run and peppering the goal from both flanks. The MOM managed a hatrick but also a few wayward passes and a couple of should-have-looked-and-passed-instead-of-shooting-from-halfways. Sol was a vocal supporter and Wal turned up for the second half earning another badge for his Holy Order of Arse Coaches Cassock. The game was also documented in a rare moment of mid 2000s gopro flashback (followed by the mandatory day of javascript fumbling trying to write an auto-retiming algorithm)

post game we went to the Retreat for cheap steaks and some suspiciously thin Steam Ales.

post pub we went to Gello Bar ( Chasbian’s failed attempt to distract from the Slurpees that Sol and El were angling for) where Tao tried the Avergae, apparently a mix of Averna and Algae “You wouldn’t think it would work, but it does”.

meanwhile: Robert Mueller appears to be closing in on Individual One as Michael Cohen admits to lying. Labor absolutely smashed the Victorian election, which is good for  a solar rebates. Michael Kroger ( who I think might have some indigenous ancestry, which would be deeply ironic) has resigned after Jeff Kennet said he should on live TV. Knickers the cow (steer) is actually quite big and Arsenal finish top o father group in the Europa League with a game to spare. Perhaps most importantly though Andy ‘Walmartin’ Wong, the Life Coach’s Life Coach, dropped a bit of a bombshell of this own, yes, a blatant heritage violation, removing a drunken chimney from his property, outrageous. He also mentioned that his appearances on the court of battle may be significantly reduced due to osteoarthritis in his big toe. It sounds a lot like some kind of greek euphemism but apparently it’s true. Some fluid came out when Andy’s bone went in ? or something like that. In any case it would appear that Andy’s HOAC cassock and brown tie may be getting more of a workout than usual… RIP in the chat.

ps. it was Sillustani in Peru with the crazy awesome pre-incan funeral towers, but I can’t find any definitive internet proof that the name refers to the bit of land where the chulpas are located being shaped like a “toe” poking into the lake…

 

Match Report – 4 oct 2018

Image result for dukes of hazzard

9-2 v The Titans
DC(4m), RH(2or3), TW(3or2), AW, TK

Well, what a game. the flurry was titled The Regroup Flurry following the previous week’s abject forfeit* and what a way to regroup. With only a tight 5 in attendance there was initial concern about when we would run out of legs (as befits a team whose members are rapidly approaching the half century). But the opposition turned out to be only 10 years younger and perhaps a rung or two down on the futsal skills ladder. Those 5 – tightest of tight, brownest of brown, nannaest of nanna – freaking dominated. The goals were veritably raining in, with a goodly portion coming via the classic 2 on 1 tap-in. The author (if he does say so himself) was channelling Eden Hazard with his striking accuracy, picking corners of the net, as in actually aiming for them, and then slotting the ball exactly where it was meant to go. Like playing pool on about the 4th beer where every shot is just coming off. Of course the fact that the opposition didn’t really do a lot of running back and the goalie didn’t really come off his line… be damned, it was freaking Eden Hazard** out there. The Captain and Taoser tucked away 5 between them (I can’t remember who got the hattrick), Andy was tackling like a machine, especially their one very large aggressive ginge and Kondo was imperious as usual in goal, particularly in the close quarters hand to hand combat situations. what a game.
Après we went to curry cafe and did a lot of waiting but were finally rewarded for our well worn patience with some delicious Indian and red ales. there was talk of camping and renovations, crap black mirror seasons, flotation chambers. Nannas were shocked to discover other nannas don’t have netflix subscriptions. Brett the douchebag crybaby Kavanaugh was rightly talked shit about and Mr Trump continued to flabber everyone’s gasts. The coach spent his birthday cleaning up vomit.

commentator 1:  “It’s called a grand final”
commentator 2:  “yep”

* I think there have only been 2 forfeit’s in the last 18 years, so this was the third… those involved shall remain nameless but shall hang their heads in shame.

** I love Eden Hazard. Not only does he have the maddest skills (and a very low centre of gravity) but whenever he scores a goal instead of thanking jesus he smiles impishly and sticks out his tounge.

16 August ‘18—dukes up match report

ATT: CB, DC, EC, CG, JH (MOM), RH, AW

Nannas 9 plays B West 2

Preamble: it was my penultimate day at the Department, and as so often happens in this situation everyone wanted me to do something for them. To shake this off I went visiting Jezza at the Great Northern for a couple of drinks and smokes.

I did think I may have overdone it as I was feeling just a little jaded riding up to Brunswick but once I arrived I seemed to perk up somewhat. I dunno if it was the stadium, the sight of fit young men playing soccer, or just being in the presence of Nannas. Whatever it was, I started to really feel like playing.

The game: the opposition were five; there were a man down but had a ringer. We were seven. Tao had his times all mixed up and had to do the late extraction but El was more than willing to deputise, that is, after he digested his KFC but let us not hold his dietary choices against him. In those first five minutes El was our shining light. While most of the Nannas lumbered across the court, El belied his tender years and flew from confrontation to challenge, from pass to intercept, and then got our first goal. In these early stages in the match, when we went two goals down, he almost single-handedly brought us back into the game.

It was also El, displaying this same exuberance of youth, that led to a major flashpoint. It was about 10 minutes in and El was hustling and bustling this dude for the ball. Chassy was also there trying to wrest it away as well. El challenged, and then he challenged a third, fourth, and fifth time. Eventually the whistle blew and when it did there was the normal disengagement of bodies, but also the need of opponent to detach from opponent, you know, give him the good ol’ chest push. El gave him one, the dude gave him one back. This is where it would usually end with one or two parting words and a couple of dirty looks shot in the other person’s general direction but on this occasion the dude decided that wasn’t enough for him and that the throwing of blows would be a more fitting finale to their small, and seemingly innocuous meeting. He put his dukes up.

Unsurprisingly Nannas were seen hauling arse from everywhere. In fact, it was the quickest most had seen them moved all night. Phil to his credit stepped in, flashed his red card in the face of the dude and his up-pointed dukes and that was that.

The big question on everyone’s lips after this was: would the Nannas be able to make them pay? Would we hold the ball, pass it around, use the extra man to our advantage, or would we throw it away, pass to no one and just generally fuck ourselves? Well, let’s just say that it was a lot of former and a little of the latter. Yes, there were some few shit moments of play where we couldn’t seem to hold onto it, but for the most part our passing was on target, our teamwork was shit hot and we went on to score eight goals, effectively cutting them up.

Of course, their ringer decided at half time that he would desert the sinking ship that was B West, but Joel did come on for them, and so did one of those very crafty and skilful Iranians but we were too good.

I do remember some great goals: by father and son duo Cocky and El; a couple of toe pokes by yours truly; a fine ball from El setting up the right foot volley also by yours truly; but then there was the full length cross-court pass, with a header to finish.

Yes, this was the goal of the game (which probably earned me MOM) but it was a goody. Gilla fed me at the back. One of their players rushed forward to close me down but I could see Cocky in space at the other end of the court, a couple of metres to the left of goal. I pinged it long and hard, figuring that Cocky would pull it down, turn and shoot. He did nothing of the sort. He threw his sizable melon at it, connecting just at the right angle to force the ball into the back of the net. Cocky did mention after the game that their keeper was well out of position but still, it was a great goal.

Match report 9.8.18

‘‘Twas the night before Friday, a sacred night. The only night in the week that is not, not Thursday. This particular not, not Thursday was the not, not Thursday of brown pride, of victory, a display of raw power that has not been seen for the past Millenia. 8-3. Double plus 2. This night shall go down in history as one of the greatest conquests in modern history. This monumental game shall never be forgotten. The numbers eight and three were burned into the retinas of every individual who witnessed the game.

Who knew so much power could be squeezed into such a small booth.

-Vistor [elliot]

Match report 22 06 18 part 2

Doris day said it first in 1952
‘The melon on the vine is ripe, mr Tap Toe’

It’s easy to gloss over such a lyric as a simple rhyme to
‘Sharper than an old tin-type, Mister Tap Toe’ but if you take the time to unpack these simple words you find a truth that cuts to the heart of the Nannas.

What Doris wants us to see is that when anything is in its prime it needs to be capitalised upon or it will fall to the ground and rot, attracting insects and vermin. What Doris would have seen on the 21 July 2018 is a group of men PEAKING. A team reaching its zenith, a tightly honed unit that needs to be picked from it’s vine, peeled and presented on a platter.

It is our time, it is our place, this is our year and our season. I feel plump and juicy, squeeze me and feel the ripeness.

2018_06_16 Match Report

CB, DC(1), JH ((2)MOM), RH ((1)MOM), TK(G), TW ((1)MOM), AW

Having more than one MOM really is a race to get the report done or one is just repeating everything that’s already been said. What more can I do now that the wordsmith Jim Hannan has come before me? It’s not like I get paid to write anything.

As Jim say, it was a well fought game against a worthy adversary. The most class of Nanna’s on this night. Passing was tight and right. The ball was hitting the back of the net at both ends and few unworthy ones of theirs were getting through (except for their equaliser that was my fault 😢).

21 June ‘18 triple MOM match report—part 1

ATT: CB, DC, JH (MOM), RH (MOM), TK, TW (MOM), AW

Nannas 5 plays Green guys 5

This was one of the best games that I can remember the nannas playing for a while. We really should have won but it was one of those things: we went behind, we fought back, they fought back, we weren’t going to let them best us, they kept coming.

Early in the piece it did feel like the Nannas were in for a long night, as we easily gave up possession in mid field and the boys in green strung together about four or five cross-court passes only to find the net at the end of it.

This early goal, however, only seemed to steel the Brown Men to their task. After that we held the ball (the control was huge as compared to the previous week), we passed effectively (hitting our targets time and again), we ran our socks off (Coach would have been proud), and we defended stoutly (about half a dozen times the Green Boys found it hard to find a player).

Then we got our first; I received the ball just outside their area with my back to goal, one-on-one (can’t remember who fed it to me). I turned my man and put in the far corner.

Then the Captain got one. Their keeper was slow clearing his lines, Hinkley could sense it and was on the hunt. He shut him down, the ball spilling to his feet and then he slotted home.

I can’t really recall most of the opposition’s goals but I am pretty sure the pattern was, after those first three goals and we went 2-1 up, they would equalise only for us to pull ahead again.

Anyway, so then it was Tao’s turn to shut down the keeper. Again their shot stopper was slow to clear, and perhaps underestimated the power and fury of his opponent, for as everyone knows Tao can bring both in abundance. Tao got in his face, read the direction he was going to go and when their keeper tried to hoof it downfield and to safety Tao was all over him and from the resulting ricochet the ball found the back of the net.

Next up was the Cock, who I was trying to coerce more movement out of (channelling the Coach). He must have heard me, because, in the very next moment, as I turned to my head following the ball, he had slipped under the radar to position himself perfectly in front of goal. When the ball was duly delivered, he, very stylishly, back heeled it for our fourth.

Cocky also laid on our fifth, with a perfectly weighted ball down the right. I was actually running to the middle and had to change direction and for a minute thought I wouldn’t get there but the pass was millimetre perfect: it drew the keeper out but at the same time allowed me enough time to slip it past him and into the bottom right corner.

Notes:

Note to Chassy: not sure why no one voted for you, you played okay, but probably best not to give me a big hug so close to kick off, you almost had me in tears.

Note to Kondo: some great distribution and fine shot stopping (as per usual); we just have to work on you drawing the man.

Note to Wal: keep making those backdoor runs, it’s always a delight to see you convert from that position.

Note to Hinkley: make those headers count; that’s the second you’ve missed recently.

Note to Cocky: stop looking so hang-dog, it really doesn’t suit you.

Note to Tao: thanks for some great post-match hosting of the Socceroos game, and just thanks for everything.

14 June ‘18 in memory of Pat Hannan match report

ATT: JH, TH, TK, AW, the two Jameses (the Headmaster and Mr Mercer)

Nannas 4 plays RMIT 12

At the end of work, I must admit I was thinking of going home. I was feeling pretty shit. Then I left work and it was a crappy outside too. It was dark, well windy, and it had that feeling that it might piss down at any moment (more on that later).

But, I dragged myself up to see Jezza. The last couple of weeks, he’d been a bit down himself with his broken leg and all but tonight he was somewhat better and it was good to see him. We went through our usually pre-game ritual; things started to turn around.

For a start, the ride from the Great Northern over to the game was ah-fucking-mazing. It was downhill most of the way, I had the wind coming over my right shoulder, and I was h!gh as a k!te sailing through Princes Park, down past the Juvenile detention centre and then up near the Coach’s old house.

I arrived at the end of the first half of the game before ours and one of the Dynamo Tehran boys asked if I either Andy or I would come on, as one of their players had gone down injured. After my ride, it was exactly what I needed; to get out and keep moving, and get rid of some of the pent up sadness that had been accumulating over the previous week.

I hit three goals for them. Issy on the sideline kept telling me to save it for the Nanna game but the ball kept rolling my way and I kept shooting. That first game ended up 8-4 in our favour.

Then the Nanna game started. I was feeling similarly into it but unlike the previous game we didn’t have as much control, and, crucially, the opposition was somewhat better. On about six or seven occasions we gave away the ball in mid court/our back half and they gratefully accepted the invitation to score.

One gets the feeling that if we weren’t so sloppy in possession we would have been a lot more competitive.

Afterward, we went back to the Great Northern to watch footy (Port versus Dogs). As per usual, I had to leave prematurely to catch my train home. Tommy came out with me, as he had put my bike on the roof of his car, and as we walked to where he had parked the heavens opened.

I was in a quandary: I couldn’t not go, but in that downpour I was going to be soaked within a minute or two, so I asked Tommy if he would give me a lift. Tommy did hesitate, mainly because him, Gilla and I had just visited the funk hole outside only minutes before, and I think he was a bit unsure of how he would handle driving in his state in a torrential rain storm.

He wasn’t the wrong. The windscreen wipers were on full tilt but were only half getting the job done. There were little rivers running over the road, making the lines almost impossible to see. And Tommy was playing some melodic, brain messing Stinky Jim tunes, which were making things only more confusing. But then there was the Nissan Micra of Safety. Oh thank fuck for that little white car that drove slowly just in front of us, leading us all the way down Rathdown and into the city, by which time the water falling from the sky had lessened. And thank fuck for the Coach too.

In loving memory of ‘Pat’ Patrick Francis Hannan: 25-12-1943 to 6-6-2018.

31 May 18 Goalie point-of-view match report

ATT: CB, DC, EC, JH, RH, TW

Nannas 3 plays New Team 5

Yes, I was selected to play in goalie on this evening, given that I put my hand up to do it.

We were pitted against the New Team. They were dressed in white.

The Nannas were six: five regulars, with the reliable Ides filling the now customary vacant sixth spot (I’m sorry if that seems like a negative statement; it’s not meant to be).

The game was decided in the first ten minutes; the New Team swiftly scoring four goals. This was mainly the result of marking leaving our fourth string, and somewhat clumsy, keeper exposed.

After this initial flurry we did tighten up our defence significantly but the damage was done.

The new team only got one more goal, which was the last one, sealing the result.

We got three but were largely ineffectual in attack.

As keeper, I had an interesting view of the game. Here are some of my thoughts:
• The Nannas need to belie their name and collective age, especially early in the game and especially in defence. In those first five to ten minutes, there were some Nannas in defence that seemed to get lost on court, almost to the point of not knowing why they were there in the first place: he wanders here, he looks there, he wonders about the meaning of life, he scratches his stubble, he tries to look focused and like he knows what he’s doing but don’t let it fool you.
I tried to wake these bewildered souls up with some judicious and very loud yelling (a quick point here about my shouting: I accept that I need to tone it down and will try to do so in the future but contrary to what was said post game [that I was screaming at people in the heat of the moment and that made some confused], I would postulate that a lot of Nannas were already very perplexed and my yelling was after the fact, trying to warm these muddled souls to the simple task of picking up a man), which seemed to work after a fashion.
• Never let it be said that the Nannas will let anything get in the way of a good chin wag: before the game, during the game, after the game, at the pub, there is always something to chat about. And you’d have to say that we have this same vacuity on court, albeit in something of a different fashion. There is a collective silence when defending, so much so that the Captain actually didn’t believe me three times (check your Bible) when I said that I had told a certain Nanna to pick someone up. Then he told me to be shut it when I tried to get up someone after about three of the opposition broke free in attack. Curious. This same code of silence applies to our attack too. There is no ‘time’, ‘have a shot’, ‘bring it back’, ‘clear it’. Well, maybe I’m exaggerating here a little but I do think it’s true that the Nannas need to be a lot more verbal on court.
• There was no penetration. The Nannas have never lacked for virility, so says Chris Gill, but maybe he wasn’t talking about our probing ability, on court that is. On this evening, the percentage of completed passes from the goalie to outfield Nannas was high, something in the order of 90% (I would estimate). Yet, even though we had lots of ball, and a lot of the time this ball was in advantageous situations, we couldn’t do much with it. There are various things going on here:
-We do lose the ball a lot. This tends to be either as a result of over-eager attacking play where we try something too ambitious for our limited foot skills, or we think we have to move it on quickly and then kick to no one, or a combination of the two. We also lose it because there isn’t a Nanna who can stop and control play, knowing when to go forward, when to retreat, when to stop.
-We do not move. This was very evident in the second half (although I do remember the Captain making a number of industrious runs down the right). Coach has been on at us for ages about his, and, while Tom can be statuesque in his own play, he is right. Watch any good basketball team and the one thing you notice is that they constantly try to get their opposition out of position through continual movement. Sure, some Nannas hardly manage a trot at times but any such effort should be at the service of getting free of your marker.
-There is still a lack of cohesion about the Nannas. I know what you’re thinking: are you fucking serious? Yes I am. Even though we have played together for 15+ years we still are a bit disjointed in attack/defence/general play.

Post game eating. The Captain took us to some very reasonably priced but extremely tasty Vietnamese, where we asked Ides boring questions about his final two years of school. He was much enthused.

Match Report – Minor Final – 17 May 2018 (by Elliot)

🕗 Thu, May 17, 2018 – 08:00 PM🔸 Brunswick – Court 1 ⚽ FC Dalles – MINOR FINAL

Coach (1), Chazzy, 📣 Captain (ass coach), Kondo (GK), Elliot, Tao, Jim, Le Coq (1), Sol (supporter)

In the first few seconds of the game a flailing fist caught me on the lower lip, blood gushed from the wound and splattered onto the floor. I stared at the man who had just injured me, concentrating hard, I reached out with my mind, I could feel his consciousness, a cold lump of unintelligence just floating there… and then it was gone. I had worked my way to his primary nerve bundles and shut off the protein chain that signals neurotransmitters to be released which immediately shut down his nervous system as messages could not be passed across the synaptic gap which rendered his entire being useless. He slumped to the ground like a life sized human statue made of jelly that had just been taken out of its mould. I had gotten my revenge. No one would ever know it was me that had put an end to his life except him.

Match Report 2018_05_10

vs Dynamo Tehran (Loser’s Semi-Final)
9-2 Victory
CB 4, DC 3, EC 2, TW, CG, TK

(To be read aloud in the style of a pirate or a swashbuckler)

Ole Big Burly Chest wasn’t there

It didn’t matter

Cos we was

There.

Oh yes we were, we were there with bells on,

Raining goals down upon them

Like a rainstorm,

An unholy tempest.

Nay we were.

’tis the truliest thing i ever spake.

Ay.

Dat’s roight.

Oh we won it.

We won it roight up in ’em.

Ah we did.

Left me happy all the next day.

Happy as a lark.

As sunshiny as a new born son.

All happy and squelchy and shiny.

Dat’s roight.

We beat ’em good nar.

Match Report 2018_04_19

4-6 Loss Vs Perspolise
DC (2), JH (1), RH, Principal, TH (G), TW (1(MOM))

Against a mighty good and, may I say, gracious team the Nanna’s were outclassed but managed to hold our own and save face a lot better than our first meeting with these semi pros.

Some extremely tasty passing by the Nanna’s helped us slot away 4 goals to keep us within a snifter distance of victory but alas it was not to be that kind of a glorious night.

Not that we should hang our heads in shame. No not at all. The top team are a team worthy of being beaten by.

Post game the captain took my daughter in his car and, as if he knew I was going to get there before him, and though he knew there was a rock star park out the front of the decided upon venue for eating and drinking, he sent me to the wrong venue to keep that rock star park all to himself. Well played captain, well played.

There was nothing going to dampen our spirits on this night of nights with the news we had all been waiting for was upon us. Jim was finally leaving the Nanna’s…. for good. Alas this was not to be. Instead we were greeted with even better news. Another Nanna will be brought into the fold. A new little Hannan will be coming into the world. Hooray for Jim……… and Christiana I suppose. Love and Kisses brother.

team photo – 12 Apr 2018

 

Super dodge digital photobooth at The Penny Black on Sydney Road following a ‘cancellation’ due to lack of electricity at Brunswick secondary. 5 Nannas and 2 ring-ins.

1x Nanna left in huff
1x Ring-in left because he didn’t have any ‘going out’ clothes
1x Ring-in left abruptly due to parenting emergency
4x Nannas drank beer, GHAG, listened to live music and played pool ! Giller and The Coach where literally on fire for the first round, then it all went downhill, then we took a team(booth)photo.

Match Report – March 8th 2018 – by Elliot

прошлый четверг нанны сыграли матч против Гарри Поттера. Риан забил хет-трик, а нянцы выиграли 5 – 2. Гарри Поттер пытался пробить шестнадцатилетний (он был очень зрелым). После игры мы съели самые изысканные тако.

Match Report 20180301

5-8 Loss Vs Bens Babes
TK (G), DC, JH (3), TH, RH (C), TW (2(MOM)), AW (AC)

Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, for yelling at my fellow Nanna’s and at the ref (though I think I only did that the week before and not so much on this night)

It was a well fought game against a pretty good side. They did start to tire near the end but then again so did we. Their shots on goals were mostly good but it could’ve been a bit of a tighter game if not for some less than tidy defence on our behalf. We know we can be good in defence but when we’re not we really pay for it.

The captain said to me post game he thinks we could beat them. This may be a little optimistic but you never now. Probably on our best day we could when we all work together, run together and don’t leave each other hanging. We need to look for and use each other when we can. Holding onto the ball for too long tends to have the one outcome, giving the ball to the opposition (and yes I am guilty of that).

So in our next game let’s try and be nicer to each other, encouraging rather than angry. Let’s get faster passes, especially from any free shots. Don’t wait for the ball to be brought to you, run in grab it and get the shot out there before the opposition have time to regroup. Our best shot is to get the ball up our end while the other teams are runnings back. Fast turnarounds is what we need. And running down the opposite side when someone has a run on the ball. There should always be back up. The ball may be passed to you or you might find yourself with a rebound to take advantage of.

Let’s climb that ladder of glory Nanna’s.

Third person match report: 22 Feb 2018

Someone 6 plays Nannas 0

Att: CB, DC, JH, RH, TH, TK, TW

Introductory comments:
The Nannas were looking to bounce back after a particularly terrible performance the week prior. It wasn’t just the score that looked miserable in hindsight but the way we went about it. Once the Nannas went behind, all our bad habits started to re-emerge: Gilla and Tao had a fight over who was take a free kick, and then carried that into the half time talk, and I had to stand between them to try to get them to focus on more constructive matters; speaking of halftime, we had three people, Gilla, Coach and Captain, all vying to try to give the pep talk (I really hate saying this but if you’ve said something the week before, and the week before that, and the week before that, and what you’ve said is not really that strategic/tactical, maybe it’s time to focus on something else, or just shut up already! I am so sorry); and then Coach and Cocky started arguing about something in the second half (I didn’t catch what they were on about but it did seem a little puerile and a lot pathetic).

So, on the day of this game, Jim wrote a long post on the flurry, and curiously he was only banished for a few minutes. Obviously, he wasn’t trying to be a smart arse, which he often finds hard to resist; instead he was honest in his suggestions that the Nannas should wake up to themselves and stop with the taking themselves so seriously and the grumpy old man routine. It had only been a month or so prior that they had been accused of being bullies, so after seeing this performance he felt compelled to say something.

The game:
Before kick off the Captain pulled everyone close and repeated Jim’s very wise words, telling all Nannas that they needed to look deep within themselves to rediscover their inner child and an Espirit de Nanna, which had been so sorely lacking on a number of occasions over the last months.

The game itself should have gone better for the Nannas. The first two goals against us were entirely preventable; our marking in front of goal from set pieces is at present wholeheartedly shit. Essentially, as happened the week before, we got behind our opposite number, leaving our keeper stranded one-on-one at point-blank range. The Nannas who let these goals in, and they know who they are, who had similar lapses last week, need to sharpen the FUCK up. It might seem obvious to say but if you are not as fast as your direct opponent, it’s probably a good idea to give that player a yard or two.

We probably should have pulled one back during this time. The ball fell most fortuitously to Jim who was standing just outside their defensive perimeter for a corner. He hit it pretty sweet with his big toe. It beat everyone, especially their keeper but cannoned off the back post.

Jim would do this twice more before the end of the game. Once when he was one on one with one of their defenders with the keeper still to beat. He thought about trying to go around the defender but once more unleashed his big toe. Like in the previous instance he beat the keeper but not the crossbar. On a third occasion, he was over to the left. He had found space. Tao picked him out. This time, he used his instep, but much to everyone’s bemusement, while the ball a third time eluded everyone, it seemed only destined to ricochet off metalwork and away from goal. The only other real chance we had was Coach trying to chest home from a corner. While he got his chest in good position, he never really found the angle or a sweet spot from his left nipple; he probably should have gone with the right but it’s a hard shot and Coach would have produced a miracle if he had of pulled it off.

Discussion
One could make the argument that had Jim (and Coach, and maybe Cocky too) converted, the Nannas might have been more competitive and I find this case compelling. It would have given us hope and would have encouraged us to pass more, as we were finding space and did have time on the ball, especially in the first half. What’s more, their third and fourth goals did come from the bounce of the ball going their way but they were able to finish these, unlike Jim.

Moreover, the further we found ourselves behind, the more we exposed ourselves trying the long or miracle ball but most of the time we only succeeded in giving the ball away, which effectively led to their last two goals.

Post match
We went to the Union and talked about Takeshi’s wedding and bucks.

Match Report 2018_02_08

Vs jalãpeno chinos
4-4 draw
Cb 3, dc 1, tw, rh, jh, cg, tk
Cb mom

“It’s a win!” pronounced the captain immediately following tonight’s game. “A draw is a win for us!” he enthused.

For the chinos it seemed more like a loss. Having been recently demoted from div 1 they didn’t seem too happy to be shaking the hands of the nannas as equals on their descent.

We certainly had to fight hard for it. They had some skills, some fitness and they were motivated. But they were up against “ole king lion” at his wiliest. And you need more than just skill, fitness and motivation to wrestle a victory from the giant maw of the king. You also need structure, vision and guile.

Where the nannas lack fitness and occasionally skill, we make up for it with structure, old man wiliness and nearly two decades of experience!

Plus our not so secret weapon. The ultimate goal stopper, the firewall, the Gillkeeper. The keeper of the gill! Sucking oxygen from the atmosphere, the mighty gill feeds its own need for oxygen while depriving the lungs of the enemy. And snuffing out their attacking firepower.

It’s supernatural. The enemy lines up a shot, smashes it in, perfectly weighted, perfectly placed. It is surely unstoppable. No human could stop that ball. But then. Dah duh-duh-duh! The Gill wobble- stretch-leaps like a jellyfish-spider-leopard in all its glory scrubbing the ball from its velocious trajectory and then landing teddy bear like, angelic, in a louche resting pose and patting said ball affectionately and with great pride, a genial smile warmly spreading across his face like the feel of urine in your own pants.

Meanwhile, the anger and frustration cracked the manly masks of the chinos leaving them whimpering and subsiding into pre school paddies and bitter “not fair”s and anguished “that shoulda gone in”s.

A draw! A mighty draw!

18-01-18 Finals Match report (part 1)

Att: JH, RH, TH, AW (Coach)

Nannas 0 plays Bens Babes 25 +

My day was spent at work, publishing web pages, dealing with staff and trying to walk back the Nannas from their rage over perceived poor treatment by Joel. It was an interesting conversation. According to some, the Nannas had been wronged, and the only course open to them was their continued anger and hatred toward their persecutor.
Note: those who felt most aggrieved felt themselves most justified in their position.

Before that we had spent the best part of the week trying to get subs, ring ins, pinch hitters, deputies, old friends, new friends, our kids, players from the opposing team but no one would come to our aid. And so it came to pass that for the first time in the history of the Nannas were a paltry three for a final. Of those we did have not all of us were of sound constitution—the Captain having contracted a virus of the intestinal variety in Vietnam.
Note: the Breaking of Nanna by-law #56 was almost as bad as the now infamous Chasm incident.

It was hot, damn hot. The mercury was well in excess of 40 degree c. The stadium had exhaust fans in full operation but that only brought down the temp to something in the 35–40 range.

We were able to draft in the ref to play in goals for us but he knew as we all did that we were a shadow of our former selves and nothing would prevent the pounding we were about to endure. And so it proved. The opposition had a good seven players, of which they made full made of, and of which they used to excellent effect. They had the ball, they had control, and from a couple of minutes in they had put at least five past us.
Note: the ref stopped tallying the goals only a few minutes into the game, so it is impossible to tell how many they got.

At around the mid-point of the first half, Tom’s mate, Pat, decided, in his mercy, to join our team. It did give us parity in terms of our numbers but it didn’t really help. Pat ran with us, he tried to pass to us, he occasionally took the ball off an opponent and while all of this did help, it really wasn’t ever going to affect the final result.

As the match wore on, and they put more goals past us, they become more and more confident, and we drained our energy and sweat until we had nothing left. Whereas in the first half, we put the occasional pass together, and had a shot or two on goal, in the second stanza all we could do was try not to lose the ball, but when we did the result was the back of our net bulging again and again.
Note: it’s hard to run when you’re hot, out of breath and the opposition is giving you a towelling; it can be even harder when, like the Captain, you’re recovering from severe gastro-intestinal upheaval.

In the end, it was a killing but an honourable one. We brave three were thanked by the opposition for turning up, even though we only had slightly better than half a team.
Note: according to the Coach, Bens Babes hate our guts, and want to do us harm, but on this evening it could be said that we gained their (grudging) respect.

After, we went to the Retreat, and Captain immediately began the rehydration process with pint after of pint of sugar laden drinks, water and the odd beer.
Note: the Captain did look particularly unwell mid-point through the second half.

We did return to the subject of Joel, well, I did. It was pointed out to me that Joel should have more attentive in his referring. I did try to say that this point should have been made calmly but firmly to Joel in the aftermath of the game, and if it wasn’t heeded it should be raised with his supervisor.
Note: the Nannas never really thought of this, which is somewhat surprising.

I then informed the Nannas that in the aftermath of that game they were now considered bullies, and their behaviour had caused anxiety and mental unrest.
Note: beware the GRUMPY NANNA.

MATCH REPORT 2017_12_14

vs RMIT

2-5 Loss

RH (capt) , AW, TK, TH (1 goal),  CG (1 goal), TW

I got there really early thinking that it was a 8:20pm match. As the half time finished I was thinkning it was full time and that I had been abondoned by all the nannas. I was frantic. Walking around like a stunned funk apostle. It wasnt until Joel told me it was half time that I realised the Nannas would never let me down. THis was the last time Joel was nice to the nannas that night.

It was a weird night. All of a sudden Tao turns up like a legend even though he was dead for all money on the flurry. Always a nice surprise to see a sneaky nanna turnt up. We gathered before the match. INstead of passing the ball around, we collected in the goal mouth and talked tactics. We faced a team of 10 very fast kids all under 20. We were wide eyed with THE FEAR. Don’t run we were saying, pass it around, save our strength, get ready! Instead the Nannas came out of the blocks like Peter North after a run.

THe level of heat on the court was intense. The nannas were right up in their chris Grill. I have never seem such brown furvour for many a year. The whole team were on fire. Tom got the first with a parry, then I cracked a long bomb (first in a while). We were two nil up at half time. INSANE. One of the heaviest halves I’ve seen in brown. All I can say is that it was an old hairy David versus a very young Goliath.

Then Joel comes back into the story. Their keeper tries to stop a ball but slides over a meter out of bounds, handling the ball as their last player to goal. Clear penalty. We all yell at Joel, who is off on the side talking to his friend and he MISSES the WHOLE INCIDENT. He calls play on as he didn’t see it. We yell madly and play goes on for them to score a goal against the tide. And what an old tide it was.

Then they got another, and another and another annnnnnd another. Oh and one more. We were broken. NOT HAPPY JAN. But we were not done for yet. Whilst their guy with a head knott top bun thing was shifting his game up several levels, we still shut him down.

Then Thomas is in an altication. As he remembers it a guy was running blindly backward towards him. He crosses himself with his arms to protect his body / head from the impending clash of the titans. THen guy connects with the coach. He goes down. The Coach is intact and relaxed. The guy on the sideline tells Joel that Thomas shanked a guy, then Joel asks Tom to sub off or get a red card. The Coach chooses red.

THe nannas are down but not out. Whilst they shoot, we parry. They attack and we hold crazy firm. We cannot bridge the gap. It is a bridge too far. THe Nannas go down.

Post match the Nannas are in fine voice, After shaking with RMIT and congratulating them we let Joel know that definitely fucking a Nanna in Tasmania might get you a prison sentence, but doing it on the court in Brunswick apparantly aint no thang.

It turns out that Tom shook hands with Joel after the match proving to us all that a Nanna with a brown heart is a Nanna indeed. We changed outside in the cool night air. So unhappy. It was interesting to see Andy Wong, the coolest of all Nannas be as Angry as Tao has ever been.

Brown Fury.

Then we step to the new Joe’s. I foolishly say to Tom, WOW, its amazing that none of us Nannas ever get injured….. Within 5 minutes Rhian picks up Quad tightness. Just out of the blue.

It was not a brown night.

Match Report 2017_11_16

vs The Heathens

8-3 Victory

CB 2, DC 2, JH 2, TH 1, AW, CG (1 goal opp late)

 

A powerful and beautiful display by the dreamy Nannas. All bedecked in splendid matching brown. Looking every inch the team in their well considered silky matching vestments.

The opposition a rag tag bunch in sweat stained mismatched cotton T shirts and heaving with piercings and body paint and other barbarian adornments.

If you had been there to witness the competitive gnashing of teeth and the humidity that infused this vespertine display, dear reader, you may well have needed a long, cool post prandial shower in order to recalibrate your skittish personal thermostat.

Image result for roman legions

 

Match Report 2017_10_19

vs Lieutenants

lost 2-4

CB, DC 1, CG 1, TW, AW, TK, RH, TH
MOM: CB/DC

The Lieutenants are at the top off the table but we gave them a pretty good run for their money.

In French, the word Lieutenant means place holder. That is, the person who stands in for the captain. The English pronounce it “Leftenant” because they want to distinguish themselves from the French. While the Americans pronounce it “Lootenant” which is actually closer to the French pronunciation.

But. What do I remember from the game? I remember Kondo doing a lot of powerful running. I remember Cocky scoring a phenomenal goal. Oblique angle and slotted like he really meant it. Even the ref was seen nodding his head appreciatively. I remember Gilly scoring a goal. He threw the ball down the court and their keeper tried to pick it up but it snaked between his legs and into the back of the net.

I remember feeling like I had burnt through my fuel, cracked into the reserve tank and then burnt through that. I had to go and open the external door to let some cool breeze onto my overheated system. Then I had to crush up little bits of my soul into pellets and burn those.

I would have been happy to not go on for the last two minutes and let Rhian stay on. But Coach was yelling at me to get on. And so I did.

Tao got a stitch too. So we must have been really pushing it.

I was walking through Docklands this week on Wednesday when I saw a familiar burly chest heading towards me. It was the burly chested guy from Dynamo. We both slowed, recognising each other. I knew he was. He was struggling. Thrust his hand at me and I shook it. “Jarrod” he said. “Soccer” I said. “The Nannas”. And kept walking. Didn’t give him my name.

After the game we took it to Uncle Joe’s. We got the booth. They were serving some archived remnants of Four Pines before they sold out to some big tax avoiding shareholder corporation. It was tasty. And the vibes were good. I remember a lot of laughing. And a lot of advice for Self Help. Gilly was in fine form.

Peace out and keep avoiding massive bolide collisions.

ps. Ok. I have just looked at Cocky’s match report and he reckons we scored three and that I got one of them. Mmm. Wish I could remember.

pps. And Tommy played! Funny, I only remember him coaching. No offence Tommy. I think I mixed some memory tinder into my soul fuel pellets.

ppps. Did anyone see the SBS show on extraordinary people? There is a woman who can remember the details of every day of her life. That would be handy.

postbox match report 19 October 2017

 

19 October 2017, 8:40pm

 

3-4 v Lieutenants

 

DC (1,mom), CG (1), CB (1,mom), RGH, TH, TW, TK, AW

 

the postbox game. like much of the postbox week it’s all a bit of a blur. we played well though and only lacked a touch of luck in front of goal. Coach was doing more yelling than Tao but thankfully didn’t use any gifs on court. Unfortunately, at one point he was so busy yelling Coach failed to realise a tap-in had been put on plate directly in front of him, oh well. Giller really stepped up his distribution with some delightfully weighted throw/pushes (and also, according to shazza, did some equally delightful “cat” jumps). Wal turned up seconds before kickoff and is now watching whales in Byron Bay as only a truly gifted life coach can. sharon kicked a goal ( i think ?) and looked a bit puffed at halftime, rhian, takeshi and the author did some stuff like kicking the ball and running. Tao did do some yelling but not as much as the Coach (and may possibly have scored the goal that I’ve attributed to sharon). Finally, Jim ruined it all by not turning up, something about jizz in his eye… or was it on his shoulders ?

 

After the game we went to uncle joe’s wherein much hilarity issued. chatling drank more beer in the hour we were at joe’s than in the entire beach box, and unsurprisingly had a much better time. giller and coach resorted to the analog voter at which point giller turned into Brian Epstein schooling Self Help on the most efficacious means by which to launch an EP. more laughing and then we went home.

 

Harvey Weinstein is going down. Trump is hyper normally arguing with dead soldier’s widows. Turnbull says the NBN was a mistake but blamed labor while unveiling the coalition’s first attempt at an energy policy in 4 years. half the Nannas have seen Bladerunner V2.0 and a few have finished WestWorld. Do we really think, do we really have memories ? Syrian babies are heartbreakingly starving to death and a bear in Myanmar had its 3kg tongue removed in the midst of the rohingya ethnic cleansing. Incredibly Officeworks honours it’s “lowest price guarantee” on items available online from the book depository, making a plain softcover large moleskine notebook less than half price. The arid garden at the royal botanic gardens is no longer replacing cacti due to theft and the pork rolls from the bot cafe are shit. Leroy Sane is the man and Man City are absolutely monstering the premier league.

what is real ?

nana_masks_tall_small

 

MATCH REPORT 2017_10_12

Vs  Dynamo Tehran

4-3 Win

TK, RH (1), CG (G), CB (1), AW (1(MOM)), TW (1(MOM))

What a game to return to. After trekking the jungles of Sumatra and Malaysia in search of volcanos, baby elephants and orang-utans , whilst fighting off gangrene, ross river fever, etc, it was amazing to come back to the open arms of the Nanna’s and play an awesome game against one of longest lasting adversaries.

The game started off a little shaky even though we got the first goal. By half time we were a goal down.

After a little pep talk from the captain, and of course from the goalie, we came out with a little extra in the tank and managed to find the back of the net 3 more times whilst holding our opposition back enough only allowing them one more goal in the second half.

Big win for the Nanna’s and a great first game back after 5 weeks.

Then, after only 2 days back in the country there I am preparing to go away for some serious BBP with the brethren. What a week, what a weekend. Still glad I didn’t go for a swim in the middle of the night.

Match Report – 14 September

By way of introduction (and making up for reports unloaded), it was a very proud dad-moment to play on the pitch with my offspring, Izzy. It was something I’ve been dreaming of, hoping for that father-son-game-crossover before that dirty R-word (retirement) which must be fast approaching. So there we were, Izzy had rocked up to watch the game and unbeknownst to me he had his Nanna top on under his hoodie. Once this became apparent some general cajoling ensured from the surrounding huddle of nanna seniors. And next thing we know we got a 11 year old on the court (and 7 months). He’s been finessing his skills since very young. Soccer is pretty much his entire waking focus; six games a week, indoor, outdoor plus lunchtimes. With greater fitness and ball skills than my own, the Nanna’s succession plan is well and truly underway. It was a super special moment to play together. I nearly shed a tear of joy. There’s much that he hasn’t mentioned in his report, mostly of his pure excitement in playing and inclusion into the game, but I’ve left it raw as his version of events.

From Izzy below:

My first game for the Nannas… and I scored! I think the dark chocolate and the juggling outside helped me to prepare for the game, I didn’t actually know I was playing until the last few minutes when Andy noticed I was wearing the kit.

Chazzy scored a hatrick, one of them Dan rolled it back and Chazzy smashed into the net, left footer. My goal was in the bottom right corner and the goalkeeper just got a touch on it but then it rolled past him and in, I also had another chance were I ran it up and then shot but it hit the post and rolled out behind the keeper. The other goal was scored by where I nutmegged the defender and finished it off bottom left. The end scores were 7-3 our way, WE WON!!!

After the game we went to LaxaKing for dinner, ( I didn’t have any because I had already had tacos before the game ), I ordered a lemon lime bitters and Chris gave me some of his tea, Andy and I tried counting how many people worked there and we figured out there was about 40.

Match Report 2017_09_07

vs Harchester United 2-4 loss

TK, TW 1, CB 1, SB, TK, JH

Mom: SB

It was an exciting and fun experience and I had lots of fun. They were pretty chunky and big but I didn’t get bashed up too much. It was a pretty intense day because I didn’t have school cause of district athletics and then I had soccer training where we played against the under fourteens (lu’s team) and then I played for the Nannas.
Tao and Chazzy got the goals. They were both quality goals. Gillie did some great saves and was unlucky when they went in.
The squad on Thursday was;
Tao, Sol, Gillie, Chazzy, Jim and last but not least Kondo. After the match I got a steak and pepper pie from the seven eleven and it was bloody five bucks. It was revolting and had lots of fat and not much meat, I had mustard with it. Huge mistake, it made it even worse than it already was.
Kondo got shoved from one of the biggest dudes. They were really rough, fortunately they weren’t rough on me thank god. Kondo had a bit of a swollen knee. (By Solomon)

Match Report: 22 June 2017

Attendees: JH (MOM), AW (MOM), TW (MOM), Headmaster James (HJ), Joel

Nannas 5 plays Alberto Melasani FC 5

Two days before my birthday (f#ck you all) and the Nannas all decided that this would be a good week to not play. This happens sometimes when everyone has something on and we are left scrambling to find ringers (to be noted: a couple of Nannas disappeared off the face of the earth after signalling their non-playing intentions; this surprised some Nannas, Tao especially).
So, we thought we had a team with Chas and Guido saying they could join the fray but Chassy did the classic I’m out, no, I’m in, no, I’m out, move (the legend of the enigmatic Chassy continues to grow), while Guido rang me about two hours prior the game saying he had to fly to Brazil the next day and wasn’t going to make it.
So I texted Phil, who said he could come but then didn’t show up. Luckily Joel could deputise but when we got on court he didn’t really play that much. He said it wouldn’t be fair if he played to his full ability (or some shit like that), so he hung out on court, didn’t man up and was more a link man than anything else. To be reasonable, he did pull out a move or two and scored a goal so I can’t diss him too much but we would have creamed them if he had tried (so probably best not to get him again).
I was in goals for the first three quarters of the match and this is what I clearly recollect from that time:
1. There was some very sweet passing and movement, and Tao hit almost the perfect goal after essentially the ideal lead up. I threw it to him standing just on the other side of half way. He laid it off to Andy, who drew in a defender and then passed it back to Tao. Tao had space so he hit it with the outside of the toe. It swerved wickedly from left to right. The keeper had no chance.
2. While we were effervescent in attack, our defence was close to the opposite. There were at least a dozen times when they streamed forward with not a brown player between them and me (I know how Gilla feels). Surprisingly, I did save quite a lot after getting a few early shots hit straight at me (which made me mad but also gave me confidence) but couldn’t get everything.
Then I came out of goals and HJ went in. HJ was as good in goals as he was on court (which was in every way noble and upstanding, befitting a man of his stature and employ); I am pretty sure he didn’t let any in and if it were up to me he would be first choice sub (even though when he wasn’t in goals he missed two or three sitters from directly in front in true Jim Hannan style).
Anyway, I thought we were in front 5-4 when I came out of goals, and not long after, after a bit of a goal-mouth scrap, I put one away. Obviously I didn’t look at the scoreboard but it was 5-5, instead of 6-4 (like I thought).
Anyway, that’s how it ended up, except for one punk talking shit about Gilla after the bell. These guys could be our new arch enemies, and what’s more we can beat them easily (if we were to pull a full-strength team together).
Afterward, we went to our new clubhouse and talked of babies, absent Nannas, flying overseas and trips to the snow (and obviously, I was the tallest one there).