All posts by striker

Match Report – 28 September 2023

3-2 v Dynamo Tehran

CB, SB (1), DC (2, MOM), CG, AW, TW (Ass)

Jim, all swagger and bravado, until the heavy yoke of domestic duty thwarts his unrealistic ambitions, yet again, leaving the nannas high and dry like a 13 year old virgin at a blue light disco. And Mo, having his hair cut especially for the Nannas but unable to adjust quick enough to changing circumstances, leaving the Nannas in the lurch, like a prehistoric reptile standing up his fresh faced young (yet in fact much older) mammalian date. Which left only five THONs (plus one ass Coach who is also technically a THON). It’s always slightly daunting, the tight five, 36 minutes of running without respite, but it also brings a coherence to the Nannas game which has certainly been lacking in some recent ring-in-heavy games. Also in the pros column fro the match was the opposition, our old buddies Dynamo Tehran, also well into the masters division and known for being physical but without any fuckery. And so to it… about 10 seconds in I had very pointy weasley  elbow to the ribs from a Tehranian in a yellow shirt I didn’t recognise, what the? And then a little guy in tight shorts who I wasn’t sure I recognised either was doing a lot turbo bustling. He wasn’t without foot skills,  or a turn of pace, but he was also quite keen on the mustelid elbows – fuck off mate –  and put them 1 up early into the half. The Nannas were pacing themselves and putting together some nice passes, but little white shirt was harrying like some kind of terrier which was annoying as hell. The Nannas were getting fractious, Sol had to remind Dj Renkin Penis that receiving advice on dealing with a situation whilst the situation is still live is never really appreciated. I’m pretty sure I have yet another ABI after heading a long ball (from a pretty decent goalie throw, nice one giller) , it would probably behove the Nannas to cease all headers from here on out… just saying… dementia and shit, you know. In any case, the Nannas started working their way into the game. Sol got us level with some sweet approach work and swept finish, then the MOM tucked away two tidy toe pokes. The Toe Poke eh, it is so maligned, the desperate stab of the technically ungifted, but when it works, hell it can really generate some pace in a tight spot, there’s also a lot to be said for the lack of rotation required in an old leg dubiously rigged with tendons nearing their expiry dates. All was looking pretty good at 3-1. Our defence was holding firm. Giller put in some amazing stops, as is his want, including a double stop the second of which was performed sitting on the floor, arms perfectly raised above his head, like some kind of goalie yoga. Andy had misplaced his kit so was trialling a new away strip of navy shorts (very fetching, note to the kit design committee) and putting in some very sweet raking cross court switch balls, though he did miss a gilt edge sodomites chance at the back post early on. Tao = Ass Coach = THON = freaking legend who comes to games even when injured because he loves the Nannas. And finally back to Chasbenis, perhaps the talking point of the game, which I actually failed to witness… the little white shirted terrier (who, it turns out, had a massive Conor McGregor full chest tattoo so may actually be an MMA pipe hitter) apprently , according to the Lady Chastity, tried to dislocate her arm, matters were taken into their own hands and a yellow card was issued to No. Brown upon which was remarked by the Son of Brown , ‘geez mate, you should practice what you preach”…. Burn. anyway. They got another, we won 3-2. We went to the Taco Truck for tacos because Giller still hates the Union (but still hasn’t found somewhere else to eat) the tacos were pretty good, especially the bonus chips and guac. Finding out that Four Tet was playing in Melbourne and we weren’t there was kind of a RIP but Andy hosted a most excellent fireside soiree on the way home complete with mini magnums and glowing green solar battery control panel lighting. ABKIT!

Timestamp: the world continues to fvck out, Gippsland has bush fires AND flooding, at the same time! and the No campaign and their atlas network advisory fvcks are looking terrifyingly close to winning, racist muthafvckers!… but it isn’t all bad , Collingwood won the Granny.

match report 13 July 2023

the lamest match report ever.

Tao scored a header

Chasby slotted one into teh top right corner

The author scored 4, for the third week in a row.  Thers a geometric metaphor in there soemwhere and I was going to draw a picture to illustrate but didn’t.


but suffuce to say we schooled some very fast young students, which is alwasy pleasing for a bunch of greay haired middle aged old men.



match report – 7 July 2023

“To meet violence with violence is to play to your opponent’s
strong point and your own weak point.”
Hanan Ashrawi 2004

A trio of Crooks stole the show with some sublime interplay, movement and finishing. The real miscreants, though, were the three opponents who took so badly to being plundered that they physically attacked our two teenage players!

Owing to the difficulties of navigating a busy Glenlyon Rd on the long journey from East Brunswick to Brunswick your correspondent missed Lu’s apparently excellent opening goal. The scores were at 1-1 and the game tight when I arrived. A few ‘robust’ challenges from Gilla gave the opposition a couple of set-piece opportunities but all the silky stuff was from the gowns of brown. Sebastian, the fill-in, had two lovely feet and combined marvellously with Elliot, Lu and Cocky twice to put the Nanna’s into a 3-1 lead and in the ascendancy.

With around 4 minutes left of the first half, another tasty passing movement led to Lu being one-on-one with their goalkeeper. As he was in the process of going around him, the keeper grabbed his hips, pulled him to the ground and held him down. Clear penalty. Elliot ran over to remonstrate with the goalkeeper about the foul on his younger brother.

I think we were all aghast and dumbfounded by what followed. The goalkeeper pushed Elliot over and took a swing at him. A second player grabbed Lu by the throat, forcefully. Cocky rushed in to extricate his boys from the melee, quickly followed by Gilla as peace envoy. Quite how three of their players were seething with rage and apparently indignant with the injustice of the situation was utterly incomprehensible.

The young referee then in charge of the game offered little control of the situation. The fella with the chest like the Heidelberg Tun must have heard the commotion as he came over from the other pitch. To restore some calm and order he suggested we abandon the remainder of the first half and persuaded the opposition to play on for the second. Yes, somehow a few of them didn’t want to play on! No penalty was taken. No red card.

And, breathe…

Thankfully, the passing and movement from the Nannas scaled new heights in the second half. A controlled left footed volley from Cocky – in off the near post from an insouciant chipped pass from Lu which followed earlier good work from Elliot – was a particular highlight of six second half goals. There were even a couple of cheeky goals from me. I think talk of how good they were had already gotten out of hand by the time we got to the pub. Thankfully some footage has emerged of them (here and here ) so you can judge for yourself.

And so, to the Union where Elliot and Lu were being encouraged to reflect on the pitfalls of violence by not only leur pere and the other Nannas, but also Miri and the sage advice of their Grandparents who had also witnessed it all. A debrief, and an attempt to piece together how any of that had happened, seemed necessary. If anything, it became more baffling as apparently the opponents (approx. 10 years younger than the average first generation Nanna) are apparently fathers to young families! Also, all the stories we swapped of the individual reactions we witnessed confirmed that they largely remained angry and in denial of any wrongdoing throughout the match.

The Nannas schooled the Bad Dads on the pitch but the bigger lesson for all of us was in the triumph of non-violence. Peace, love and the jogo bonito, people.



report by James Mercer

Nannas 9 – Bad Dads 2
JM 2 (MOM), LC 2, EC 1, DC 4, CG (GK), Sebastian the courtside ring-in

The Last Ever Match Report ?! 11th March 2020

3-11 v Harchester
DC(2,M),CG, TK, TW, SJG (1)

So that was that, possibly the last game the Nannas ever play. On Thursday it was all elbow bumps and half jokes about who would be struck down first. Joel assured me kicking goals was the best way to fight off a virus. The main concern at that point was Rhian and Chassy yet again prioritising their weekly date night over a commitment to their brother Nannas. Adding insult to injury was the Captains gas-lighting claim to have contacted Guido as a ring-in. Turns out he had been lining up a bi-twin with “Guido” in Geelong… “if you’re available ?”. But at least he made an effort, unlike the the other members of upper management who were just palming out lobsters and graceless facials. Giller on the other hand got nude in public for the Nannas, well, he got changed during a live broadcast ( the sound of his underpants and what lies beneath only mm from the mic ) in order to make it to the game. Kondo was there, Tao was there, and so was Si, the most dedicated of ring-ins. 5 True Heros of Nanna against the green hooped celtic foes of old, Harchester. It wasn’t a great game but at least we kept our pants on, 2 goals from corners and a third near the end was some small quantam of solace. After the game Giller, Kondo and I went to Miss Moses for some live funk ( careful not to touch anything, apart from ‘touching it”, obviously) and the partook of the perfect post match beverage (when you’re not drinking alcohol, like an idiot (except giller, who is not an idiot))); a lemon, lime &  bitters but with half lemonade/half soda, not too sweet, not too austere, perfect. I then finished the night with a falafel from Very Good Falafel , which was slightly crazy given I’d already had a falafel pita for lunch, but it was, as the name would suggest, very good – super crunchy without being serrated, and excellent use of jalapenos…

But what now ? The novel corana virus Covid 19 (or “the Chinese Virus” as the hopefully-soon-to-be-dead-from-it POTUS prefers) is cutting a path of destruction through the world. As at Wednesday 18 ASPIC is still open for business, but the Nannas won’t be there and its hard to guess when they will return. Is this (SARS x10) + the stock-market crash of ’87 + (the GFC x3) ? or is it the Spanish flu meets the Great Depression or is it The Walking Dead meets the Road ? Should the nannas be activating their long hatched climate apocalypse plans to hijack a Russian nuclear icebreaker and head for the oceanic hills? should they just be kicking back at home riding it out, gardening, reading great novels and playing parlor games with their just-a-joy-to-be-with teenagers, should they be scouring the internet for expert analysis and insight from religious american internet startup tech bros with all the numbers “just crunching the math”… or is it actually time to push on with that long-postponed opium addiction and just chill the freaking hell out !! who knows. crazy times.

Time Stamp: 1:40pm 18 Mar 2020:
199574 Confirmed Cases
7975 Deaths

Match Report Nov 21 2019

6-9 v 6 guys 1 Cup – Mt Alexander College (no Dolan)
CB(2), DC(4,m), CG, JH, RH, TH, TK, TW

A rare and precious thing, 2 subs and not a ring-in to be seen… so it was on this day of crazy weather. 39 degrees and winds that were blowing large trees almost flat to the ground. The captain mused that it’s what you’d expect if the devil was put in charge of the weather. Not only was Beelzebub at wheel with infernal heater but s/he switched it up hitting the air-con mid afternoon with a cool change (and more wind, fans still on high) just to further add to overall the sense of impending climatic doom… ScuMo, eat a massive bag of salted dicks you preposterously massive fuck !


We were 6 brown (actually white cis hetero) men warming up on the ancient and glorious (yet now confusingly non-blue) wooden floorboards of the Mt Alexander College gymnasium when we were greeted by the pleasant and unheralded arrival of Mr Weis from the adlands or east gippsland. The warm up continued; long passing, short passing, 1 touch, shots on goal, a spot of ‘the old hack’, yet no sight of the opposition was to be had. Stan hobbled around the court like a 90 yr old, the warm up continued and finally a bunch of smooth faced 17yr olds in purple tops arrived. And so to kickoff.

The Nannas were up for it. The youth may not have had much in the way of facial hair or bitter life experience but they had foot skills and pace to spare. But the nannas were rightly fortified by their collective, nearly 20 years of hive mind thinking, 2 decades of communal mental and physical labour… and that warm up.

By halftime we were 4-1 up. Goals: from a ‘stuppashin’, a free kick and some great setpieces (kind of ) Nannas running onto perfectly placed corner kicks… it was looking good. Then they swapped up their goalie at halftime and shit went downhill, fast. ah well. It was a freaking good game and the Nannas were totally boss !

Aprés Kondo suggested a malaysian joint and ordered up a storm (even without the Beef Rendang) the only downer was the warm beers… Then we headed to Joe’s on the off chance that Wal might take a break from blowing smoke up our collective hive arse, which he did, which was awesome! As we headed into the night the authors resolve, weakened by that last pint, finally evaporated and he inveigled his way into Liz Smileys tin of funk, barebacking little brassy in a high street alcove. Suitably elevated it was then on to ‘Top Shelf’ for single malts and self deluded Javascript insights… oh sweet Object, how much I love, yet how little I understand thee…

Fuck Scott Morrison, you dick !!!

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

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 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.

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 – 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.

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.

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 ?



Match Report 15 Jun 2017 – Return of the Pits


write(String.fromCharCode(0x2571 + Math.round(Math.random())))
10 PRINT CHR$ (205.5 + RND (1)); : GOTO 10

– – – –

4-5 v Harchester – CB,DC,CG,JH,RH,TK,TW
one car drove. pits weirdly dejavu. should have won but lost instead. chief after, more dejavu. chassy got high. tao = northside driving legend. self help demo in car on way home.

– – – –


Match Report – 11 May 2017 – While you were sleeping

8:40 versus Lieutenants
CB 1m, DC 2m, RH 1, TH, TK, AW 1 – (highly unsure of the actual goal tally)

The mercury has really dropped recently, which makes the dedication of the Coach® and the author to their on-going controlled experiment even more remarkable. I swear the temperature in the Merri Creek Valley was close to zero as our intrepid cyclists made their way to Brunswick (perversely riding within meters of the skippers house en route).

Much like last week kick off was again meet almost immediately with weirdness. This time in the form of Joel – aka Little Ref – informing our opposition that they were on the wrong court… that was a first. They departed and the Nannas, who until that point had been playing rather well, were left standing around the court looking rather confused (the author even more confused due to the bewildering effects of the controlled experiment was prompted to question if in fact it was actually happening in actual reality). Eventually another team was found who appeared half familiar but at the same time kind of cobbled together. Weird. Needless to say we’d really had our flow fucked with. Now, we’ve played these guys (or most of them) many times before and one thing that is really noticeable is that they really don’t like to smile much, if at all. Anyway, it was a curious game in that we actually played quite well, stringing together some really nice moves, especially passing around the back (with some tasteful touches from Takeshi in goal), but we lost really badly, shipping 9 goals in the process ? how the hell did that happen. I was clearly to blame for one of them, I swear there was no way the guy could control this crazy goalie looping punt… but he did. The Coach was also to blame for a couple of not-following-your-man-as-he-runs-in-a-little-circle-doing-a-1-2-in-the-box-before-shooting goals. So perhaps the Skipper is right in proposing that the GHBG is good for attack and not so good for defence… could be something in that… maybe… possibly. Speaking of attack, we did score a couple of nice ones, I almost karate kicked their goalie in the face to get a mega cross court switch ball from von Martinadale III. There were also an inordinate amount of goal-mouth scuffles which we never quite able to convert. I should also mention that there was some rather unsavoury off-the-ball action when one of the opposition blatantly elbowed the author in the ribs ? apparently this was in retaliation for some perceived injustice earlier in the game. Moments later the same perpetrator, having been bested in a 50/50 ball proceeded to hack wildly at the authors legs as he made off with the ball, fortunately for the authors bodily well being he had transitioned into a kind of flux state where the hacker had become more a tricky piece of terrain to navigate while skiing or mountain biking than a human, a kind of terramophism if you will, which the author successfully avoided whilst involuntarily emitting a whoop of glee…

Anyway, the score did most certainly not reflect the game. poohs.

Afterward we went to Mr Wilkins and were regaled with tales of a young von Martindale III’s late night adventures in prophylactic procurement before being joined by Gillman du Brassy for an entirely wholesome game of Jenga (which the Coach lost). Pints of Steam Ale (and some unmentionable lager) were consumed and talk turned to the backdated bucks party that Jim would be needing having gone and got hitched in the Big Apple whilst on a research Junket for Cory Bernadi’s new conservative party for whom he will be shortly announcing his appointment as press secretary. The Nannas then spent the rest of the evening thinking of words that rhyme with Cory… story, allegory, Montessori…



p.s. what is that in Jim’s hand ?

jims wedding hand


Match Report – May 4 2017 – Weirdness


8:40 vs ?
CB (Ass), DC (M), CG, RH, TH, AW – Goals unremembered



It was a strange game – no doubt in part due to the continuing controlled experiments that the Coach and I have been performing with respect to the GHBG – but beyond that it was still strange. It may seem churlish but I feel a large part of the weirdness came from the induction of a new $ Import. Giller announced early on the flurry that we would be joined by a member of the Happy Days cast whom it would appear none of the Nannas had ever heard of. A request was made for clarification but none was forthcoming…





… eventually the identity of the “The Fonz” was deduced by someone with more advanced post graduate qualifications than those possessed by the Nannas – but that didn’t stop the weirdness. In fact right from the kickoff it was crazy, Giller let though a soft shot from distance that he would normally have stopped with his eyes closed using only sonic resonance imaging. Perhaps it was the startlingly novel pre-game tactics talk (or perhaps it was only startling to the bewildered test subject) or perhaps it was some kind of professional colleague performance anxiety situation, who can say. Pretty soon the Nannas were further down. It’s rather ungenerous to blame the $ Import for our defensive lapses, especially in the light of their super tight aerial skills and approach play, and I’m sure the Nannas would generally be quicker to blame the controlled experiment in these instances but on a couple of occasions the Nannas-standard-defence-mode of man marking rather came apart at the seams and we shipped another couple of super soft goals. On the upside we did also score a couple of nice ones (though I can’t recall exactly by whom at this late date). On a double thumbs upside we were joined just before halftime by ASS COACH Chasbian Chico von Martingale III shooting plasma from his chode*. On the downside we still lost.

Afterward we went to Howler and drank some superfine beers** (after being ignored by the very Dutch-like-in-aloof -service-manner-but-unDutch-in-general-compentance bar staff) but unfortunately those Nannas outside of the cone of the controlled experiment had to scurry off home inexplicably, leaving only the Coach and I to work on the furtherment of the Nanna project. Following a mandatory GHAG and supplementary beer there ensued much discussion of politics, technology and speculation of a sci-fi nature. It was also proposed by the author that the Nannas should start an Erudite Conversation Club™ wherein the Nannas partake of high quality single malt libations and discuss a mooted topic as intelligently and articulately as they can… stay tuned.

* Cannibal Corpse
** Brooklyn Breweries East India Pale Ale + Fury Road IPA

Match report – 9 Mar 2017 – by Elliot

6-1 v Dynamo Tehran, Brunswick
DC 1, EC 1M, RH 2, JH 2, AW, CG, CB, (TH late ass coach)



Twas’ the hot summer evening of March the 9th, but it was no ordinary night because this night was a Thursday night. A furious battle between good and evil, light and dark, old men and a boy vs more old men, in the age old game of futsal. The game started off  by a fault of mine in defence leading to the Nannas being set back one to nil. Things started looking up in the second half as the Nannas started pounding goals into the back of the net. From the side line the squad looked like a wall of fear crushing the enemies hearts and destroying their dignity and pride. There was no way they will ever come back from this crushing loss of six to one. They left the grounds with their heads down and tears welling up in the corners of their eyes. After we had hammered in our first three goals all the opposition could do was stare dumbfounded at our awesome magnificence. The Captain as well as Jim getting two goals and Le Coq and his son put away one each. To sum it up, two words, TOTAL ANNIHILATION. We then headed to an excellent Korean barbecue place going by the name of Wooga.

Match Report – 10 Nov 2016 – On Winning & Haircuts



DC 3 mom, CG, JH 1, RH, TH, TK, TW 2, AW
6-2 | 6:40pm v Nunan Street Boys | Brunswick secondary

This week it was all about winning for the Nannas™. Not the sociopathic, narcissistic, megalomaniacal, misogynist, racist, bullying and xenophobic kind of winning where you openly cheat and grab the ref by the pussy. No, the Nannas™ left that kind of winning to someone else*. Instead the Nannas™ stepped from the court with the kind of win that leaves a warm fuzzy glow in your socks and a pleasant lactic aftertaste in the mouth.

We went behind early on but came back with a peach of a volley from Le Coq. Wal had managed to sneak a pass through the hustling attentions of two opposition defenders, it bobbled and bounced into the left corner where he-of-possibly-the-worst-haircut-ever (and I’m not referring here to The Donald®) with his back to goal on quite can acute angle, pivoted and smacked it into the top right corner of the goal. Their goalie didn’t even move! Raucous jubilation ensued on the touchline from the sub-10 year old cheer squad. The Nannas™’ second was a tap in after some nice lead-up play from the Captain and Jimbob. At half time it was 2-2 but shortly after kick off we were back on top following some tasteful footwork from Le Coq – if he does say so himself. But there the score remained for most of the second half. They threatened a few times and the Nannas™ came close on occasion but it was entering SAF’s squeaky bum territory when Tao toe poked the-most-quickly-taken-free-kick-of-all-time through the eye of a needle near post gap and we could breathe a little easier. Jim then did something illusory with his head, it might have been his new bob haircut (putting the bob back in Jimbob) but it appeared to the author as though the ball made contact about half a meter behind Jim’s head ? either way it went in. The rout was sealed in the dying seconds by another sweet strike from Taoser.

In other notes, Kondo was imperious in defence, The coach yelled himself hoarse and Giller didn’t have much to do but did stop one cracker in the top right from very close quarters, accompanied by a sharp fleshy skin slapping noise.

There was also a rather gnarly moment in the first half when one of the opposition went down howling in agony. Literally screaming like a south american howler monkey in labour who’s had both legs blown off by an IED. A suspected dislocated knee! It looked like he was going to be ok once the dust had settled but those initial animal screams were really quite confronting… It should also be noted that late in the second half one of the opposition opined to me (shortly after one of his buddies had shoulder-barged me off the ball) that “you guy’s are the dirtiest team we’ve played”… wtf ???… anyway.

It should also be noted that the ref had a howler and quite clearly doesn’t actually know a number of the basic rules of futsal, and all the nannas yelled at me for not playing the whistle… like hashtag tots whatevs.

Afterwards we went to a new mexican joint on smith street to eat ceviche, drink corn syrup coke and postulate on exactly how much he-of-the-orange-face-and-candy-floss-hair can fuck the planet and it’s inhabitants. The general consensus was to quite a fair degree !

The only consolation in this otherwise profoundly depressing election was the widespread legalisation of university cigarettes.

*you should be very, very careful of what even only a the tiniest little part of you wishes for.



Match Report 26 Oct 2016


i know, i know. I’ve forgotten everything. I almost forgot the most outrageous near goal ever. author passes to captain, it’s a bit bouncy, a bit shit, but the captain back-heel volley chips his marker, the author running through realising he’ll never control it opts instead for the flying volley see RvP circa ’06 , and holy shit Jay, it almost went in, cue random bystanders losing their minds… ah well.

datestamp: Monday 7 November, tomorrow is the US election and the world teeters on the edge of a freaking apocalypse. I know it’s wrong but there’s a very small and perverse part of me that wants to see what happens when Drumpf is elected and late capitalism finally gets what it deserves… i know, i know.

match report 2 June 2016

v some newbies @ brunswick
dc(4,m), tw, rh(m), cg(m), ring-in Nif(1,m), ring-in Elliot C(1,m)

ah yes, the match report written over a week after the fact, always difficult. It was a 5 way MOM so I suppose all 5 MOMS figured at least one of the others would scribe a report, figure again foolish suckers… Two of the other MOMs were ring-ins and the remaining two were Rhian and Giller neither of whom has written a report in at least 4 years so like that was ever going happen.
anyway I can’t really remember much apart from the Captain initiating a 1-2 drill during the warmup, the old give and go and shoot, and what do you know he and I then proceeded to score 3 goals that way during the game… I swear, priming is an extremely powerful tool. we also had a last minute random ring-in by the name of Nif, who we’ve played against a few times (notably giller winding him with a full arse slam last week) who was a welcome addition to the Team. As was Elliot, making a return to court of the nanna, and a scoring goal. Some of his tracking back left a bit to be desired ( as Tao was at pains to point out) but there was some nice footwork and a couple of very tasteful passes. err… what else.. Giller totally kept us in it at the end. We were meant to have the bus firmly parked at the back with less than a minute to go, but what do you know, 2 times they were 2 on 1 at the back, one shot went wide and the other was saved by a shoulder-meets-goal-post save from the Funky Nanna™. And of course the highlight of the entire match was the author scoring a pair of braces…
tight is right.

Match Report – 5 May 2016 – the 60% Nannas

DC 2, TW 1, JH, Andrew, Tim MOM

Well, what do you know, a match report, who would have thought eh. Like the Tasmanian Tiger, or Myspace, such things were believed to have vanished from sight a long time ago… but no, here one is before your very eyes. Generally the match report is written by that Nanna deemed most worthy by his brethren to wear the badge of MOM, but, in a grave and telling sign of the times (with a nod to Prince, RIP) it is instead being written by one not so deemed as, in fact, that honour was given to a ring-in. And not even a real ring-in, a ring-ins ring-in, someone the Nannas had never met in their lives until moments before playing. Tim, who stepped into goals in place of Phil, turned out to be pretty good, good enough to take the MOM, but surely it is something of a Nadir in the documentary history of the Nannas when the match report is itself a ringing.
So how did it come to this ? Well, it starts with the flurry and the first 6 responses being ‘out’. Not the ideal start to the new season. In fact it was a miracle that from this tidal wave of apathy 3 brown heros emerged, JH, TW, DC. Add to this Andy the ring-in with the ancient chelsea top and phil/tim the goalie and what you have is not a team but a gathering of people with fading memories of the good times they used to have when they got together on a Thursday with their friends and played futsal. Admittedly never that well or with any real skill but at least as a team… And so it went.
The first half I think saw the Nannas, or the 60% Nannas, have only a single shot on target. Midway through the 2nd half we were 7 goals to the worse. Tim was real good in goals, young and extremely enthusiastic and vocal but theres only so many one-on-ones he could stop. Then they started to run out of legs a bit, or lost interest, and the 60% Nannas managed to sneak in a couple o goals near the end. Final score 3-9, a goal to TW and a brace to DC. Which was kind of good because as we know from the economics of organic memory we only remember how long something took and how it ended.
After the game Jim pedaled off into the night and Taoser and I went to the Retreat for fish and chips and beer. Andy – the legend Walmartin – turned up for a beer and did a great job of hiding his disappointment upon discovering that only 2 nannas – the 40% Nannas – were in attendance. The three of us then proceeded to talk about the golden age of television and which television shows we had and hadn’t watched. This would have been a dead give away of how unengaged with the world and how uninteresting we were as humans but luckily no one was knitting nearby so it was OK. My lack of knowledge of High Mainataince was met with gasps of disbelief but I can safely say that i am now up to speed… Qasim,pure genius!
As for the 100% Nannas, who knows. Jim got out his death bell and started knelling it pretty loud on the forum which may or may not have lead to a vastly higher percentage of ‘ins’ this week. we’ll see. I’ve re-mooted the idea of a season pass to cover the cost of ringins and hopefully encourage a greater turnout, that seems to have gained some traction but let’s see.
In the meantime, the new 2016 kit delivery timeline took a hit when it was realised that the preferred supplier was planning to place their logo front and centre on the shirt. Donald Trump is republican candidate. Bill shorten is proving very popular in Townsville. Leicester won the premier league. I tested UHD playback for the first time on a 4K Sony TV and was extremely impressed. It’s freaking cold and Miri insists on keeping the back door open all the time.

match report 3 March 2016

2-5 v FC Dalles
Brunswick, 8.00pm
dc1m, cgm, two, rh, th, aw

The game pretty much went like this… run run run gasp stumble jog charge drop-kick punt hurtle stumble pelt trot strike pelt hurry charge hurtle punt trot scurry trot trot pant breathe heavily scurry bolt trot pelt dribble toe-poke stumble charge run hurry hoof boot rush pelt trot race interception tackle gallop jog scurry gallop miskick run pelt jog scamper scamper career stumble hurtle scurry trot stumble tear attack tackle pelt stumble dash career drop-kick gallop zip scurry rush pant rush bolt stumble career attack interception walk stumble trot scamper kick drop-kick run hurry race scurry drop-kick trot hurtle zip jog boot charge rush belt belt scurry walk zip scamper attack tear tear scurry walk challenge attack hurry stumble hurtle sprint bolt career bolt charge tackle rush hurry walk zip breathe hard pant like a dog run rush walk zip challenge attack race scamper zoom race sprint belt dart scamper kick zip hurtle hurtle charge scamper sprint race gallop drop-kick punt stumble career hurry bolt drop-kick hoof bolt pelt walk hurry strike scamper dart walk dash walk run zoom sprint challenge dart rush scamper hurtle breathe heavily rush trot jog stumble strike walk trot scurry career sprint race walk zip sprint hurtle jog tear interception trot scamper dash jog jog charge run trot hoof hoof scurry bolt tear hurtle kick hoof race scurry belt sprint drop-kick kick pelt zip scurry scamper miskick sprint walk jog scamper toe-poke rush stumble sprint zip pelt career sprint sprint run jog belt dart dribble strike belt rush hurtle race challenge tackle hurtle tear trot stumble sprint walk trot stumble toe-poke strike zip stumble rush hurry hurtle pelt dart walk pant zoom dart bolt career hurry dash bolt stumble hurry scamper pelt sprint bolt rush charge run drop-kick walk hurry race hurry scurry tear zoom belt wheeze pant bolt hurry bolt race pelt rush belt zip miskick toe-poke charge dart stumble scurry charge stumble jog pelt dribble miskick zoom sprint hurtle belt miskick dribble race zip career career jog pelt race hurtle toe-poke shoot dash scurry jog gallop gallop dash jog career hoof hoof sprint run dart pelt kick drop-kick gallop hurry trot career punt scurry tear run gallop zoom stumble gallop hurry attack tear tear zoom hurry rush sprint zip dart miskick miskick jog jog scurry career hoof boot career sprint scurry tear pelt bolt dart hurry pant wheeze sprint tear pelt dart challenge trot gallop sprint scurry miskick dart hurtle zip zoom drop-kick hoof scurry charge jog charge sprint rush scamper bolt boot dart gallop dash gallop race hurtle stumble gallop bolt zip scurry stumble huff and puff breathe heavily zip stumble trot rush breathe hard walk walk jog dash breathe heavily scamper hurtle run bolt hoof run gallop stumble zip zoom hurry run walk breathe hard breathe heavily belt rush rush hurry toe-poke rush run pelt pelt pelt race trot race punt kick stumble tear stumble scamper pant pelt trot career run tackle jog charge bolt dart breathe heavily stumble trot stumble scamper belt gallop hurry zoom block block belt zip race dash wheeze gallop zip walk gallop strike dash stumble trot hurry block challenge tear career run jog huff and puff… basically do a hell of a lot of running interspersed with gasping and the occasional shot/tackle/pass before finally stumbling from the court on the verge of a heart attack.

We then went to the Retreat for a quiet one.

Match Report 17 December 2015

//Nanna Match Report Generator
//Dec 2015

var matchStats= {
'loc':"Brunswick College",
'date':"17th Dec 2015",
'oppName':"a team who's moniker fails to materialsie at this juncture",
'apres':"a place who's name I fail to recollect"

var Tao = {
'nickName':"Best Looking",
'nickName2': "He of the purple head",
'generalPlay': "some fine play and the usual high quality hustling",
'specialMoment': "the-most-perfectly-weighted-from-a-crazy-accute-angle shot",
'anecdote': "illicited some extreme (yet very humourous) language form the opposition due to completely-justified-use-of-pushing",

var Giller = {
'nickName': "Gilby the whack arse Bilby",
'nickName2': "the Funky Nanna™",
'generalPlay': "not a whole lot of work to do, but stopped a couple of rippers",
'specialMoment': "scored a pearler (though it must be said the opposition goalie made a total hash of it)",
'anecdote': "took award for first Nanna to see JJ’s new Star Wars",

var Rhian = {
'nickName': "The Captain®",
'nickName2': "The Kurgening",
'generalPlay': "some fine link up play, great hustling",
'specialMoment': "a couple of very deftly executed ‘dummies’…",
'anecdote': "Touch it",

var Tom = {
'nickName': "The Coach™",
'nickName2': "Coach Colonel Judge Colonel Coach Judge Coach Judge",
'generalPlay': "some fine form to turn up half way through the first half and coach the brown brothers",
'specialMoment': "yelling a lot",
'anecdote': "didn’t play due to the fact that his kit was being stored beneath a small sleeping child",

var Takeshi = {
'nickName': "Kondo",
'nickName2': "The Tokyo Terror",
'generalPlay': "great positioning on court and penalty box poaching",
'specialMoment': "poking home from close range in the secong half",
'anecdote': "was fully kitted-up and ready to roll in goals until GtWAB arrived",

var Daniel = {
'nickName': "Le Coq Sportif",
'generalPlay': "some solid if energy-conserving work up front",
'specialMoment': "scored a rare hat-trick following a semi-stupaboot shot from a goalie clearance with said goalie wildly off his line…",
'anecdote': "had a strong tatse of coffee in his mouth for much of the game owing to excessive comsumtion in a bid to stave off sleep",

var Andy = {
'nickName': "WalMartin™",
'nickName2':"The BackDoor Man",
'generalPlay': "kind of outrageous running in the heat to keep the ball in play",
'specialMoment': "stopping the ball with less than 3 µm before the sideline",
'anecdote': "was forced to retreat from the field of battle late in the second half",

var Jim = {
'nickName': "Jim Bob",
'nickName2': "The Communications manager (get it )",
'generalPlay': "strong running and robust challenges",
'specialMoment': "An absolute cannon from wide on the left ",
'anecdote': "continued to update the Nannas on the inner workings of Tinder®",

var team = [Tao,Rhian,Jim,Takeshi,Giller,Daniel,Tom,Andy];

if (matchStats.scoreNan > matchStats.scoreOpp) {
var teamName = "The glorious men in brown™"
var gameDesc = "winning"
var teamName = "Nanna B"
var gameDesc = "losing"

var conj = ["did ","showed ","made ","had ","displayed ","presented ","exhibited ","was "];
var praise = ["kind of OK", "incredible","mindblowing","fucking staggering","breathtaking", "outstanding"];
var add = ["It should also be noted ", "On top of that ","In addition ","That was followed by "];
var damnation = ["pretty crap", "total rubbish","rather muppet-like","appalling","abysmal", "one of the most pathetic events ever witnessed by a Nanna"];

var reportStartString = "a new season at " + matchStats.loc + " and a return to " + gameDesc + " ways for " + teamName + ". " + team.length + " true heroes of Nanna stepped to the court to do battle with " + matchStats.oppName + ". ";
var reportBodyString = ""
var reportEndString = "And that was about it, the" + praise[Math.floor(Math.random()*praise.length)] + " " + team.length + " brown men then went to " + matchStats.apres + " which was OK, all things considered" ;

for (i=0;i< team.length; i++){
var t = team[i];
var randAdd = add[Math.floor(Math.random()*add.length)]
var randConj = conj[Math.floor(Math.random()*conj.length)]
var randPraise = praise[Math.floor(Math.random()*praise.length)]
var randDamn = damnation[Math.floor(Math.random()*damnation.length)]
var comment = [randPraise,randDamn]
var randComment = comment[Math.floor(Math.random()*comment.length)]
if({var momString = "and due to the extreme brilliance of his overall play was also awarded the highest Nanna honour of MOM"}
else{ var momString = ""}
reportBodyString = reportBodyString + t.nickName + " " + randConj + t.generalPlay + " and " + randConj + t.specialMoment + " which was also " + randComment + ". " + randAdd + t.nickName2 + " scored " + t.goals + " goals " + momString + " and " + t.anecdote + ". " ;
alert(reportStartString + reportBodyString + reportEndString)

17 dec 2015 long

Ɱẚṯƈẖ Ṟḗᵽ⍥ṟʈ 0ȼt 1ϟṱ 2015

2-3 ˅ ?
ďĉ (ṃ), ṛҥ, тķ, ẗш, ȶḧ, ćʛ – ?

Ĭ ẘøųʅȡ π○ᵵ ḫẵⱱḕ Þĩȼҟɐƌ ȉṱ, ṃɏ ġẹẗŧȉɲġ tɧḗ ⱮȬⱮ. Ɱӯ ◌▿ḝṟώẖẹḻʍȉᴨɠ ₥ḝɱ⍥ṝӵ ⍥ƒ тẖḝ ḡẫṃḗ ώἇƽ Ƅḗȉŋԍ ӵḗḻḻḙḋ ᾇt ϙűɨŧḝ ẚ ɓĭŧ ʍ○ṝẹ ʈɧậԓ ųšůḁɭ. ⱮẚұƂḗ įt ὧẵş Ƅḗȼʌυȿẻ ϯнɘ ∫⊍ʟ| ⌠⍺ϻɨḻƔ ҫὃᴨⱦ¡ɲʛɘῄt ҫ⍺ʍҽ ṱȭ ƨᵾҏҏ○ŗ† ? ъ⋃ʈ Ϯḥɇᴫ ᾷɠ△¡ῆ шɐ ⍶ʅ| ʟẻƭⱦ ъẻ∫ὃʀḗ †ħɇ ȉ₥⍴ŗὃ₥Þṱ⊔. Ὃʀ ɱàƔҌɇ ȋṫ ɰ⍶ȿ ʛűɪ|† ὃ⋂ ϮҺɇ ṗàṛẗ ○ӻ ẗḫ◌șḗ ᵰẵṉᴨᾇš ψḥȭʍ ńȭ ɭ○ṉɠḙɾ ẉṟĭƫḕ ṃẵṯȼɧ ʀḗƥ◌ṝтš ? Ʈɼᵾɘ Ĭ ђ△Ԃ ǝ ↄøųҏʟɘ ɵ∱ ɣẻʀү-ȵḗᾷʀ|ұ-ʛɾҽ△† ḡ○ᾷʟϟ Ϧ⊔ṫ ɪ†’ʂ ʈḧẻ ǝҫ†⊍△ʟʟƴ-ᶃṝɇà† ɵɲɘʂ ṭħᾷṱ ᵾșûàʟ|ү ƈȭυπʈ. ÀᴫƔɰǝƴʂ | ψʌȿ Ҍὃϯђ ρɼɵûᶑ ǝпḍ нø⋂ø⊍ŗɐᶁ ṫɵ ʀẻᴄɇϊ√ẻ ɫҺɇ ħϊḡҺɇșɫ ᾷҫҫʟ⍶ϊϻ ȭ∫ ϻƔ ḟẻʆʟøѿ, ʌɭʙẹĭt űṉȼ⍥ɱɱ⍥ńḻӵ ▿○ćẵʅ ȉﬣ ᵵḧḕĩɼ ḑȉșᾇᶈƥŗ○ⱱḁʟ ⍥ғ ɱӯ ǥḁϻḗ, Пẚᴫᵰḁƨ. Aʾƽ tɵ tɧḕ ᶃ⍺ϻɘ ϊṫʂḗ|ᵳ, |ȋ†ɫʟḕ ɼɇʍʌȋ⊓ȿ ɨῄ ₥ӱ ϻҽ₥ɵʀƔ ⍶ṗàŗт ḟɾὃʍ ɵṇẻ ◌ƭ ṯħḕ ˅ḗṟӵ-ԓɘẚṝɭӵ-ǥɾẹậƫş. Ϊт ώᾇƽ ẚ čṝ◌šš ĉ⍥ȗɾт ɓᾇɭḻ ƒṛ○₥ ɫнɐ ҫȭàↄҺ ɼȉᶃҥ† ĭπṭȭ †Һɇ Ƅὃχ ψȉɫħ ѿħɪҫḫ Ϊ ʌʟᵯɵȿϮ-√ẻɼӌ-πɇᾷṟұ ҫøἧ⊓ẹƈṭẻ₫, ẵ ϝʅӯĩʼnɠ ϟŧẵǥ-ʅȉҟẹ |ḝẫƿ, ɾȉʛẖт ʅḝᶃ ŧḥṛůƨt ᵳ◌ṝⱳʌṝɗ (ȉẗ’ƽ ȵɵt ậ ƽʆīḋẹ ĭƭ ɏøȗ’ṝḙ ɪñ ṯḫḝ ậȉʀ)… š⍥ ȼ|◌ƽḗ. Įt ẘøůḻḓ Һẵⱱḝ Ƃḙḙῆ ṫҺẻ ḕʠυᾷʟɪʂɘŗ ǝȿ шḗʅʅ… šȶīʼnƙ.
Ḁƒʈḝṛ ṯҺẚẗ ṫḫḕ Ɲᾷȵḁԓȿ ẘḗȵƫ ƅẵↄҟ ᵵ◌ ƁḝşϮΓ○ȭḵĭԓʛ’ȿ ᾇﬨԀ ⱳᾇŧͼẖḝƌ †ɧḕ ńḙώ/ȭʟƌ Ƨᵵɇƥḣḕñ ℃ḥὃώ ӻȉʟᵯ. Ṭɧḕ ғįʀʂṫҌȭŗπ △ᴫԀ Ϊ нɵϣɇɣɐɼ ҥǝđ ʆϊ†ɇʀᾷʟ|ү ᴊυʂ† ʀɐ†ᵾɼȵɐđ ∱ɼɵṃ ḁ ṃậššȉⱱḗ ṟὃẚḓ ᵵŗĩƥ (ƽḥ⍥◌†įñġ Ԃĭƨȕşḝḋ ɼḁĩʅɯẚӯ ɭīńḙȿ) ᾇńɗ ƈȭǜʅďᴨ’ŧ ᴊ○īȵ. Ậṗṗẫṛḗńϯḻӌ īt ⱳậš ġ⍥⍥ḓ, ƫɧḗ ṃ⍥˅īḝ ṱḫᾇƫ ĩş.

Ƨɭȉġḥṯḻϒ ◌ʅ ḏ ﬨḝώş ʙůẗ Α͂ᵾȿṫɼ⍺|ϊà ђἇȿ ¡Ϯ’ƨ 4ϯҺ Þɼȋϻẹ ₥ɨῄīȿɫḕṛ ĩń 5 ұḗᾇṟȿ (ȭɴɭӌ 1 ⍥ƭ ⱳḥȭᵯ ϣἇš ḝɭḕčŧḙḋ). Ƃ⋃ƫ ŧђẫṉҟ ǥ⍥ḓ ŧҥḙ ẫʀṱş ƥøṟᵵƭɵɭȉὃ ḫậƽ ъɐɐ∩ ṝɐʌḻʆɵҫᾷ†ɐԃ. Ƨɐʆ∫ Ḧҽʆ ῥ þʟ△ƴҽđ ṭħҽɪʀ ⌠ɨŗȿϮ ṗʀɵᵳɐʂƨī◌ᵰἇɭ ɠīġ. Ŧҥḗ Ḁṛʂҽ⋂ǝ| ϐɘẫɫ Ɱ⍺ἧ⋃ŗɘ 3-0 ƨҫὃŗȋȵʛ ᾷ|ʟ Ϯḣẹɨŗ ɠ⍥ḁʟƽ ĭﬨ |ḗşȿ ẗḥẫń 20 ᵯĭñȿ… ○ḣ ƴẹş.

Match Report : 150910 : Jim’s Confusion


13-2 V Cussi Betaes
CB, DC(1,MOM), JH, TH, TW(1), AW
6.40 pm, Brunswick

What to say about the first game back post beach box. All Jim seemed to be able to say was ‘confused’. He kept repeating it like a broken iPod, both at half time and after the final whistle.  I’m not sure the beach box had much to do with Jim’s confusion, given he only drank half a shandy, and I’m not sure the Nannas as a team were that confused either. Disjointed and lacking in general foot skills but not really baffled as to what was going on. I will admit to a certain befuddlement at the coach’s first attempt at shot stopping. He put his foot where the ball was going but somehow the ball seemed to pass straight on through ? Chasby made a a rare but warmly welcomed (and outwardly lucid) return to the court with some great intercepts though his shots on goal were, shall we say, gentle. Taoser wasn’t showing any signs of Jim’s alleged perplexationment and scored an absolute screamer, running from the right of midfield into the left corner before arrowing a trademark toepoke from a crazy acute angle at the near post. Neither did Andy Wong appear particularly bewildered, picking the pockets of our fleet footed opponents on a number of occasions and laying off a couple of the Nannas’ few decent passes of the night. The author perhaps was the second most disoriented of the team after the Titular Tinder Devotee but I speculate that may have been more anger issues with his shit week than any discombobulation from the 15 beers he drank at the beach box. Either way he managed to score a not too bad goal on about the 4th attempt, their goalie was really freaking good. Actually most of their team were pretty good, I guess that’s why they scored 11 more goals than the Nannas… or maybe we really were as confused as the TTD™ suggested, a theory that is certainly given credence by my being awarded the MOM.

As to the beach box, another resounding success. Slow dancing with Giller and a massive erection was probably the highlight, but given I can hardly remember anything past the 2nd hand that’s not really that illuminating. Micro table tennis with tequila boxes for a net = highlight. Chzasny/Brenda’s hair = highlight. Kondo’s osso bucco = double highlight. Wearing swedish survivalist gloves, bathrobe and a bow tie didn’t really compare with the coach judge colonel’s full-mil-spec period costume but was better than Tao’s no-costume-at-all-even-though-I-had-a-week-in-melbourne-to-sort-one. Erm… what else, I can’t remember, literally, except for those vaguely guilty morning suspicions that i was being a dick… damn it. Oh yeah, hallah french toast is freaking legitness !

Match Report – 23 July 2015

8.00PM @ Brunswick
6-4 v The Little Refs Team
DC(3, mom), TH, TW, RH, AW, CG(1), JH(2)

23s eh. They can go either way. More often than not it would seem they go the way of death and destruction. 23 people killed in bus crash, 23 tonnes of agent orange dropped in one day, 23rd of December 2012 the world comes to an end, that sort of shit. But every now and then you get a goody and last night was one of those. 23rd of July 2015 will go down as the day we comprehensively took out the table leaders. A huge testosterone infused display of brown masculinity. From the very outset the Nannas stepped to the little refs team and proved that age and a lack of skills are no barrier to freaking awesomeness. They had the mad floppy flipper-like foot skills, the well convincing step-overs and the bursts of large-mass speed but the Nannas had something else. I’m not sure what that was but we had it and it counted. Maybe it was team cohesion, maybe it was Tao back from an overcrowded European sojourn, maybe it was Jim’s Tinder buzz or Wal’s illness, perhaps it was Giller yelling ‘just push him’ 5 times in a row, the Captain’s composure… who knows, but whatever it was, it was fucking legitness!

Good old 23 even came through on a personal level for the author, with a hatrick and a MOM. Well that was the heads part, unfortunately tails is the other side of the old 23c coin and that meant going down hard – like Gary, the best actor on broadway – from a bullshit goalie tackle and triple fucking my shoulder. Praise you and curse you 23.

timestamp: Bill Shorten is a dick, Tony Abbott is a total dick, Guardian readers are getting their jollys over the end of capitalism and Arsene Wenger may be poised to drop 100 big ones on a striker, Karim Benzema anybody ?