All posts by striker

Match Report 26 Oct 2016

DC, EC, TK, CG, RH, AW

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",
'gameTime':"8.40pm",
'scoreNan':10,
'scoreOpp':3,
'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",
'goals':2,
'mom':false
}

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",
'goals':1,
'mom':false
}

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",
'goals':1,
'mom':false
}

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",
'goals':0,
'mom':false
}

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",
'goals':1,
'mom':false
}

var Daniel = {
'nickName': "Le Coq Sportif",
'nickName2':"Cocky",
'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",
'goals':3,
'mom':true
}

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",
'goals':0,
'mom':false
}

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®",
'goals':2,
'mom':false
}

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"
}
else{
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(t.mom==true){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.

ᵵĩʍḙƽȶἇᵯƿ:
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 ?

 

ⱮǝṭƈҺ Ṟẻρȭɼt 26†ђ ℉ḕʙ 2015

ⱮǝṭƈҺ Ṟẻρ◌ɼt 26†ђ ℉ḕʙ 2015
3-14 ▿ Ĵǝɭʌṗẹñȭ ℃ħȉ№ș
Đ℃2Ɱ, ṞĦ1Ṃ, Ŧʬᵯ, ĴĦ, Ǥȗȉḍὃ

Įẗ’ş ẵ †ɾĭᴄḵƴ ⍥πҽ, ṯḥɘ ὃʅȡ ƨĭẍ ◌’ҫʆὃҫҡ ԍʌϻɐ. Ŧɧɐṟḗ ᾷʀḕ ṱҺȭȿḗ Пḁȵ⋂℁ ϣȋṭḫ ṝḕàḻ ĵὃƄș ᵵҺḁƫ ĉẵ⋂’ẗ ṃ⍺ḵҽ ȉ†. Ŧҥḗṛḝ ʌʀẹ ȭtḥḗṛ Пḁﬨῄ℁, (ⱳḗʆʆ ℀ᵵȗậʟɭӱ ὃñḻӵ ⍥∩ẹ Пᾇȵñʌ) ώĩ†Һ ℀ŧȕẵʆ ɼɇ△ʟ ᴊȭʙș ɨ.ḕ. ĵɵҌș ʈҺʌŧ fiῄȋƨḧ ⍶ṭ 5.30 ⱳҥȭ ͼ⍺ṉ ᵯᾇҟḝ ĩṫ ƅůṭ àṛẹ ℉ᵵẹԓ ƫ◌ȭ fl⍺ɠẹʆ|ǝɫɐԃ Ҍɏ ᵵҺḕ ɼůṛᾷɭ ḻ△ɓĭ⍺. ŦҺḝñ ṯҺẻɼẻ ⍶ṛḗ ᵵħḝ Пʌπﬣ℁ ɰẖɵ ԃὃɴ’ϯ ҥᾇ˅ҽ ṛɘǝḻ ᴊȭьƽ ⍺⊓ᶁ ώђȭ ҫ⍺ῄ ₥ἇƙḗ ĩϯ Ƅǜt ɧᾇ˅ḙ ŧɧɐɲ ϟûϑđҽпʟỷ ḡḗṫ ᴊȭҍȿ ẚńԂ čẵῆ’t ʍậᶄɐ īϯ. Ŧḣḕṝɇ ἇɾɐ Пᾇ∩⋂℁ ѿҺὃ ḍ○ṉ’ϯ Һᾇⱱẹ ṟḗẵʆ ɉ⍥ɓʂ ɓȕ† ĉậṉ’ṭ ṃἇƙḙ ȉ† ∫○ṟ șȭṃḗ ὃẗɧɇṟ ⊍ﬣẻχþʆ△īπḗϑ ɾẻ℁◌ń. ẪᴨԀ fiῄẵ|ḻƴ ƫɧḙṝẹ ʌɼḕ tҺ○şḗ Пẫȵπ℁ ѿįƫҺ○űт ɾɘǝʅ ĵȭϦş ϣҺὃ ȿтẫᴫᶁ ʈᾷḻʆ |īķɐ ṭḧẻ Ŧɼûḗ Ħḕṝœș ℉ Пᾇῄȵ△ tҺẵт ᵵħḗӵ ᾇṛḕ ƈ⍶ṝɾϒȉ⋂ᶃ Ϯн△ȶ ḕǝṟʅӱ ṱ⍥ɼҫҺ ℉ ḣ◌№ǜʀ ẫ⋂ḋ ℅ʍᵯį™ḗ∩т ℁ ϯḣȭ⊔ᶃḥ ϊϮ ѿḙṟɘ ᵵнḕ ʟ℁ŧ ɫҺɪпʛ |ẹ⌠ẗ ʈ○ ŧḥḕṃ ◌∩ ẗҺĭș ԍʀɨ₥ ʌṉϑ ⋃ȵҺẫ ᵽ ῥӱ ᵽɭ⍺ʼnḕᵵ. ϯḧɐṉ ℉ ℅⊍ŗƽḝ Ϯнɐṛẻ ἇṝɐ ṭḧ⍥ʂɇ Пἇᴫɴ℁ ⱳҺɵ ἇṛẻȵ’ṫ ℀ϯᵾᾇʆʟү Пᾇṇп℁ ᾇϯ ḁʆʟ, ҍȕṭ ʀĭʼnԍϊᵰʂ, ώнȭ ἇḻš◌ ȿтẫԓԀ ṃẫɉẻʂṱɪƈ ẚń ḏ ἇȵȿẉḗɾ ƫҺɐ čậʆʆ, ī⌠ ὃ⊓ʟϒ ᵳ◌ṝ ŧђḕ |℁ƫ 7 ṃϊṉųⱦɐʂ ℉ ŧħɘ ɠἇ₥ɐ.
ḁπԀ ȿ◌…
ɨ⋂ᵵ⍥ ɫҺḗ ⱱ⍺ʟʟḕƴ ℉ ₫ẻẫtђ ϟтṝ⍥đḝ ṯђḙ ˅ʌ|ɨ⍶∩ŧ 4, ḻȋҟẻ Ϯɧḗ ŗĩḋḝṟȿ ℉ тẖẹ ẚƿɵↄàʆƔᶈȿɘ… ℃ɵ∩ʠ⊍ẹʂȶ, tħɐ ℃△Þ†àϊπ, |ɘậḍɨɲʛ ƭŗɵᵯ ƫḫɐ ϝɼȭπṫ, ∱ɇȉ∩ᵵɪŋᶃ, ɫυʀῄĩᴫɠ, ƒ△ḻḻϊ⋂ḡ ẫṇď ġẻṫⱦȋɲʛ ⍶ԓʛṛɏ ьûṫ ⊍ʆϯϊʍ⍶ƫḗʟỷ ᵾᴫᾷҌʟɘ ṱȭ ʍἇƙḗ ℁ ḣĩƽ ŋᾇᵯḗšʌҟḙ; Ш⍺ɾ, ฿ҽʂṫ Ḻ◌ȭᶄĭŋḡ, △|ẘẵӵƨ ẖ℁șʆȋȵġ, ℉tҽ⊓ štàᴫḍī⊓ǥ ƅɇнȋńḋ ⱦɧẻ ○ ῥ⍴◌ƽĩтĩȭἧ ʌ⋂ƌ ḕ▿ҽŗ ȉȵ ṱҥɐ ʈҺĩͼḵ ℉ įȶ; ℉ᾷᵯϊṇɐ, Ĵϊϻϐ◌Ƃ, ʟɨḵḗ ẵ ʟḗᾇᶄӯ șɪḙ√ɐ ĭᴨ ḡ⍥⍺ḻ ӌɐϯ šтʌŗⱱȋﬨġ ᾷȶ Ϯҥẻ ɵṭḣẹŗ ḗᴨ₫ ᾷῄḍ ϻ⍺ҟϊ⊓ġ ȿὃϻḗ ϯẹɼŗĩƄʟḗ ɓ℀ḵ ҏ℁ƽḗʂ; Đɐ△ȶҺ, ʟḕ ℅ɋ, ҫṝҽǝᶄĭῄǥ ḻɨḵḗ ʌ ƽƙḝḻẻȶ⍥ṉ ⍺ᴨƌ fiﬨԂȉ⋂ԍ №ᴨ ⱳ⍶ӌ †нɼ◌ȗʛҺ, 2 ẫṟḗ ʍ⍥ʍɘȵṯƨ ℉ ɪﬣšȉᴄįᴄĭ○ṉ №ⱳнḕɾɘ ἧẻẫɼ ɐ№ůɠђ ȶ○ ȿᵵẹ₥ ẗḥɇ tįƌҽ ℉ ɠɼɇḝπ тҥậṱ ○˅ҽʀϣẖɘʆʍẻḓ †ҥҽ Пḁʼnȵ⍺ ɠẫ○ɭş. Ǥůĩḋ⍥, tҥḝ 5ṱḣ ḥὃṝƽḙʍʌԓ (ɰḣẚt ɨš ñẹẍt ẚ⌠ẗḗṝ Đҽ△ṱн ? žɵʍɓȉẻ ʀҽʂ⋃ṟŗḕᴄϯįȭἧ) ɭɪҡḗ ẵ ȥ○ʍьϊɘ ɾȉɗϊṇɠ ᾇ ʍἇƫҥḗὧ ьʌɼ⊓ẻƴ Һὃʀƽḕ ϊńĵḝƈȶḗԀ △ ᵯ⍥ʍẹṉɫ ℉ ȗʀǥẹᴨↄƔ ⍺ᵰɗ ṗẹﬨɇϯṛḁṭɨ⍥ἧ ɓ⋃ṫ ĩṯ ɯ℁ ʌɭɭ ǝ |īȶᵵḻḗ Ϯ◌ ḻḁṭɘ, Ŧẖḗ △ҏ⍥ͼʌʟӱþϟҽ ḣ⍶ᶑ ậʟɾḝḁԀӱ ɓɐԍȗﬣ.
Α͂ϝȶҽɾѿ△ṟȡȿ ɰḝ ϣɇ⊓t ṭɵ ⱦḧɐ ฿ṛ⋃∩ȿɰȉƈḵ Ǥŗẻẻᴫ ẉђīҫђ ѿ℁ ậ ɼḗғṟɇșнĭȵǥɭӵ №∩-Ƅ◌ǜṝǥɇ○ȋȿ ḙχρɇɾɪḙԓↄҽ. Ɵῆẹ ỷ○⋃ȵɠ ʆ⍶ᶁӌ ѿ℁ ○▿ḝŗҥḝàŗᶑ ȭṝԀḕṛȉñʛ ‘ẅḥᾇт ɇ√ɐʀ ȋȿ ȶнẻ čẖɐǝƿḕϟɫ’ ậɫ ŧħɇ Ƅẵṟ ҍḗƒ◌ŗɐ ʆ⍺ϯḗṛ ℁ķįñᶃ ȶɧḕ Пàń∩℁ ɪӻ тђḙɏ ḣᾇᶑ ḁῆƴ fi|ṯḙʀş. ŦҺẹṛɐ ώḗɾḕ Ɣ◌ǜ⊓ǥ ᵯɐﬨ ȼḁ||ḗᶁ Đ⍶˅ḗ шḣ◌ ҥᾇḓ ᶑʀẻậḓɭ⍥ƈҡȿ àɴȡ ẗҺḕ ₥⊍şɨҫ ℅ńȿɨșƫẻϑ ʅʌŗʛḕʆƴ ℉ 90ʂ ŗȭƈƙ. Ǥûɪḋ◌ ṟḝẚ|ḻӌ şҥȋƒтḝɗ ẗҺḕ Пẚ⋂ń℁ ȕşůẫ| ḑīῆῆҽŗ ℅∩√ɘṝϟḁṱīɵἧ ȉ∩т○ tҺɇ ⍴ȭʆȋϯīᴄ⍶ʅ šƿḧḕṛḙ, ẘɇ н⍶ƌ ᾷ№ʈҺɇŗ ƥĭпϮ ℉ ϐẻɇɼ ⍺ṇᶑ ṯḣɇﬣ ṛὃḍḗ ħ○ʍɐ. ẗḫẻ ⍺űƫħ◌ŗ ṝ○ďɐ ḍĩṛḕᴄẗ|ӵ ƥ℁ϯ ŧҥɇ ℅℀Һɇš Һɵȕšḝ ἇṇԃ ώ℁ ẗẻ₥ƿŧḝԃ ṫɵ ẻṇϙűϊṟḝ ℁ †ḫҽ ẉɧḗȶɧẻṝ ẗҥḗ ℅℀н ẘ◌ûʟḍ ʙɐ ᵾᶈ ⌠⍥ɼ ẵ ψẻḗ ₫ʀ⍶ᵯ ℉ ӻṛϊƨķƔ ʙ⋃ṫ ₫ḕƈĩԂɇḓ ƅɐṯȶḕʀ ℉ ȉʈ.
Ŧ◌ԓỷ ẴʙϦ◌†ϯ ȋš ṟẻġʀḙtϮḁƂʟƴ ϟṫȋʆʟ тҺɘ ƥʀĭɱḙ ṃĩɴȋƽʈḕʀ ἇ⊓ɗ Ŧűŗἧɓ⊍ɭʟ īș ʟ⍥ɵҟϊ⋂ǥ ₥ὃʀḙ ẵɲɗ ɱȭɼḗ şᵯᵾǥ. Ậ ʍẵȵ ɨɲ ℃ђī⋂ἇ ŗḙҫẻϊɣҽ ḏ ᵵḫҽ ώɵṟʅđ’ş fiʀȿʈ Þɘñɨƽ tŗẵ∩ƨƿɭ⍺ɲɫ ʙȕŧ ẗɧҽń ḥẵԂ ĭт ṟḝʍ◌√ḙḓ ἇᵳȶḝṟ ṯɧṟḕɐ ẘḕɘƙƽ ḑǜḙ ƫɵ ⍴šɏƈḣὃ|ɵԍīĉẫʆ ṝɇ℁ȭﬣș. Àʀʂҽᵰậʆ ʆɵșᵵ ἇƥƿà|ḻɪɲḡɭӵ ɪᴫ ʈḫẹ fiṟƽṭ ḻḝġ ℉ †Һɘĩṛ ℃ɧ⍺₥Þī⍥⋂ϟ Ḻҽἇɠȗɐ тīɐ ẘĭȶђ Ɱ◌ᵰẫ℅ Ƅůṭ tẖḝ ฿|℀ᶄ ℃ẚƥș △ṝḕ ḁɓƨ⍥ḻųⱦẹʟӌ ᶄϊ||ȋﬣɠ ɪϮ, ү⍶ɏ.

Match Report – 6th Nov 2014 – part I

1-4 v Glorious Leaders
8.40pm – Debney Park
CB, DC(m), RH(1,m), TK, AW – PT(r)

Five whole Nannas™ managed to make the game this week. Outrageous. So with the addition of new ring-in Paul we even had a sub, which was a good thing considering Chasby was playing with Oscar Pistorious’ legs and a spinal theatre injury and I was playing with 3 broken ribs. The early stages of the game saw some sloppy old-man-Nanna play and 3 soft goals go in. The opposition had some moves but not really the sort of moves to justify the scoreline. We were also slightly unlucky in front of goals with a number of shots hitting the metalwork. At half time Captain™ called for more intensity in our tackles and led by example with some extremely committed hustling at one pointing breaking a former ring-in’s toe (I know that pain…). Most Glorious Leader® also put away the only brown goal of the evening with the beautifully angled deflection of a pass/shot from the author. The game ended 1-4. Paul sustained a ‘groin’ strain which adds more weight to Frasay’s telekinetic reaching abilities. Kondo made some fine stops and was generally immense in Goals. Chasby’s lightness of foot belied his fugitive fitness and Wal put in one particularly sweet long distance backdoor cross-court trademark.

The Après found us drinking bargain 500ml bottles of Four Pines on a skanky rubbish littered bench in North Fitzroy. Dirty Dave-from-Carolina had the temerity to close shop early. The MOMs took photos with author’s Flash Gordonesque vaporising camera and proceeded to talk shit at the other Nannas until an old grandpa in his pyjamas came and (very politely) scared them off…

match report – 23rd Oct, 2014

A long time a go in a galaxy far far away. The Nanna’s came head to head against a deadly force. It was a clash of good and evil, a fight to the death. It was a long and ferocious battle, bloody and sweaty. The Nanna’s were losing the battle, getting pummelled, but the did not give up. The come back started when Daniel Crooks, one of the five Jedi’s leapt ten meters into the air coming down behind the enemy and slew one of the four sith. We kept fighting and noticed that they were getting tired, but we were too. We kept pressing, then Tao saw an opening and went for the kill, but we were still losing the fight. I was in heavy combat with an enemy and was about to take a hit but Andy bravely jumped in front of me and got a nasty cut to his side. In the end, when we couldn’t take another step the sith fled. And the system was rid of 2 powerful sith. 

 


But I have a feeling that we will meet again. 

Match Report by Elliot Crooks

 

(ed: youngest Nanna debut at 13 years and 174 days)

Match Report 20th Feb 2014

7-8 v No Snow White – 9.20pm Coburg
DC(3), CG(gk,1), RH, TH,TK, AW, TW (nb: other goal credits still to be confirmed)

Old King lion is king of the jungle. He lives there, in the jungle, with all the other animals that he is the king of and all the plants and trees and insects and all the other shit that lives in the teeming jungle. But in the wastelands, where there is nothing, nothing but ice and sleet and sharp rocks and more ice, there lives another animal, forgotten and lost, wandering for months in the arctic winter. Sad and desperate, in a kind of amnesiac post traumatic fugue state the lone wolf traverses the polar wilderness in search of that which he has unremembered…

And then one day everything changes. The fugue state lifts, memories of the savannah come flooding back in a synaesthetic deluge, an avalanche of meaning and substance. Inundated with purpose, density, mass, weight, shape and structure the lone wolf begins his journey back. With each degree of latitude comes new awareness, a steadily increasing sense of collectivism and self organising complexity. Like a kind of highly evolved slime mould his very cells begin to realign and transmogrify, shifting and changing. As the mighty equatorial plains of Africa unfurl before him he finds he is no longer the lone wolf, lost in the wastelands of the north, but part of a greater whole, a unified system of the world.

He is once again a part of old King Lion. He is home.

God is real…

I must have missed the meeting where the Nannas™ voted to discontinue Match Reports™ or Team Photos™. So in lieu of real content I will post an image of near perfection. Fresh, squeaky, knee high powder! Skiing this stuff requires either great technique or brute force, neither of which I had at my disposal. As a result I was almost incapable of climbing the stairs onto the train back to Linz and now have grave fears for the state of my mobility tomorrow… but what a day, what a sweet sweet day !

the upgrade

 

The original Geekbench score with 2 x quad-core 2.26 GHz

a pair of X5680s secondhand off ebay

 

cleaning stuff, thermal bits and a long 3mm hex driver

 

Processor board comes out

 

heatsink comes off leaving some goo behind

 

nice shiny heatsink

 

fan connector clipped

 

thermal pad attached to voltage regulators

 

shiny new CPU leaves the cosy safety of it’s anti-static bag

 

and gets smeared with thermal paste

 

and then placed in motherboard

 

the tricky bit is tightening the screws on the heatsink but it all went very smoothly and now there are 2 x hex-core 3.3Ghz chips…

 

which are TWICE as fast… happy days.

Match report – August 8th 2013


The Triumph

 


fly, unloved losing streak, till thou run out thy race;
Call instead upon the lazy leaden-stepping one hit wonders,
Whose speed is but the heavy plummet’s pace;
And glut thyself with what thy womb devours,
Which is no more then what is false and vain,
And merely mortal dross;
So little is their paltry loss,
So mighty a victory is our gain.
As when the single carriage bestrode the path;
Quintuplicate solidus gather’d within prodigous girth.
For when, as each bad pass and miskick hast entomb’d
And last of all thy greedy self consumed,
When injuries steer us not from thy truest quest,
And rightous Shots on Goal thus manifest.
Then long eternal winning shall greet our bliss,
With the ardent seven fold kiss;
And Joy shall overtake us, as a flood,
When every thing that is sincerely good,
And perfectly divine,
With speed, and pace, and possession, shall ever shine,
About the supreme brown throne
Of those, to whose happy-making sight, alone,
When once our golden-gilded soul shall climb,
Then all this earthly grossness quit,
Attired with stars of brown and gold, we shall for ever sit,
Triumphing over our vanquished foes, and thee, O losing streak!



 

 

 

Match Report – 9 May 2013 – part the second

The coach, in his inimitable metonymical style, has pretty much covered all the leonine bases, which leaves me only to ruminate on the twisted ankle I received during the game. It was one of those 50/50 balls where both combatants are connecting at pretty much the same instant. If it were an exercise in 5th form physics the be-leather-patched teacher would explain to his young and restless  students how the equal and opposing forces cancel each other out resulting in an energy transfer from kinetic to heat or light energy. Unfortunately for the author this was not the case, instead the younger, angrier, stokier side of the equation got more on it and the more elegant and subtly placed side of the equation got hideously twisted beyond the normal operational envelope… to be continued… maybe.

First published on: Jun 6, 2013 @ 19:17 – backdated for your viewing pleasure

Match Report – 18th April 2013 : supplemental

Tao did a fine job of covering the match proper and, given as he wasn’t able to attend the ‘aprés’, I shall offer instead a report on the after-match festivities.

So, newly ensconced in the deep north the nannas have been forced into a re-think of the post match venue. It had been rumoured that Preston is veritably teeming with hipster bars so we set out to find one … and find one we did. The Racoon club left me with three enduring images. The First, taxidermy, the stuffed racoon is the new wooden owl. The second, a pretend lumber jack working on his full sleeve tat designs, you know, the bearded, buddy holly bespectacled, flannel shirt wearing guy hunched hunched over a sheet of tracing paper earnestly working on the shading of his pseudo japanese gangster dragon scales… The last and most comical, is the more effete version of the faux-jack, whispy beard and sailors beanie on top of overtly miscombined patterns swirling a ridiculously large brandy glass … hilarious. The captain was experiencing an acute case of hipsteritis and muttering into his order-of-magnitude-more-hetreo-and-manly whiskers… needless to say we were back the following week ordering the finest Islay single malts* and locally brewed small batch IPAs…

* Ardberg, not as medicinal as Laphroig but with all the smoke and peat

First published on: Jun 6, 2013 @ 19:04 – backdated for your chronologically ordered viewing pleasure

Match Report • March 21st 2013

4-7 v Real Madredful – 6pm Wesley
CB, DC(3,mom), GF(1), CG, RH, TW – supporters OTG, PTG, SB

All the talk was of Preston this week. From my perspective it was all to do with an ill fated house purchasing scenario just south of Bell St, what a freakin’ nightmare. From the Captain’s perspective it was all about Hoddle Street/Punt Road and how we might avoid the weekly monoxide nightmare it has come to represent. Apparently they have spare places in a Preston comp on a Thursday … we’ll see. I for one am up for it but I do harbour grave fears for the structural integrity of the Nannas™ if we were to attempt a move. Morale is low, commitment is lower, the thursday night impromptu has not been see in the wild for a very, very  long time. A move at this point could prove disastrous.  On the other hand it could be just what the brown brothers need to kick start that old  joie de vivre that is so sorely missing… perhaps we should put it to the voter®… or a forum poll perhaps.

The 6 o’clock game is fucker, or if you are the coach, a fister. It played absolute havoc with our transportation ( more grist for the preston mill). I met Giller and the Captain oustide Clifton hill station ( is that a first ? a pickup from PT ?) after a frisk and wriggle with the met police.  We made better than expected time on boulevard of evil and arived… wait for it… 32 mins… that’s right…32 mins early, which was odd. Visitor© and Brown© arrived a little closer to kickoff but no sign of teh Nannas whose names stat with “Ta” so it was a Tight 5 for the first half until Bestlooking© managed to fight his way through the traffic, making us 6 for the second half. Cheezles opened the scoring with a deftly placed shot which was followed quickly by one from the author (a rather novel event) putting the brown and gold 2 ahead after about 5 mins. By half time it was 2 all and 4-7 at the final whistle. We played pretty well for the most part with some good passing, nice running and a great goal at the end (if I do say so myself) but they were killing us on the counter and had a couple of footskills too many. ah well.

The standard post 6 o’clock game full impromptu failed to materialise due to total nanna nannalyness leaving giller and the author to go to Huxtaburger for a mandate ( and full props to huxtaburger fro remembering the forgotten burger), followed by a brief tour of smith street’s artistic output, we were even planning to have a look at Alice’s opening… dirty… but then the tram arrived, so the author didn’t get to… but giller did.

– – – – – – – – –

Preston #1, the one that got away…

 

Preston #2, the harsh graphic reality…

Match Report 31.1.13

1-2 v Hamptons

DC(m), CB, RH, GF, JH(1), TK, TW, AW

Holy crapsticles, what a day. What a freakin’ week !

Thursday the 31st of January 2013 as pointed out by the Visitor™ has rather a nice symmetry to it. Not only that but it has a deep significance for the author as it was on this day that he marked his 40th complete revolution of the sun. That’s right, 31.1.13 was a big day.

For the Match Report™ I was planning to do something of a comic book photo essay detailing the activities of the day from rise to crash but after starting it all seems a bit too much given Wal is picking me up in less than two hours.

After a brief sleep in I got out of bed, opened cards from the young children and received apologies for lack of present from the wife. Breakfast involved lovely (very pink) company and great coffee but a rather shit breakfast. I definitely don’t recommend the bacon, fig and onion chutney from penny farthing at all, more than a slight suggestion of mince on toast from the Tokaora tea rooms !

Lunch, now this is where it started to get good. I brief whip into the studio was followed by PT into the city to meet up with the Captain and Brown at Gills Diner. After some rather delicious local beers (it’s the year of the IPA according to the Captain) and a round of coffin bay oysters ( and discussion about excessive decorative rock salt use) I had the porterhouse (grass fed) with triple cooked chips and heirloom carrots. My colleagues had the free range pork coteletta with Italian coleslaw. I felt slightly guilty getting the steak as it seemed a bit bland, you know how restaurants always seem to have a nice safe steak with straight up veges for the Dad to get ‘cos he doesn’t like that fancy shit. Any way after some discussion with the waitress about ‘very rare’ v ‘blue’ I ordered rare… of course it came out medium (idiots) but i didn’t have the heart to send it back, and it did taste fantastic… as did the fig salad and the continued IPA drinking.

Leaving Gills, we went in search of bar. Unfortunately our groovy new secret underground back alley bar knowledge has accrued about 15 years of rust so went to the rooftop bar. Points in it’s favour: the view – Points against: No shots ??? and a group of flouro-vested-middle-aged-tourists gawping at the jobless patrons. Ah well, the sun was out and Chassy spilled a $16 margarita while talking us through it’s purchase. We were quite tipsy by this point and the concern was mounting on the forum.

From curtain house we jumped on a tram with the notion of having enough time to squeeze in one more drink. No sooner were we on the tram than the heavens opened up with ‘red on the weather radar’ level tropical downpour. There was much laughter and Photostream™ commenting as we trundled down St Kilda Rd. A crazed dash through the rain had us in the Belgian beer cafe sipping on Patron and noting the whiskey like flavours of a high quality tequila.

And then to the game. There was much mockery and laughter but the 3 of us were pumped, except that i had no kit due to a family stuck in traffic north of the river. That’s where the brotherhood of the Nannas really comes into it’s own, from nowhere came a pair of shorts and a top. No Caoch (due to his new role as a Land Lord) meant no sub sheet. Having so badly fvcked up the last one i was determined, even through my patron haze, to get this right, and I did, but forgot how it worked before running on. Subbing chaos ensued including 2 re-drawings (in one of which the Captain wholly omitted Wal from the lineup) but no matter as we were one up thanks to Jim. I’ll admit, the game is somthing of a blur, but we were doing OK. There was some nice passing and some nice running, but it was freaking hot, three of the on court players and been drinking since 1pm and our defence began to fall apart. I had a couple of runs on goal which could have ended better, Brown could have converted his penalty, we could all of had some slightly better finishing. In the end it was somewhat deflating draw. but no, not only had we veered off script when i didn’t score the winner in the dying seconds, in fact we had lost ! WTF ? In any case the Nannas were magnanimous in the extreme, awarding the birthday fool the MOM.

Saying goodbye to the entirely selfless Miri (who had driven 3 children through peak hour traffic to watch their foolish father’s fortieth football fumblings) we headed to the Waiters. The captain and Brown had lost a little of their pre-game pizzaz but the Author was determined to keep the good times alive so gratefully accepted a peroni while contemplating another plate of red meat. Everything pointed to the sardines, but there weren’t any on the specials board. Te fall back would of course be the Porthouse with pepper sauce but I’d already had one of those only a few hours earlier so I opted for the Fillet Mignon. To be honest it was pretty rustic following Gills but that’s the joy of the waiters right. It should also be noted that the Funky Nanna had by this time joined the party. Bestlooking threw Osso Bucco all over himself and then it was time to find a bar. But not of course before a partaking of mildly discombobulating reliefer downstairs from Waiters. Suitably bewildered we headed into the city. Giller, unlike relier in the day, knew where we should go and soon the nannas were ensconced in a hipster bar looking only mildly out of place. The bar man somehow convinced the Visitor and I that some kind of fancy Jose Cuervo was actually better than Patron (idiot) so it was that and some beer I can’t remember. Brassy also came to the party at this point with some of the black magic of which Brassy is so fond.

And then at last, the highlight of the evening, Daytona. Not only did i not fuck up and find myself solo racing (and yelling at the staff) as usual (though both Brown and the Captain did somehow manage this act (I’ll admit there was the tiniest touch of schadenfreude)) but we even worked out how to buy-in after the race has started… Ahhhh sweet car racing games, they really are a disproportionate amount of fun.

From here, we started to lose people. Like 2 giant solid-fuel booster rockets Brown and the Captain peeled off, returning spent to earth as their precious payload continued it’s stratospheric journey into the night. Bestlooking also left for much more pragmatic reasons. Nam Loong provided some questionably hygienic pork buns before we went to troika for a quiet one, a beer I believe, more Peronis perhaps. The Visitor™ recorded some candid camera video with his highly prominent new iPad Mini before himself disappearing into the evening shortly after midnight leaving Thefunkynanna, Wal and I to ponder dessert.

John Saffran wasn’t there and we didn’t get the big plush leather seats beside the Return of the Jedi™ window but jesus christ, the supper club really payed the dessert bills. Crème brûlée, sticky date pudding and a lemon tart. All washed down with a glass of Pedro Ximénez (interestingly, the only one on the menu (and completely unknown by our waiter (idiot))). boom. unfortunately i did at one point inhale some of the PX which was a really bad thing to do, for a long moment i thought i was either going to throw up or pass out or both.

By the time we caught the cab home, I was so fucking full I had a little shelf just below my sternum, not a Robert Crumb fantasy butt shelf you could rest a cup of tea on, more like a rest your 0.2mm pilot fineliner shelf.

I finally crawled into bed about 1.30am irritating Miri with the led light on my phone as I tried to finish off my “a man turns 40” video diary… holy crapsticles, you only turn 40 once right !

 

* illustrations to follow

Match Report 10th of January 2013

4-10* v South Melbourne AMC
DC(4,m), GF, RH, TH

A TRUE HERO OF NANNA

That is the mantle that sits proudly upon the shoulders of 4 of the finest Nannas to ever wear the brown and gold. Twas the first game of the New Year and most nobly did they enter the battle a full man short of a team. That is not to say that Gilla is a full man but it is to say that he deserted his brothers when they needed him most. Admittedly it was the 10th birthday of Northside and there was a veritable ocean of pert young ladies dashing their nubility upon the white cliffs of the proprietors eyeballs… but… no, we were pretty sure as we drove off without him that we were alone… so alone. Yes, we could have hired some sellsword to step into the breach, but locating the number of single futsal mercenary was beyond us so early in the year. I for one had been in the country less than 24 hours. And thus it was that we rode onto the field with Bish* the ref  as our goalie (will we ever learn?, the ref never goes in goals !). Our opponents, saxons amongst them, were far from the stiffest, ahem, we have come, ahem, up against and the nannas were well matched to the task. Alas the second half came around, the nannas ran out of juice and Bish stopped stopping the ball going in the net. It was unattractive.

After the game we went back to an empty house in north fitzroy (apart from the chickens) ate malaysian, drank beer, chatted with brassy, drank Oban and generally got pretty trashed. We were joined by Wal with a slab of beer direct from Croajingalong. Near the end of the evening Frasay took the opportunity to outline his ambitions for the Captain and I to star in a high intensity martial arts action film which we promptly began rehearsing.

* actual score was 4-14
** Not sure exactly what the refs name is