Written fresh by Izzy (mom), the day after – Texted via Wal, and posted as below:

A lot of missing Nannas this week meant what felt like a lot of running, luckily a few fill ins including myself were enough to half get the job done with a 4-4 draw. I was told on the day of the game we were playing with no goalie, or even back up goalie, and honestly I thought for sure we were letting in double digits, but Wal and Cocky pulled through surprisingly so hats off to them.

I scored a couple lucky ones where the defence seemed to part to let me through, Sol had a great fill in match and kicked one and Tao got on the scoreboard too. From memory we were down most of the game until the last 5 minutes where we snuck ahead, unfortunately it wasn’t enough in the end and the other team tied it up, I think by then most of us had ran out of legs. Both teams put up a good fight and the match had I nice intensity to it, I think the ref might’ve had the worst performance with a few too many inconsistent calls for my liking, would’ve liked to see the body cam for a few of them.

Overall a well fought draw for a Nannas team down a few people, and as I’ve been told a draw is a win?

Cheers Nannas

Thu Sep 17 20266-9 v The Misfits
DC 3 mom, CG 1 (gk), RH, TW, AW, Izzy 2 mom

Its true, I’m writing this report less than 2 hours before kickoff, not because I purposefully wanted to shaft my brother Nannas or disrespect the noble office of MOM but due to the total fucking nightmare that is colour management, but I’ll leave that rant for another day.

The game was very hard to recall only minutes after it finsihed. There was a fair degree of cognitive damage inflicted by BBP26*, obviously, but i think it had more to do with the similarities and subsequent confaltion with teh previous weeks game. The Nannas charged out of the gate but didn’t have enough in the tank to last a second half with which the opposition made off.

A bath full of questionable chinese magnesium sulphate went some way to restoring my memory, enough to recall the ‘perfect’ hatrick I scored – Header, Left and then Right – the later (ably assisted by a penile deflection… snigger, no Jim!). Gilby the Funk Bilby scored by throwing the ball into the goal via a fumble from his opposite number, and Izzy scored a couple of crackers with his signature steeze, damn that kid looks silky AF on the ball!

Post game we were all top monged to go out (it was late) but Wal and keep it real with a nightcap at the Wooly Beaver(tm) – Stout followed by cointreau on Raocks, The Nannas Life Coach knows what time it is!

* For a full and accurate report of BBP26 See Hugh’s exemplary notes regarding the particulars

Apologies, the following match report was written on the night by Mom, izzy.. sent to me, whereupon I lost it. But here it is, out of sync, my fault, my apologies:

By Izzy:

One of the best games I can remember playing with the Nannas, great intensity from the start and the other team were stuck into it too. We scored first but they came back to lead and were up 3-2 in the second half when Dan pulled out some individual brilliance to equalise. From there we took momentum and before we knew it we were up 5-3 with 2 minutes left. Honestly the game went by in a blur, probably due to the constant running and physicality but it felt like a great battle with a few magical moments. Gil with a few crazy saves as usual but I’d say the work rate from the whole team was what won out in the end. Debut for me on the prinny hill court so was glad to kick it off with a win, Cheers Nannnas.

6-8 Loss Vs Kick Balls

CB (Ass Coach), DC (1), EC (1), JC (GK), RH (2), AW, TW (2)(MOM)

There’s definitely something to be said for writing the match report the night of the match. I couldn’t even remember kicking any goals straight after the game and I actually kicked 2!! ?

It took the Nanna’s a little while to warm up. Must’ve been about 3 easy goals to the opposition in the early minutes of the game. Not to take anything away from them as their foot skills and teamwork was a step up on the last time we played them. In fact the last time we played them it was they that were a bit slow to warm up. Unfortunately they still beat us both times.

There were a lot of goals from both sides and I can’t remember the order but the captain got a couple including one very composed one right in front of goals from an assist from Wal.

Cocky back healed one in and got another and I bet the was incredible as was the one from his offspring Big El.

I got a couple. El gave me back heal pass, must run in the DNA, right in to the sweet spot for me to toe poke a goal. Second time he and I have done that so must be some kind of tradition or something. My other came from a free kick just outside the D after protesting that the goalie threw the ball with his feet just over the D. The ref was swayed by my emotional outburst and gave us the free. They’re guarding of the goals left a few gaps and I managed to thread the needle and toe poke another through.

Special mention to Joel whose fast and accurate disposals were exemplary and at least 2, maybe 3, goals were created as a direct result. Also special mention to Chassy for Ass Coaching. I saw him checking mine.

If the game was decided on the second half I believe we would’ve won it. If I remember correctly???? ?

2- 1 victory over Riff raff.

CB, CG, JH 1 (MOM), RH (MOM), Alcides 1

I believe it was Socrates who first discovered that ringers don’t grow on trees Ringers are intact a precious commodity that require patience and nurturing or they will turn on you and pull out with only hours to spare.

this is the unfortunate predicament that the band found themselves unworn only four players for the first 10 minutes. It’s where a nanna really finds himself and find himself we did, no goals until the newest Brazilian arrived and saved our arses/ i think Socrates also said that you need at least three Brazilians to function properly, it is true

.

4-5 loss

CB, DC, CG, JH, RH 2 (mom), TK, TW 2

Shifting from the lush beauty of New Zealand to an ex-penal colony largely covered by desert could be seen as a strange move. Miraculously for me in the mid nineties It was a life changing move, resulting in a beautiful wife, a delightful family and numerous highlights. However that move pales in comparison to the 500metre shift from Brunswick Secondary College to Princess Hill High School.  Both moves were a journey away from the familiar, away from loved ones, into something scary, something new but also something shiney, full of hope and wonder. 

What could be more exciting than a referee with a body camera? 

I’ll tell you what. 

Nothing. 

There is nothing more exciting than a uniformed Frenchman in matching knee length socks and gloves wearing a freaking body camera. It’s like the future, where the world is perfect, polished the best thing it could imagine and transported it back to us now to give us all hope that everything is going to be ok. 

The nets have no holes.

There are Signatures on iPads.

There is a ladder.

The opposition on the schedule matches the opposition on the court.

There’s a new clubhouse, the burgers are quite good, if somewhat messy. 

And the game lived up to the hype.

Keen young men with floppy hair dressed in black put something of a dampener on the evening by winning, the fairytale it was not.

We started with flair and aplomb, first goal from a sweetly taken corner caught the captains foot and the back of the net. Then a lobbed cross met the captains limp volley and again the back of the net, two goals up within the first 5 minutes. The first half was nanna style, cross court passing, strong defensive particularly from Chassey and Takeshi, forward thrusts from Cocky. The second half was harder, Jim was big up front and Gilla was enormous down the back but it was Tao with two goals, including a long range thunderbolt that shone. The loping Gen-y‘s had the finalise say however, shooting truly from long range.

Change comes at a price, great change costs $20.00 for a chicken burger ( only on thirsdays ).

Match report,  Thu Jul 16 2026

5-4 v Win Diesels
CB, DC 2 mom, CG (gk), TK 1, TW 1, Guido 1

And so it begins – a new Era in Nanna lore – as we move to a new venue at Princes Hill Secondary. Which rather puts me in the mind of Taylor Swift, and so I give you the Nannas Eras Tour, an incomplete list of all the official venues to have been graced by the Nannas™

• Albert Park Pits – where it all started 26 years ago
• The field out the front of the Pits – on actually grass
• Mac Robertson’ Girls ? – when the Pitts were in use by F1 losers
• That school in Richmond somewhere ? – where even was that, is this real?
• Wesley College – The home of Cock House
• Preston Girls (formerly Preston Ladies college of the domestic arts) – 1 season only which was annoying given we bought a house in Preston just to be close to the venue
• Coburg – the hardcore place we walked out on because we weren’t though enough
• Brunswick Secondary College – so many years
• Debney College – the home of Dolan
• …Are there others, surely ?

And now to Princes Hill… a smaller gym with a harder floor but what would appear, from first impressions, to be a much more professional setup. The goals had fully intact nets and the Ref was even wearing a bodycam! There’s not much to say about the game itself, the new opposition, in AC Milan strip, were much like the teams at Brunswick, physical but pretty fair, so that’s good. The ref was very strict on the quick take, Giller earning an early free kick for hanging onto the ball too long, ok, got it, check. Erm.. what else, Giller jinxed himself and i got the first goal of the new venue… Kondo scored a stylish tap-in from maybe 1cm out,  after a tasteful last second layoff from Guido. 

After the game we went to the Great Northern to drink beer eat burgers and be regaled by Isaac Maling. 

Spain won the World Cup, thank god, Argentina are so shit!

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https://www.google.com/maps/d/u/0/edit?mid=1ZjoH7kEJ9-E5XQxNfzUrsLRnZtH_pdQ&usp=sharing

Some moments in life sneak up on a man, some moments arrive with full fanfare and trumpets and some arrive as an afterthought via text from Joel.

Brunswick secondary college has been a home away from home for too many years to count on your hand, unless you’re Loretta Samson, who had a weird growth beside her thumb that she hid under her cardigan sleeve. Loretta also had a brother called paul who fell off the new playground and broke his leg. Coincidence? I think not. The family connection at APISC, has been very strong. Phil’s dad, Phil and then (cousin?) Joel have guided the nannas through the mayhem of Thursday nights for over twenty five years. That’s quite a relationship, and like all good relationships it has had a financial kicker, and like all good relationships we didn’t hold up our end of the bargain. Treat’em mean and keep’em keen.

And so we say farewell. It has a finality to it this time, we’ve split before but always continued the drunken midnight texts. I’m not crying. We can finally remove the APISC toothbrush from the bathroom. It’s over APISC,

Aus Wiedersehen APISC

Say?nara APISC

Adeus APISC

It’s not you it’s us, but really it’s you, because you can’t even negotiate correctly with the cleaning contractor at a Highschool, typical sports administration move. You can’t even be original in your fuck ups. I’m not crying, it’s windy and I get hayfever. Don’t hug me. Don’t touch me, I’m fine, I’ll be fine.

BASTARD !!!

Well there was much contention and debate as to whether this was in fact a Grand Final (!) or whether it was a losers final 5 v 6. Either way, we’ll take it.

Players: DC, CG, JH, RH, TW, AW, Izzy, Elliot. Arse coach: CB

In the words of MOM, Izzy below:

Grand final night for the nannas and the nerves were high going into this one. Gil set the tone before the match had even started with his one-of-one cape and from there the team was up for the challenge

I kicked off the scoring early on with a simple finish into the side netting to give us a small but convincing lead. But the seemingly friendly opposition didn’t hold back for long and managed to equalise and then grab another to make it 2-1 at half time.

The second half came with the same intensity but a different referee and quickly controversy sparked as Wol’s corner was juggled around on the line by the keeper. Shortly after Gil sent a ball long towards Elliot and, body on the line, he was clobbered in the head, although brutal it managed to draw the referees attention and after a long think and we were rewarded a penalty. Jim stepped up when others seemed timid and slotted it in to level the score at 2-2. With about 8 minutes left to go disaster struck and confusion in the defensive line left their player to sneak it past and take the lead. It seemed like heads were dropping for a moment until a jammy run towards and through the keeper left me with no choose but to go for it with a back heel and thanks to a combination of luck and skill it was all square with just minutes to go. Who else to step up but Gil as after a few Shaolin-like saves he decided to rifle a shot of his own from miles away and the keeper was left rooted to the spot, 4-3! After a couple nerve racking minutes and some attempts at time wasting the whistle finally blew and we’d won it.

A great game ended in a well deserved and hard fought win for the Nannas and some silverware to add to the ever-growing collection.

semi final

namnas v leiutenants

2. V. 1

And…. the MOM goes to

? Gill ?

Thu May 28 2026

score: 2:1

opp: The lieutenants 

notes: 

CB: v.1 g.0 a.0 r.Outfield n.Brown

DC: v.2 g.0 a.0 r.Outfield n.Crooks

CG: v.6 g.0 a.0 r.Keeper n.Gill

RH: v.4 g.1 a.1 r.Outfield n.Captain

TW: v.1 g.0 a.0 r.Supporter n.Taoser ??

AW: v.5 g.1 a.0 r.Outfield n.Wal

R1: v.5 g.0 a.0 r.Outfield n.Izzy

R2: v.0 g.0 a.0 r.Outfield n.Elliot

it really was a tight one. My pride of the Nannas knows mo bounds. Everyone ran back to be where they needed to be.

everyone was cool.

just like Fonzie.

like we were in leather but also little bit tough.

our focus is on the final.

it lies before us.

we are forward ever.
we are the Nannas

3:3 draw against Harchester, sans the Scottish terriors.
Players: CB, DC, CG (1g), JH (1g),, RH, TW (1g), AW.

I must admit I was deep in defence much of the game, and didn’t see/remember the goals.

A haiku for yu:

The draw was a win,
And a longing for not-pub,
Rice, beer, and big laughs.

nannas vs midweek crisis

4:3

rh (ass coach) dc 1 cb tw 1 sb 1 cg 1 jh

the face of the Captain as we came off the field was the brutal truth we had to address. He said, “oh no the nannas have done it again, we have brought shame into our name”

it was a truth but it is also another moment where we learn. Its more about setting wxamples and keeping behaviour upstanding.

standards were lowered last night. The game was amazing we beat the team equal on the top of the ladder and they actually only scored one but we were penalised 2 goals. I mean it was a forfeit game and we all had the points in the bank so there should never have been heightened emotions.

3/3

tk cg dc (ass coach) rh aw tw

sometimes a draw is a win.

we were brown and strong, for so long, for so long.

we didnt lose our lead we let them come to us.

it was an even contest. Sometimes its our place to acknowledge similar steam.

blowing hard together

andy was grilled.

What’s the advice I’ve ignored again…? oh yes, if you want to write a match report, then write it on the night, not like a week later. I didn’t, and as a result, I don’t recall a thing. I think it was a mildly average game, perhaps without clarity I must confess, I accidentally kicked an own goal. Sorry Gill ! Fortunately however, it was a three-way in the MOM hot tub, and so I’m relying on one of the other Moms to recall the actual game, so I’ll focus on the post game Cook.

Tao cooked, and we rolled up at Meine Liebe (pizza). The beers were flowing and the pizzas seemed to take a while. The bases were a little thin, and myself I prefer a puffier edge crust. But people were hungry and they were devoured. The reason for Meine Liebe was so that we could flow into the Northcote Theatre afterwards, for some afro funk and dancing. My first time at the theatre. What a wonderful space, such high curvaceous ceilings. In our enthusiasm we may have had a tequila too many. Rolled home happy at 1am. 

I remember little of the game, except the goal I scored. It was a new and entirely untested manoeuvre into the quiver of countless backdoor triumphs. It was a full impromptu idea, just on my right foot and my boot and the ball all communicating on the fly, bypassing my brain even. Our goalie of that particular night, Joel, threw the ball out, and I was standing in goals, but with my back to the goals, and the ball landed in front of me on the floor, and with my back still to the goals, I back-flicked the ball with a deft twist of my ankle, deflecting its path upwards, and into the goal. I turned around to see what had transpired. Wait what? It actually went in? Oh my, what jubilation. There was some fine flukery in those split second maths trajectory calculations. And certainly that goal seemed to overshadow some of my pure clumsiness elsewhere in the game.

Our first half was a little scratchy, mostly in defence aka possibly me. But we pulled it back in the second half and were gaining. But in the end I think we lost 6-4.

After the game I cooked – out for Pho on Lygon st. It was super delicious and I pretty much flopped out a 7 onto the table. Great night. We squeezed into the photo booth after the game. There was some big smiles.

 

Each thing has its own place, and it must be in that place to fulfill its nature. – Plato

 

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4-6 v Pop City
CB-2, DC-1-MOM, RH-1, TW, AW, SB

There is a defined order to world, especially near the core. But as one diverges from the norm that order begins to fray and crumble. And so it is with the Nannas goal keeping duties. Gill and Kondo are the centre, the nucleus around which concentric valence shells* of lesser electrons swirl, there is Joel in Goal, a mere ring-in but also a dedicated goalie, then there is Third String aka Coach, followed I would suggest by the Captain, then Jim, all noble stand-ins with some actual goal keeping skills. From there it’s a bit of step change, the remaining Nannas being more or less rubbish in varying degrees. And so it was that two of those distant, less gifted electrons, found themselves orbiting the Nannas goal mouth, protected only, and perhaps mistakenly, by the sweaty petro-chemical gloves that one of them had brought. It didn’t end well.

* I know, rather outmoded thinking , refer to fig.1

Nannas vs Harchester United

0         V         6

TW, AW💛, DC (Mom), JH, CG (mom), RH ( ass coach)

no subs, above 30, new recruits, for them, and a new ref who was called the whisperer.

His silence was almost poetic except what he was saying was not poetry . Andy Wong got a yellow. With a new reputation as the hardest of all Nanna’s, with the most shirt off time,  yes even surpassing Chassy who we dearly missed today. We missed his dash and his vim. He has lots of vim to give. We also missed Takeshi today be would have been awesome. His dogged heat we needed. Another Nanna who would have made that 36 minutes feel like only about 27 minutes would have been the Coach. He would have sorted out this two new recruits that slotted into  The Celtic hellraisers. We would have romped it in if we had of had the services of the actual Captain. What we had was a ceremonial spiritual effigy like that was extremely masculine but only on the other side of the line. One Nanna who would have made us fly to see him there would have been the Nanna who looks best in a skivvy, the dapper Guy Fraser.

We were immense today just not on the scoreboard.

Dan was brown, proud and disallowed today, just like his good friend Pete.

the Nannas echo the heroics weekly. Hold your head up men. 25 years is a master slice of something very nice.

 

 

 

 

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4-7 v Sporting Kunst
CB, DC(1,m), CG(ass), RH, TK(gk), AW(1), TW(2,m)

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January 30th, an auspicious day. On this very day, over half a century ago, the world was given a gift, a baby boy, born in rural Aotearoa New Zealand, near the very edge of the international date line, where days first come into being, a wee man popped out of his mama and they named him Ghee, as pure as clarified butter… only the good stuff.

And so it was that the Nannas, to honour the birthing of their erstwhile companion, took to the field. Ordered by number they were trumpeted onto the court by their herald slash arse coach and greeted with much and rapturous applause.

The contest started well, the Nannas playing some fine passing football, running with the ball into space, finding pockets. We were 2-1 up but as is often – not always – but often the case we began to run out of legs just before half time, god damn it. The Ops took the initiative and it was 2-3 at the break*.

My memory is pretty sketchy on the finer details. Tao scored a brace and was hustling like a demon. Takeshi’s distribution was impeccable as always. There were some fine assists from the Chasbenis. Wal scored a goal which I literally have no memory of (hopefully Tao can fill in those blanks in his report) and Rhian and I did some stuff too. Giller stepped into the hollowed role of arse coach with much aplomb and may or may not have captured a few of the goals on his speely captor ( he certainly got a great one of chapsby kicking the ball directly at a kunst’s face without some much as a hint of apology or even recognition, cold!)

Then we went to the new** club house, some of us drank beers (thanks Taoser!), some of us didn’t drink beers, we ate crisps and Rhian also ate a shit sandwich as the first Nanna blocked from voting due to a code violation***. Then we got team photos in the Brunswick photobooth before riding into the night… nice.

 

* may or may not be entirely chronologically accurate
** Tao’s talking it up
*** failure to post a match report

Nannas 4 plays Tortelleni 400 5
Att: DC (Arse), JH (MOM, 2), AW, TW (1), JC, MC, JM (MOM)

The Nannas were asleep for the first five minutes of this match. We really were. I didn’t touch the ball once in those first five minutes—I did get subbed after two minutes—but in those early exchanges the ball went a couple of times to the opposite side of the field, and both times the enemy snaffled it, and scored.

Admittedly, we were a team of three Nannas, three ringers. It’s an old cliche, but it can take years for a group of people to click into a finely tuned team, and on this occasion it seemed like we were far from that.

But that was the first five minutes.

After that we started to find some cohesion and get into the game. They were a lot younger than us (except for Misha). They had foot skills too, sometimes the equal of a Nanna, sometimes not.
What they also had was a fine goalie. In that first half, I must have been one on one with him, or heading toward goal, at least half a dozen times. I couldn’t get it past him. He closed the space down extremely well, and was quick with his hands too.

I am pretty sure we went into half time at least three goals down. We didn’t score one and they got three, that is.

After the break, and a serious talking to by Dan (the Arse Coach Postecoglou), we went at them. I got one off a long throw. I managed to head it into the keeper, who spilled his lollies, and I scooped up the scraps and into the back of the net.

Tao, also finished nicely down the left side (speaking of left sides. I did have many forays down that side, but on this particular evening my crosses were particularly shit. I do remember thinking, especially in the moment, that I had to shoot at every given opportunity, which I did, but we would have been better served with a few more judicious crosses).

We also got another at this point, but I forget who got this third goal. At this point the score was 4-3, and we were really coming, the game was very open, and the contest was up for grabs. That’s when they scored a particularly good goal, struck from well outside the box after a pass to the centre of the court. I did swear.

That should have been it. And it was really. But the Nannas were not finished. A very sumptuous move involving first Misha, then James M, which I finished, put at us 5-4, with about 40 seconds on the clock. We tried to nick the ball, but three quarters of a minutes goes quickly.

Afterwards we went to the Union to talk about class, squats and the practicalities of constructing toilets over showers.

Nannas V Calthorp

2      v       7

TW, JM (1), AW, TP, CB, CG (1)

The most magnificent and beautiful moment came after the match, I mean don’t get me wrong, the match was great. The Nannas were brown and proud yet overpowered by a rather better team. Yet we tried, we hustled and did our thing. Yet they did theirs and were a lot better at doing it. We did hit the scoreboard and not once too but twice. But they hit it a few times. Quite a few times.

The sweetest moment of the whole game came when James the Mercenary lent over to a player from the team of the next game. James lent over him and said, “hey mate, I’m so sorry about last week”.

That person was a small statured young man who took the comment with his chin held high. The reputation of the Nanna’s is once again raised high. Thank you to the Mercenary.

On another positive we found an amazing Korean BBQ joint in east Brunswick. They even made our little vegetarian friend very very happy.

 

NANNAS vs RMIT

4        Vs.       4

RH (1), DC (1), TW (1), TK (1), CG, AW, CB

Tonight will always be remembered as the night Andy touch a massive pianist. Then he saw him play and he was blown away. In fact he had be blown away a little bit earlier when he discovered that the bathrooms at High Note were shared multi sexed bathrooms with open urinals. Andy and Tao seemed to have bladder conditions as I lost count after the third time they slipped away.

the game itself was like a battle of gods.

they had a god whose seemed to be born with a ball and could strike it like Thors hammer ripping into rock, smashing it apart.

We withstood their early barrage and were two goals up at half time. Takeshi taking the Greek and then Hinkly trapping a ball in his milky thighs and swiveling, picking up his dime and delivering.
the second half was marred with controversy after the ref was seen chatting with their players at the break he then ignored an obvious handball that resulted in a goal. 3 more maggotly goals slammed into the back of our net. We were starting down a sad avalanche until San Crooks put his foot down. The first goal of the comeback was awesome but the. Little Tao Weiss became the brown Goliath. He held the ball and pressed forward, the opposition unable to interpret his moves. It was the Tao toe of terror that sent the ball into our goals, restoring Nana pride, yet again.
The Nanas are super cute. We then went to Northcote social club. Where all the Nanas ordered the same dish (steak and chips) all except the bulemic goalie.
Then upper management proceeded to solve one of the earths greatest coding mysteries in order to get the nana voter up and running. A great celebration was held in their honor. It was then that Andy locked eyes with the massive pianist.

Nannas vs Direct Rudboys

6. v.  8

CB2, DC2, TW1(ish), EC1, AW, CG (mom)

wow – it has been a minute. Some say the longest brown break in a decade or two. On Wednesday night The Captain was wondering which nanna would come closest to his maker. Putting my hand up here as it appears that asthma has taken over me in the last fornite. I had to leave mid first half to find an inhaler for good reason. I found that and bobbed back. I also forgot my shorts and so played in a (tastefully tan or shall I say light brown) pair of pants. So maybe this mom is a bit of a mercy mom.

the DRs were pretty handy. One year above El from his high school they certainly could pass and turn and run and shoot and score. The Nannas responded to the initial heavy onslaught from the DRs. We scored in the first half. It was only 1-6 at half time. Things were looking grim. Yet ok.

they were good to play against as in fair and tough. Matching is in our vigour. The second half was a brown avalanche WHICH WE WON!! Some hot hot goals on a muggy evening which was probably best seen by Tao’s toe knuckle hair goal which whisped a ball into goalas their goalie got cocky (by the nuts) and went for a run leaving the goals gaping.

we were really pressing them at the end as they ran out of puff, keeping in mind that as we are in our 24th year of playing that is longer than all of our opposition had been alive. Ever.

The Northcote Social Club took us into their bosom and we suckled on the teat of their sweetness.

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.

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.

 

tight.

“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.

 

 

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report by James Mercer

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

NANNAS vs PANTHERA FC

4.               vs           9

DC1, CB, TW1 , AW (Mom), TK (MOM), CG (mom) 2

We ended with an incredible team goal. We were cheered off by a growing sideline crowd but unfortunately they assumed we were the 9 with how good we looked. It was a long throw to the left side with Rhian heading it back across the goals  for Cocky to tap it in.

Panthera FC are actually our new nemesis RMIT B TEAM who wanted a little more respect than just being a sloppy seconds. THey opened with a roar in the first half. We were a little shell shocked. But we won the second half. THey were 6-0 up in the first half. I camme in my jeans for the start of the second. Sorry Jim, I know you hate it when people come in their jeans, its so uncouth.

ITs always hard after making the finals, the Nannas seems to slump a little. But onwards an upwards gentlemen. Remember we get the country boy back with his BIG LEFT FOOT and his power stance ready to firm us up again.

Dinner proved at the Northcote Social Club and their cheap steak night. Not for the captain’s last match for a while though, he went full Maryland on us all.

 

NANNAS V CALTHORP

0           V.       7

DC, CP, RH, TW, CB, CG (mom)

I FORGOT MY CAPE.

Chassy remembered his Nanna Onesie.

The last customer of the day, after I told him of the impending match 37 minutes before kick off said to me, wow, did you see the episode of Ted Lasso last night? The latest one? No, I hadn’t, he proceeded to tell me of the lowdown and how the keeper in the TV show suffered a really horrible and grotesque broken nose.

Then he left the store with me mouth agape. I stepped onto the court nervous AF with a constant hand hovering over my beak for the whole match.

Playing against a VERY STRONG opposition the match began in a fiery manner. Tao being ragdolled and cock offered then massaged in the chops. No card, no matter. They really really won because they were so young they thought that we were so old that when we joked about our age being 35 they thought that that was so old, and so far from their age, that it might be close to where we are. They really were destined to win this one. We never got close. There was a penalty shot by us but their keeper was pretty goooood. Chassy was an injured nanna and limped off and is still limping today.

We took a group photo at the end together with CALTHORP and wished them well with their ascent to the higher division with the hope of never playing against them again.

The Nannas needed help. We needed familiarity. We were broken men. We went to THE HORN. The tibs, the wot, the kitfo. We back in the food womb. the band BLOW blew us into the happy place we needed to be.

We walked across the road to the appropriately named RUNNER UP bar. I handed over my runner up trophy and he put it on the wall, next to the 15 or so other runner up trophies that had been slung to the way side.

The season felt a lot longer than 15 weeks. The Nannas we brave and brown and were incredible to get were we got. Much love to Carl and Guido and Henry and Jerry, others who had given them selves up to be Nannas.

Congratulations gentlemen on doing what we do. 23 years is a lot of funk and today I feel really sore but proud to be a Nanna.

 

1. The Nannas 5 La Bestia 3

AW RH 1 EC 2 CB 1 TW 1

in an unprecedented dented attempt at vote fixing a pre-report was made…

2 down after 10 mins it was looking ugly, the Nannas were on point but the op had some skills and could stop and turn like really freaking quickly, what they didn’t see though, was the brown avalanche rolling down the mountainside towards them, a 3 goal Nanna lahar smashed them into halftime. The third act saw a mini revival and the scores at 3-3,  tempers were fraying, tackles were getting a bit spicy and the Nannas were on a four foul knifes edge, but a 4th brown goal hustled across the line really upped the ante, the Nannas were defending like their lives depended on it, The Lady Chatterly in particular looked at one point possessed by a small to medium sized demonic force, snapping and biting and snarling… they threw everything at us, to no avail, and then finally, after a number of earlier attempts Elliot glanced in a fifth with his pink-Modric-elastic-banded head… game over!

We went somewhere, the crofters arms? The chaplains loins ? it was a bit shit, which looked bad for Rhian, but he and I did share a jug which was quite special (ps. Andy owes Rhian a pint via me) and we discussed the white lotus and geometrically titled danish films and the socceroos and Elliot had a pineapple and jalapeño margarita just to keep it real.

Then we went home and I poured a VERY deep bath while taking to long to write this pseudo match report on my phone, so I better get MOM, bitches.

 

NANNAS 2 v WEST BRUNSWICK ALBION 4

JH, CG, RH, TW, AW, CB, DC

The day after the match I was standing in the doorway of Northside and Sean Deans a kiwi D&B DJ legend walked past. I told him about the nights before loss and of my sadness, even though I was standing on a rainbow, he said…..”you Aussies are so preoccupied with winning! Congratulations with finishing second, unless of course there were two or three teams in the comp.” “No, there were maybe 8” I said. To which he replied, “Well In that case you guys did really well”

What a pussy I thought as he walked away, happy with second place, happy with losing at the final hurdle, happy to receive the little trophies instead of the slightly bigger ones, happy to know what could have been ours, but we let slip through our fingers.

Everything was in place. Nanettes, flanuses, brown ties, capes and of course police resect. Tao even came with some D’Artagnan meets Game oF Thrones respect that had eyebrows raised. Andy was tall, nearly as tall as Jim. Chest puffed out and READY. Jim was ready but also excited by what lay ahead, his glory. Rhian was practicing his magical leaves before the game, Chassy was striding masculinely and my cape was flapping in the breeze. Dan was erect and ready to play. .

At half time we were ONE to NIL up. Could the unthinkable happen? We were in the drivers seat. We were unsettling the apple cart. We were beginning to dream.

Well the start o the second half was like having a glass of cold water thrown in your face and down you pants at the same time to wake you up. THE DREAM IS OVER. They jumped us and we all slowly woke up with slightly smaller trophies.

Sean Deans is a pussy.

The Nannas vs West Brunswick Albion

4  v  14

CB (1), DC (2), RH (1), TH, TK

tonivht will always be known as the night a truly incredible goal was scored. Not one incredible form of brown brilliance from an individual  but a group movement like a glorious flash mob. We didn’t win the game but we definitely won the right to sleep at night.

The goal was in the top ten of the most brilliantly spiritual goals in the history of the Nannas.

we were bringing the ball up from the backline when we NUTMEGGED 2 of them in a row. First a pass from Chassy to Dan, then. Dan bump to Takeshi. Then he passed it to Rhian who then BACKGEELWD it into goal. That’s right, … it was a DOUBLE NUTMEG BACKHEEL.

one of the most holy of all goals. I was merely walking the sidelines as a coach. But I was bathed in the aura of the moment. I still smile about it now.

 

Vs Ben’s Babes

4-9

CG (mom) RH(1) EC TW (1 TH TK DC (2) – CB (coach) AW (cheerleader)

The Nannas turned up early. I think we have to stop this stretching beforehand. It’s got ruinous results.

the last two weeks the Nannas have stretched out some soft tissue concerns. This week it would appear no different. The goalie limped into his Friday.

The game was signaling poorly early…. the opposition was fast, and clinical. Let’s just say at 1-4 at half time we knew we had a fight on our hands.

The youngest Nanna, this evening, Elliot signaled his intentions very early with a yellow for pure brown aggression within 5 minutes.  It set a precedent early. We played hard but slightly slowly. They moved around us and towards their goal.

ultimately the goalie picked up the ball 9 times from his net but it seems his fellow police respecters admired his pick up styles. The end of game happened and everyone looked at each other as the final whistle blew and gave each other “I wish Jim was here” eyes.

not so much for his on field brilliance but maybe more for his after game care. He was the king of helping chassy dry off after his shower. The boss of loosening toms hamstrings on the side of the court. And of course the lord of the back pat on the walk out of the stadium.

it seems the Nannas will need a bi weekly hand to be put up to give some post match cuddles. Some embryonic hugs, or some supple manipulations, anyone? Andy?

the country sweetness of Jim is sorely missed. We wait for next week excitedly and maybe just maybe we will win. Not this week though. Not this week.

thenpost match we classy, another look at the Retreat and the highlight was Cocky ordering the SpatchCOCK. That’s a lot of cock on a table. Maybe it was a seven at the end.

I left early, it will live in the world of maybe.

the Nannas v Big Kick Enegry

SJG (MOM) 3, DC 3, TW 2, CB, CG, TH. RH (ass coach)

8.  :   2

Slow to start
Nanna’s rubbed against Big Kick Energy seemingly evenly matched.

Top bun had height, a quick turn and sharp right foot.
A few Maradona physiques in their team, but without the same chutzpah, no lo suficiente.

My memory of these moments in a hall in Brunswick at the end of 2019 is like a melting ice cream, ribbons of caramel pool on the pavement, unrecognisable from the cold desirable seconds ago.

Facts like names, chronology, order itself are flimsy raft-boats that appear when the mind sinks into wakefulness from dream state
like a ocean liner whose true story may die with its captain.

This game cleansed me.
I bathed in their tears.
Tears are many things
Water, mucin, lipids, lysozyme, lactoferrin, lipocalin, lacritin, immunoglobulins, glucose, urea, sodium, and potassium.

To say we won is to say I cried.
What did you win, what did you cry.

The compounds of this victory are equally complex and invisible.

I think about covering my body in tattoos
I want to kill the opposition
I am marking the stubby Maradona
There is peace in my heart
My mouth awash with the metallic taste of hemoglobin from the red blood cells.
My life has been wrapped in spreadsheets
Meetings with management
Moving back and forth in a square that neither expands nor contracts
But the game here moves in measured rewards and executions.
Break, turn, pass, run, split, shot, net, goal.
Repeat. Rinse. Repeat.

There is something sad about a wild horse being tamed
A wild stallion, unridable, bucking with all fury of the mountain fires.. worn down by the fences and cowboys rope.. the dust cloud settled to a trotting beast, broken and rideable shaped to mans will.
A well tamed horse is called dead broke horse.

We saw that spirit of the game pushed out.
Around 6-1 the referee put on Bohemian Rhapsody on his sound system..

We are the champions, another one bite the dust or we will rock you all would have been more apt choices from Queen.

The pain of an unanswerable question drives some philosophers to madness and martyrdom.

Why were we the better team?
Entropy.
The emotional transactions of our days.
6 ft above our heads the psycho-spiritual thermodynamics reigned supreme.

But of course, see?

Le Coq looks like a Greek god

Tao means the source of creation

Fish gills take oxygen from out of water
An opposing element, transmuted.
Our Gill plucks the oppositions ball from our goals and thrusts it forth with savage intention.
He slaps it. He drops 90 degrees onto linoleum. The ball is not allowed here, it is against our nature.

I had only this game to rip forth some meaning from the day, so I lean into the wind to fall and die or fly and live. And we flew and we lived

What I mean to say is victory came to us because we beckoned it
We possessed it
Or rather it possessed us
The other team did not want it
We were on fire, violent and creative.
But On our way to victory we destroyed something beautiful in the process
Competition
And it becomes abstract
A demonstration
A amusement ride
The wild horse is gone

A experimental 6 minute rock opera song sung by a flamboyant gay English / Indian man is reduced to a background music for the soccer jock in a hall in Brunswick at the end of 2019.

NANNAS vs BENS BABES

3 v 4

TH, CG, CB, EC, GM, SJG (MOM)

2,000 squeaks and blood blisters to prove it. A masculine badge of linoleum movements. Nanna’s were all heart. Scrappy, passionate and poetic. The other team, let’s call them The Others were economical with their defence and sexless with their attack, but like Germans their progress was methodical and inevitable. They were younger than us, they were faster than us, they were stronger than us but we were honest, more heartfelt and sincere, but sincerity wins nothing and poetry in the gymnasium impresses less, its a game of numbers and grit. Our trophy horse Brazilian Guido trotted, twirled and netted us some swift goals. He was unflappable. Elliot ran with the skeleton of a teenager, his skin holding on as he darted like a weed into the Others field of orange shirts, thin, winding, inevitable and flowering into the net through his doggeded persistence. Chris was like a funky lightning storm, capturing the flashing rain balls with his slap action defences. I wanted to win for Coach I felt that coach was my father He felt everything, saw everything and knew our form missed the dynamo of connection. We chased the game, she never came to our side, flirted with us like a summer flame but extinguished by our existential desperation. But let’s talk about masculinity. The fuel that dripped from The Others curly haired attacking midfielder. Irritable and discontent from first whistle to sulked handshakes, earning a yellow card early and sat at a idling ‘strangle-you-to-death-in-a shallow-pool-of-your-own-blood’ mode for the entire match. I had my own dance with a young fellow toe toucher and shoulder rubber. The referee bless him corrected our dance steps, sought to the tune of his repeated whistles and explanations of the rules in slow threatening tones. We clawed back to 4-3 just before the end, and I think began to believe in ourselves. Located our weaknesses and knew our straight forward truths of the game. We were men who had seen the world, raised children, grown flowers, buried our friends. We knew of life, and this was our strength, the foibles of youth weren’t in our loins no-longer, and we could see their awkward self expressions and need for society’s acceptance. Their fatherhood had not come from the mountain. We had touched the lightning, grown the child, felt the blood of a dark night and spoken to ghosts. For a game is just a war without weapons, a schizophrenic poem of sport. What better way to understand the game than seeing Australia’s greatest jazz pianist collapse his newest compositions in a Brunswick jazz club post match. A Sax player ripping the instrument apart, fragmenting the sound into pure physicality, beyond emotion, into swathes of colour and then just black waves moving into daylight.