2-11 Vs The Bulls

TK[GK] JH DC[1] AW RH TW[1, MOM]

Oh crap. I reckon we need to bring a laptop to the pub from now on and whoever gets mom writes it there and then. I can’t remember shit from last week.

I know we started off pretty well. Keeping the stinking refs goal scoring to a minimum in the first half. Tao scored first blood after some very tasty passing around goals by the Nannas. Dan took the second goal and that was about the last time the ball saw the back of the net for us. That’s not to say the ball didn’t get to see the back of the net a fair bit more just always seemed to be at the wrong end. Second half saw the refs step up and start scoring like we know they can. Even when half their team were screaming at each other all of us couldn’t stop one of their players from scoring.

Should there be an independent ref come in to ref the refs team when we play the refs??

THIS IS A TEST OF THE EMERGENCY MATCH REPORT SYSTEM (Not a test really. This is for real. This is what we’ve trained for.)

Holy sh1t Nannas there i was in my kitchen holding the modem/router going this piece of junk doesn’t fit in the toaster (ie it’s toast), ie the whole friggen internets is gone just up and fvcked off from my bedroom. Then I attempt a remote login, but the server is not recognising me. I’m hacking command line like a lesbian at a rug grooming convention but nothing. (Some of the less poindextrous of the Nannas may be lost about now) I’m right in the citrix kernel of some secure apache server deep under the Nevada desert in an old salt mine, zero’s and one’s just flying by my eyes like some bad hyperspace effect from the 70’s, but nothing. Ixnay on the postskay. What is a Nanna to do when faced with such an obstacle to his sworn duty? Order another mojito and say ‘so it goes’? No! He places upon his head his resourcefulman’s hat and offers up results and not excuses. So hereby goes the match report for last week so that all may see and be satisfied of it’s existence and that it may be posted to it’s rightful place as soon as my internets comes back or I work out what ‘command line’ means.

MATCH REPORT 080228

TK(GK) TH(MOM) DC(1 GOALS) RH TW AW JH

9 – 1 (We went down)

Man you should have been there, it was flippin’ hilarious! Captain rocked up with his right foot hanging on by half a tendon and some matted leg hair going “I’m right to play, really” as though it were naught but a bad Monty Python sketch. Then Cocky the prodigal Rudcock was like, “you’re schtick is weak. I’ve been in the old country too busy to write match reports, because I have been working on a whole bunch of new material that centre’s around sh1t dribbling out of my arse most of the time and then occasionally exploding forth in an hilarious punchline of fecal eruption”. And the Nannas were in agreeance that that was indeed some funny sh1t. The joke’s didn’t stop there, in fact they continued apace onto the field and sustained an uproarious hilarity for the duration of the match.

OK we went down. They avalanched us a bit at the end, and I reckon we were about 4-1 at one stage and not entirely out of contention. Teamwork was not in great evidence. Obviously if I am in contention for the MOM then our stars are not shining so bright. We were beat by a better team on the day who played a heap better than us. That is not to say we cannot beat them. We got a goal and kept our pants and that is something.

vs The Hyderoos 6-4 Win

CB 2, DC 2, AW 1, RH 1, CG, JH, TH

MOM CB

Ah.. the sweet and delicate flavour of victory. The first taste for the mighty brown men in 08. Up against the only other team in the division without a win under their belts, (our old nemesisians ‘The Hyderoos’) winning was crucial and crucially, we won.

CB and DC took a brace each, AW one with a textbook Walmartin Backdoor (invisible until he slotted it), RH one with a midcourt captain’s special net slammer.

We romped ahead to a 4-0 lead in the first half and then a mid-game slackening ensued enabling ‘The Hyderoos’ to pull back four goals and level the scores 4-4.

Hard to believe but true, we kind of dropped to their scrappy level and they clawed their way back to the cliff-top with us. However with a final couple of strokes we dropped them into their own enduring humiliation at the bottom of the table.

vs Bulls lost 11-8

CB 2, DC 3, TW 2, JH 1, AW, RH, TK, TH (Coach)

MOM CB, DC 6 votes

A big old T bone of a game against the rather talented Bulls was perhaps the Nannas finest loss to date (and quite possibly our highest scoring game ever; 19 goals in 36 minutes is more than one goal every 2 minutes).

They were good. They had the Balkan complete with lightspeed accelerant heels, the Salesman who could have sold vocal warm-up techniques to a bunch of deaf-mutes and others with skills and pace to rival the Nannas’ finest.

Did I say we lost? We lost. Can’t remember much else. But you’ve got the essentials.

vs Bulls lost 11-8

CB 2, DC 3, TW 2, JH 1, AW, RH, TK, TH (Coach)

MOM CB, DC

A loss, details of which I can’t really remember. So instead I’m going to tell a touching story of nanna brotherhood.

One night, a few weeks ago, Chas asked if I could help him load an oven he had recently bought on ebay into the back of his camry. The thought did occur to me that it would have to be a fairly tight fit but anyway, the oven was in Port Melbourne and he picked me up at about 8. I was about to walk out the door all free and easy but miri insisted I take the holy trinity of wallet, phone & keys. ok ok. So we’re in the car heading down punt road listening – as most readers would know, chassies movie always has a soundtrack – to a shuffling pod (that being claire’s iPod, the one with chas’s name engraved on the back) and I’m thinking – again – how it’s great to hear kool keith find his way to the top of the random shuffle pile… to be continued

have to leave now for the game, taking an extra set of undies as the pork dumplings i enjoyed earlier today with bozza have consequently induced vomiting and loose bowel movements… joy.

back again, god that was hideous. So anyway, we’re now driving through the city, and I’m vaguely aware that this is a rather indirect route to Port Melbourne. As we pull up at the lights on the corner of William and Collins, Chas looks over and thinks he sees someone who ‘could almost be Thomas’. I’m squinting (yes, i probably should wearing some kind of spectacle) and can just make out a figure at the tram stop who, though unrecognisable at this distance, is sort of leaning on the tram stop in a manner reminiscent of the coach. We hang a right and siddle past. Sure enough it is the coach who jogs down to meet us. Turns out Tom is heading to Elwood to meet George. Of course my first thought is let’s give Thermas a lift but knowing Chas’ general reluctance to deviate too far from his intended path I say nothing but that’s ok ‘cos Tom is doing all the suggesting. Chas is proving hard to convince but finally relents and Tom jumps in. Keen to hear more of Chas’s new ebay purchase I enquire as to the style of the oven, 6 burner , full fuckin’ hosting model, nice, and what brand ? Brand ? No one cares about the brand ! really ? Come on Chas, don’t you want some smeg in your kitchen ? no, no smeg. then what the hell is it, like promax or some dodgy… no no… who cares about brands cocky , jesus … well, ok then.

Half way down Kings Way Tom gets a call. George is now at the Espy, so we can drop him there which isn’t quite as far, is it. Apparently George is going on date and has asked Tom to come along to bolster his cool friend count or provide moral support or some such. Chas is speculating about some kind of bergerac role for Tom, then was some lewid talk involving whispered instructions which I shall not repeat. Though getting late, the sun is still high and St Kilda is doing a fairly passable impression of a groovy urban seaside hangout zone. Pulling up outisde the Espy I start working my charms on Chas, ‘c’mon… just one pot, chassis, c’mon…’. Unbeleivabley my powers of persuassion prove to much for chas and we park in the rock star park. Analysis of the parking meter reveals a cost of $2 an hour or $6 all day, Chas is looking confused and I see why, he has just put $5 in the machine, I mean how long does it take to drink a pot for crisake ? yeha yeah, what was I thinking…

Ok so thi sis where things start to get weird. we walk up the Espy and theres a bouncer at the street level. Tom walks through but the bouncer is unimpressed when we try to follow. “are you here for the gig ?”, err, no we’re just following our friend. Tom is at the top of steps beckoning. So I guess George must be going to this gig, finally we get through and then Tom starts pointing at the gig poster, wild gesticulating, WTF, Dr Octogan !!! ah man, how much would i love to see kool keith, but the oven… there’s no way chas is going to forget that, but he’s walking up to the door.. well ok let’s go and at least look in the door… Now tom has payed and what is this, chas is getting out his wallet, it’s 35 bucks, ther’s no way chas is going to payt $35 for one pot! The Tom says to teh door bitch “surely cocky has his name on the door” ? so she sort of does this cursory flip through and says yeah ?! nice one Tom, I can go halvies with Chas in this cunningly wangled ticket, which makes the post on;ly abou $20 each… but we still won’t see Keith… man this is weird but hey just keep rolling with it. We head to teh bar, I order 3 pots only to realise I don’t have any cash (hell I almost had no wallet), so Tom steps up and orders another 3 by accicdent, so we now have two pots each, madness. We take a seat, I’m kind of spinning out but Tom and Chas seem completely cool with it all, so I just take a sip of my coopers pale ale… and where’s George and his date ?

A couple of swigs later and in strolls Jim ? apparently Elo is having a birthday party of sorts at the espy and so of course it’s no surprise when Rhian walks in. Hell this could almost be a nannas function, ah the automomously self forming good times… if only we didn’t have to get this damn oven. To top it off Rhian says he saw Takeshi outside, of course, Kondo is always at the Espy, and given that Kool Kieth is playing it’s almost logical to have expected he would be here. If only I’d brought some of russian gymnastic training equipment. and what about the oven. “what time do we have to get this oven by chassie ?” “the guy said we had to be there by 10” “sweet…”. At Rhian’s suggestion we move into the pool (strong suggestioning from the captian as usual) where several rounds a winning pool ensue, accompanied by unending jugs. Still no sign of either George or Elo, but no one seems too fussed and then Lou walks in, so of course I have to relay the series of fortuitous coincidences that he has now become a part of. It may be a school night but I’m starting to get pretty largered (or pale aled) by this point.

to be continued… I have to go to the opening of Game On.

Matchday. And the day started like any other. I’m a rituals man. And a believer in feng shui, with my back to the mountain, facing the view. Or the enemy. And i like my rituals. And match day is a big day. I don’t like to drift from the path. I like to progress into the day like any other matchday. Don’t like to shake it up or the earth may open up.

Wake up. It’s Thursday. Bowl of muesli. Matchday I like to eat all day. I know I may not get dinner, so I just like to eat big. And it calms the nerves. No-one wants to fight on an empty stomach. Then Newtown for a blueberry bagel with game. Same Every Thursday. Just carbo-loading from the morning. Shortblack to wash it down.

Struggle through to lunchtime. Then its off to Waiters (club) for a big pasta. Penne calabrese. Tomato base with salami and capsicum. I pick around the capsicum. Another shortblack.

But this is where the day began to unfold. On this particular Thursday I decided to break the ritual and lunch with a friend. Most of my work friends know I’m as stubborn as shit when it comes to my lunch rituals and rules. Can’t eat last night’s leftovers. Can’t eat at the place I ate for lunch the previous day. Must eat pasta on a Thursday. Anyway, I couldn’t be bothered going all dictorial on my friend, and so we lunched in this nice little café (superfino). His choice. Nice little salami flatbread, with a portuguese tart to follow. Shortblack. All very nice. But it really didn’t fill me up the way I like.

And so I went into the game a little underprepared. Sure it didn’t help having only 4 players. And half of those sporting injuries. The prematch contraversy had also thrown the team. The game fell apart and we went down. And there niggling in the back of my mind were the words in large font, “I should have eaten pasta”. But I’ll never know. Was the dark cloud the lack of carbos? I’m a superstitious man.

Was good to ‘chief it up’ postmatch with a big steak, asparagus and mash on the side. Pepper sauce. good to wash away the postmatch aftertaste.

But the highlight was the dessert trip to Jock’s icecream. Pistachio, and Coconut Ginger in a waffle cone. Spirit-lifting.

A dirty lose cleansed by a win for my tastebuds.

The Four

Players RH TH AW JH
MOM RH TH AW JH
Some say there’s no such thing as 100 percent effort, some say that a picture ca never be truly perfect, there is no pefect storm. I say phooey to those guys.

I’ve seen a group of men, as equals stand up and fight with a pride that can only come from 100 percent dedication, 100 percent pain and 100 percent Browness. And when all this comes together you have the unheard of, the unholy, the unbelievable tight MOM four.

A tight MOM four is even hard to type, let alone be a part of. I can’t say it without falling to the floor in a pool of my own excrement and vomiting up blood. It’s so beautiful it’ll tear out your eyes. And I’ve seen it, that’s why I’m blind and dictating this report to a swiss maid who has a surprising amount of stubble and a deep voice but a sweet little hole, in her ear for an earing.

Tight MOM four, I salute you – code word, code word, FOUR, FOUR, MOM FOUR, SALUTE !!!
Captain out

Tip: Do not rely on your memory to write match report after nanna function. It doesn’t work. I remember having a swim. And before that there were some dinosaurs. And a man with a beard. And then a round ball…As always, I only have a very loose recollection of the actual game, and the buffet hasn’t helped.

It had been a tough return for wal. Starting back at work after 4 weeks off for Christmas, overlapping some beachtime with the crooks and brown camps. Hammocks and christmas puddings had taken their toll. That ‘famously’ tight body, was looking a little ‘bouncy’ on the slow-mo replays. but it wasn’t just wal who had ‘let go’.

It was a sluggish game. How I picked up the MOM is still a mystery to me??? But sometimes that’s just the way the math pans out. I think I ran around a lot, up and down…

Court conditions were proving the physics law “the angle of incidence equals the angle of reflection”. The late afternoon sun, blazing in at 2 degrees (to the horizontal), rendered much of the court as a mirror. This meant that taking any passes on the ‘lakeside’ was pretty much blind guess work.

But let me not blame the sun, mother of mothers. It was a sluggish start to our new division. And that was with 3 subs. And for some reason, I can only remember the Gill moves. I remember Gill’s head hitting the floor. I remember then Gill in a push-up position and the ball smashing into his eyeball. Then there was some crazyness where Gill came right out of goals, and danced up the court, ducking and weaving in and out of the glare and shadows, losing the ball, somehow getting it back, crossing the court back and forth. Madness. That’s entertainment.

And then there was the other madness, the other exception to the ‘angle of incidence’ rule. Obviously such rules apply in a vacumn, free of friction and magic. And it was Chas who defied the rule. It doesn’t account for spin. Chas kicked the ball from the corner at about 88 degrees. It hit the post. Rolled around the goalie, who was frozen by this madness. Walked slowly along the line, teasing time. And then curled in. Goal! Un-be-lieve-a-ble.

The rest of the game was a rather uneventful (from my perspective). Thomas fronted up, despite an injury from the week before. Chas danced the dance, and popped the first goal (unseen from my perspective, and I wish I could remember who assisted. sorry). Even Taoza could barely muster a tantrum. The Cap-i-tan was there. He could not have forseen that a few hours later he would wake up in the nude on the bathroom floor. Crooks, ever graceful, but who had some issues with passes. And Jim, who also had mutual issues with passing. And the cheersquad, always appreciated, courtesy of the Crooks Ransom posse. And there was some off-field umpiring disputes, led by Crooks, and reined in by Coach.

We lost 5-2. Hughness left Melbourne. I lost $15 at poker. I lost arm wrestling. And after a solo smorgasboard, Heath, a cowboy who represented much nanna ethos, camping, and sharing a tent together on a cold night, departed our world. It was a low week for reality.

But the lows make the highs higher.

3-2 vs Some guys 15 years younger than us.
CB(0), JH(0), AW(0), DC(1), CG(1), RH(0), TW(1)

What a night, what a game, what a way to end the year. A nice little kick around on the back turf, Wesley Old Boys know what I mean, then a confusing moment when Dan tried to explain his well thought out and beautifully laid out plan of attack. I think we may have even kept to it on the odd occasion.

The Nanna’s started off well and finished even better. Jim managed to not give away any goals and that was a great help. Though Dan tried to help the other team with a near own goal. Tao managed, what was called the goal of the Season (possibly the year), to volley the ball past 2 of their players plus the goalie leaving him just looking straight ahead as the ball dribbled back past him from behind as it came back off the net. But enough about that goal.

As for the rest of the game I may need to get the dvd release when Takeshi gets it out as it’s a bit of a blur as to the order of things. I know they got a couple of goals and then Dan pushed one to the back of the net. I could be wrong but I think Gilla the Gorilla with the mighty through from the back line put so much spin on that ball that the other goalie didn’t have a chance of holding onto it and fumbled it through for an own goal rightfully given as a goal to the goalies goalie Chris Gill.

Well done Nannas. We are Proud and very Brown.

loopOutDuration(type = “cycle”, duration = 24)

NANNAS versus THE ANNUALS

3 : 3  (penalties T.A. 1out of 5 versus Nanna 2 out of 2)

AW. RH. DC. JH (1 PLUS AN OG). CG. (1 – OG?) TW(1). CB. COACH TH

MOM: CG

I should have taken notes….

What started out as a cocky stroll into Tao and Tom’s old school became a farce of epic proportions. Although they beat us last week, for some silly reason we THOUGHT we were several leagues ahead of them….IN THE PAST PERHAPS LADIES!!!

We started with a master play by the coach as he subbed on Tao and within ten seconds of the sub he scored. This is why Thomas earned his mom vote! We were strutting, thinking. by how far??? Then disaster struck, from a corner they took, Jim was caught out looking at their defenders slim hips and hence popped a load(ed ball into the net) (ouch!)

They scored another one before half time and one of their Annual warriors started to go in a bit hard. This caused the usually extremely zen goalie to get ANGRY. I believe there was a hand to the face…. he deserved it.

The second half started with handshakes and love, but not the way we planned it. They got another one and it seemed as though, the unbeliveable was about to happen. Goalie goal time. From a throw (with lots of side spin on it) game a glimmer. Then Jim slammed home a beast from the middle court region. 3 all now.
Goalie then put in a Beckham like cross from the  back side line and Dan  Le Coq headed in his first  ever goal – BROWN PROUD BUT DISALLOWED!!!  Can we check to seee if Pete  Circuit  had his unborn at this moment in time.
PENALTIES……5 each (in a row)

Nanna keeper saved all but one goal….some of these are available captured on film and a limited run will be signed….

Two Nanna warriors stepped up and slotted home the defining  moments that we presumed would eventuate, too bad it nearly didn’t.

The nannas will have to do a little soul searching this week to be able to face the other finalists, but I believe any team that has as much respect as the nannas is a sure thing.

The night was rather hazy post match…..Something about dancing like sweaty confetti and hanging out around the KUM DEN….posing for our front cover shots and …who knows…..

5-6 vs The Annuals.
CB(1), JH(1), TH(1), RH(0), AW(0), TK(0), TW(2, MOM)

It was a tit for tat kind of game against the not so mighty Annuals. Unfortunately it was the back line that let us down in this occasion. Tao let one get past him but brought it back with a couple of nice goals. One with a ripper pass from CB from the side line. JH kicked a classic JH goal from the LHS but may have been responsible for about 3 goals to the other team. Chas kicked a lovely goal also but it was all in vain as the annuals had as fare and square. Possibly giving them their first win of the season??

the nannas never stop training – 7.20 am sunday morning…