Match Report 20130306

Dave, RH, DC, TW, AW, Arnaud (MOM)

vs Men in Black (again due to yet another forfeit)

Mauvais timing


« L’heure, c’est l’heure ; avant l’heure c’est pas l’heure, après l’heure  c’est plus l’heure » aurait dit Jules Jouy après cette deuxième défaite consécutive enregistrée par les Nanas.

 

J’avais l’honneur de me joindre  à vous pour la seconde fois, et j’espérais que cette fois ci aboutirai sur une victoire. Il était 20h30 ;, nous nous étions échauffés à bloque sur le parking pendant 20 bonnes minutes, nous menions par 4 ou 5 buts d’avance, le ballon circulait bien et tout le monde y était allé de son petit but. Comment imaginer alors que cette soirée se soit terminée par une défaite ??!

 

Des explications s’imposent : dans un premier temps on nous a avertis que nos adversaires initialement prévus s’étaient lâchement défilés et que par conséquent nous n’avions  personne pour se mesurer à nous. Ensuite, on nous a fait savoir que si on attendait une demi heure on pourrait probablement rencontrer les mêmes adversaires que la semaine précédente (cf. l’équipe du jeune petit gros qui se créer des espaces avec ses coudes…). Nous étions prêts à en découdre lorsque quelques joueurs venant de terminer leur rencontre ont proposé un match amical en attendant les autres. On a tout donné et on les a littéralement massacrés. Grave erreur car lorsqu’il a fallu faire la seconde rencontre, on avait plus assez d’énergie pour se venger de l’affront subit la semaine précédente ! Résultat, on a raté pas mal d’occasions et on a pris des buts un peu idiots. Avec un timing différent, il est certain que le petit gros aurait eu des raisons valables pour exprimer son mécontentement comme il l’a fait pendant tout le match ; ce qui ne nous a pas empêchés de lui serrer la main tout en le gratifiant d’un « good game » ! Merci pour l’accueil les amis !

 

And for those that don’t read French here is a google translation:

bad timing
“The hour is the hour before the time is not time after time it’s time” would have said Jules Jouy after second straight loss recorded by Nanas.

I had the honor to join you for the second time , and I hoped that this time aboutirai a victory . It was 20:30 , we were warmed to block the parking lot for a good 20 minutes , we were leading by 4 or 5 goals ahead , the ball was traveling well and everyone went there for his little purpose . How then imagine that this evening had ended in defeat ? !

Explanations are needed : first time we were aware that our opponents had originally planned parades loose and therefore we had no one to compete with us. Then we were informed that if we waited half an hour we could probably meet the same opponents the previous week (see the little fat young team that create space with his elbows … ) . We were ready to fight when some players just finished their meeting proposed a friendly match waiting for the others . We gave everything and were literally massacred. Serious error because when it came to the second meeting , we had enough energy to avenge the affront suffered the previous week ! Result , we missed a lot of opportunities and we took a little silly goals . With different timing, it is certain that the little fat would have been valid reasons to express his displeasure as he did throughout the game , which does not stop us to shake his hand while the rewarding of a ” good game “! Thank you for the welcome friends !

Match Report 2014_02_27

vs Men in Black (lost 4-7)
CB 1, DC 2, RH 1, AW, TH, CG(gk)

Birthday week.
Not just me.
Paul, Fiona, Me, Alice, Jim.
Consecutively.

Anyway. I drove. Picked up the tropical coq and ventured through the industrial badlands of Outer Coburg to the shiny new venue. Hells yeah! Soft and slippery that vinyl. The viewers are a little removed from the action lending a more gladiatorial feel to the court. Just players and the ref. Not even subs on court unless subbing.

So we were up against the Men in Black. A couple of them are as young as they are portly. One of them is as old as a Nanna, while looking older than a Nanna (though he did manage to outsprint this Nanna down the wing and score). For the record, dude is 43.

Ref blows his whistle. Men in Black kick off. It’s on. It’s nil all. For quite a while. Then they get a goal. Then Gill tries to rearrange his nut sack and inadvertently pulls his calf. Full flagellation of the veal. He’s whimpering. He’s limping. Wait! He’s doing a zomby impression. Or is it a new dance? The Nannas avert their collective eyeballs. It’s embarrassing. Or is it? Is it funk that is so deep, so raw and so nu that it can’t be perceived yet? The forward funk? The future of the forward?

Umm, no. None of the above. Giller is actually injured. He leaves the court. Nannas are down to 5. Coach steps into the goals. We concede more goals. Then we get some. I pass it to Cocky and he finishes it cleaner than a box of dishwashing powder. Cocky passes it to me and I get a delicate little whisper of a shadow of a flicker of a touch to the ball and it goes in! Oui! Oui! Oui! There was another goal and another and you know what? The scoreline is 4-5 to them. It’s close, very close. Close like Glenn. But then. Oh then. Dang it to the very rim of the anus of Fiona Craig’s cow Lola; they scored two more goals. 4-7. Men in Black have rinsed the final chunks of faecal matter from their collectively victorious bowel with the brown cleansing enema fluid of Nanna defeat.

So then we took it to the local. The Post Office Hotel. Wagyu burgers all round. Apart from Tom who was having too much fun and decided to bring it down a notch by having a blackbean burger. And Gill who was delirious, thought he was at the Embassy and ordered a ham and cheese sandwich. And Cocky who needed the belly of the pig. All washed down with Coburg lager. True.

But later. The next night. The real Nanna A took it to the forum to see Steve. And then to Mr Melville to have hugs with Steve and let him suck the vape. Cocky had the first lips-on-vape after Steve so he pretty much kissed Flylo. But I hugged him. Shio took us there. She is part of Nanna A now. Best gig this year fools! If not ever!!

Peace out>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>Bitch.

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.

Match report 5-12-13

Nannas 9 plays Men in Black 6

Attendance: CB (1), GF, CG (1), JH (MOM, 2), RH (3), TW (2)

The night started with beer. Guy Fraser is going away (in case you don’t know), so him and me went to some little bar in the city to meet other RMIT-ers to talk about Web Services and some of the other people he had to work with. The discussion was lively, and many a regret was shared that Guy was leaving RMIT and Melbourne.

Anyhow, then we trained it to the Preston and got there just in time to find the gate locked. While trying to figure out how to get in we sized up the opposition.  They seemed one part old, too parts fat and the last part way too young. But first appearances are often deceiving and so it was on this occasion. The old dude, even though he did have a ciggy just before he came on court, had some moves and a shot on him. The two young fat guys were pretty good also (why is it that dudes who are top heavy always seem to have a low centre of gravity?). And the young guy? He didn’t play.

Anyway, so we got into it. They got a couple in that first stanza but the Nannas were always on top. Gilla got possibly the goal of the match, with a long shot that had more dip on it than a cracker at a early evening boozy BBQ. I slotted two, one from a Captainly pass and another from a long ball again from that man our keeper. I think Chassy got the fourth to round out the half, and we took it to the sheds with a 4-2 lead (Gill and Chassy had a little tete a tete at half time, which although I didn’t see, I did hear about post match. Apparently offence was taken after one teammate told another to play the percentages. On the face of it, this doesn’t seem an unreasonable request [especially since the guilty party is a bit trigger happy in his low percentage play] but obviously the aggrieved party took it in the wrong spirit. I feel for him).

Then to the second half, and as so often happens they came at us early in that interval. If the truth be told we gave them every opportunity, as we coughed up the ball time and again. Sure we did get an early goal (I think I miss kicked it to the Captain who was on hand for the simplest of tap ins) but they got a couple and were just about to get a third when Guy Fraser, four beers in him and all, stepped up and put his mark on the game.

It was a pivotal moment. If they had of scored, it would have been five all, and they would have had all the momentum going into those last ten to twelve minutes. This is how it went down. Gilla was off his line. The ball got past him and was heading for the back of the net. Tao was on hand but couldn’t quite manage to clear it: he was falling, he was trying to coordinate his body to get a foot to it to boof it clear. And then from no-where, like Maverick coming out of the sun going head to head with a commy to save Ice Man’s pearly white arse, Fraser came to the rescue of the Nannas. No one knows where he came from, how he read the play to get himself into that position to make such a stunning goal line clearance, but there he was with those size 13s doing the business.

From there we steadied, scoring four more before the final whistle. The Captain’s header (patented Nanna sucker punch) was the most memorable of these (or the one that I remember). They got two very late but by then the game was over. The only other thing to mention is the Captain’s shoulder charge, which almost caused a fight on court. Sure it was an accident and not really his fault, but you can see why the opposition were a bit upset about it: he really did smash the guy.

After that, we went to Guy’s for bad pizza and possibly the best choice for a Nanna movie ever. If you weren’t there, all I can say is you missed out: never has the rapture been so well represented on the big screen.

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 !

Match Report 2013_11_07

vs Coconut Soldiers
won 13-12 (on aggregate and after extra time)
score 8-10 (for the single game)

TW 1, RH 3, TH(GK), CB 1, DH 3
CB MOM

First, we didn’t think we had a team. For a final! This beggars belief. Once upon a slice of time there were an abundance of mighty Nan-men tendering their good qualities to upper management for the chance of making the hallowed company of the magnificent seven. But now we don’t even have five starters. Then mighty D-HEN stood up so tall he put a hole in the roof of Carolina.

Second, I put my hand up to play goalie due to my unmentionable genua. It was a desperate situation, I had no choice. Then old man T-HO gets on the blower and pours all manner of sweet nothings, slippery commendations and honeyed words into my ear. The upshot was: “you’re not playing keeper son”.

Third, Tao and I are upstairs getting changed. Kamahl asks to join the Nannas. He says he finds our teamwork inspiring and he just hopes that he can be as….

Match report 31/10/13

Nannas 5 play Coconut soldiers 2

Attendance: GF 1, CG (keeper)2, RH, TH 2, AW, TW CB(ass coach) (I have no idea who got the goals, is this right?)
Virtual attendance: DC (skype)

MOM: GF

The ladder has gone J.L. Borgesian, with nannas crusing down parallel universal freeways, playing the same team, again and again, in endless semi semi finals.
It has begun. We’ll be playing Coconut Soldiers each week from now on for eternity. And we’re all slowly waking up to that fact.
But when you think about it, it’s a pretty good way to spend eternity (and all because some failed player in the Balkans sold his soul to the devil and this was one of his bizarre wishes, but that’s another story).
I think this was the first time, the first time we played the Coconut Soldiers in the semi semi, but we could literally have already played them dozens of times and I probably wouldn’t remember this until years later (like the recurring opening credits to First Blood dream I keep having, where I’m Rambo and I’m coming home).
This may have been the first semi semi though, lets pretend that it was.
We came out strong and dominated the entire game. Andy showed a lot of vigour out there. Tao showed passion. Hinkley and Tom working the field like a couple of grunts digging trenches as the shells are falling. Gilla went a little whacko and got a couple of yellow cards but he looked like he was loving every minute of it. The new ref sorta reminded me of Baklie off Perfect Strangers. In an insane parallel universe infinity maze, his straightness was like a cucumber slices laid out on the mind. My girlfriend was there, and I was elated to score a goal from a quick pivot turn in front of her eyes. I can’t remember shit about the game apart from that, but there’ll be more. There’ll be plenty more.
We did good, we did real good. One of the strongest starts to infinity season one could hope for.

Match report 18/10/13

Nannas 8 play Coconut soldiers 8

Attendance: CB 1, GF 3, JH 5, RH, TH (keeper)

MOM: JH

We almost had ‘em Nannas. We were close, very close. Had one or two things gone our way, or one or two things gone against them (especially in those last minutes), victory would have been ours and ours alone.

Yet, a draw wasn’t a bad result given how well they started. Within a couple of minutes they had scored twice, and then soon after that they put in a couple more. Tommy did get caught in goals once, but they were quick, and if you gave them half a chance (which I did for their first) they were good at putting them away.

But there was a sense that we weren’t out of it. Even though they went four up within about ten minutes, we were in the game. We were getting heaps of ball and they were letting us have heaps of time and space on it. There were three or four times in that opening stanza when we were running at them and they kept backing off, almost inviting us to shoot, which we did, but couldn’t make it count.

Then we got one. Tommy threw the long ball, which I got my head to and the deflection snuck under their keeper. Then we got another, as the Captain got the ball from a quick side kick in (after the ref penalised them for a slow re-start, which he would do a few more times throughout the match). The Captain and I only had the keeper to beat, which we did (even though I almost fucked it, getting the ball caught under my feet). Half time 4-2.

The second half was much more open. They kept coming at us but we came at them too, and for the most part they came off second best (most of their goals in that second half came from long throws).

The tight five was really working for us on this evening. Maybe because it was the A team. Special mention goes first to Chassy. Yes, he was playing on no knees, hobbling around the court like an old man, he usual speed and verve visibly reduced but he still managed to play the anchor role, cutting off passes in the middle of the park and distributing nicely up the court. Fraser also gets a mention, not only for his committed running but for his positional play up front. The big man has now worked out where to put himself to make the most of his hulking frame and as a result the goals are coming. The Captain too deserves mention. He planted himself in the middle of the park and was integral to most of what the Nannas did. It’s strange with the Captain because I only remember bit and pieces of his involvement or him playing at all (maybe that’s why he go so few MOM votes) but from what I do remember he played well.  Last but not least is Tommy. He again proved that his case to be our number one is very strong, not just for his stopping ability but also his distribution. We were getting heaps of ball and it was all quality.

So, pretty soon the goals were coming thick and fast, and pretty soon after that we had parity, with seven a piece. And then, with about a three or four minutes left on the clock I was loitering in front of their goal on a side kick in and then I stepped out to the left. No one picked me up. Chassy, who saw the opening, fed me the ball; the keeper, sensing the danger, came at me; I, with only one thing on my mind, slotted it under him. 8-7, we were in front for the first time in the game.

After that they came at us and came at us again. We repelled most of their assaults but then they got a corner. They played it in to the middle and the ball bobbled around a bit. Chassy and Ghee were on hand but couldn’t quite get close to it, as the enemy repeatedly pinged at goal and after about four goes, they finally managed to put it away. 8-8.

There was about forty seconds remaining when we kicked off again and somehow the Captain and I found ourselves down the left hand side. Captain got tackled and the ball spilled to me. I lined up, I shot but it went across the face just as the hooter went. 8-8.

Now, there is a little matter of how many goals we scored. I am very sure I got five, Ghee is totally sure he got three and Chassy is claiming the one. There were a couple of times in the match when the ref did get the score mixed up, awarding goals to the wrong team. Did we get shafted?

Match report 10/10/13

Nannas 2 play One hit wonders 5

Attendance: GF, CG (yellow card), JH, TK, TW, Arnaud

MOM: CG, JH

It’s tough being a Nanna these days. It’s true we are not the force we once were. It’s also true that we can hardly scrape together a team. The word was put out on the Flurry that this could be the last season we play indoor, and while there a couple of people who were emphatic in shouting this down, there was also an eerie silence from those who used to like to call themselves upper management.

No one knows why the Coach didn’t play but he did turn up immediately after the game to go see a movie with his Brown brothers (at least that’s something). Cocky was in Adelaide and Andy omitted himself due to family commitments (he can be excused after his heroics of the previous weeks). But what of Captain and Chassy? There has been a rumour going around that Chassy is in the permanently injured camp (something about cartilage and knees), while the Captain it was said was out to a play (really?).

However, given all that, the Nannas were okay on this evening. Sure we got beat but it wasn’t all bad. We got out to an early lead courtesy of two goalie long throws: one their keeper turned into his own goal; the other, I slammed home after their keeper again made a mess of it.

From there it looked like we might go on and rack up a score but that only lasted for a minute or so. We lived off scraps: we didn’t hold the ball all that well when we had it, and we never had it all that often.

Our opponents were pretty good, it has to be said. They held the ball well, they shut us down well, they shot well (although Gilla did save well) and well, they were just better than us.

After our early lead, they put five past us, although one was a gift from Gilla who got trapped with the ball close to his own goal.

I thought our ring in was going to provide us with more (after seeing him warm up), but he did say after the game that he hasn’t played in almost a year, after suffering a stroke just before that.

I also thought Tao might slot home a few, after his form from a couple of weeks back, but he really didn’t see that much ball. Guy Fraser was also keen to get on the scoresheet after he told his woman he would get one for her but even he couldn’t manage it.

And then there was the small matter of Gilla getting up the ref. Some people think he’s good but I’m sorry, I am not one of them. He misses a lot (not to mention a goal, which Gilla did score). Having said that, it is not a good idea to berate him, as it only makes him hate you.

MATCH REPORT 10/10/13

Nannas 2 vs Spartans 5

TW, GF, JH (mom) 1, TK, CG (mom) 1, Arnaud,

There was a dead bird lying on the ground under the porch as we approached the Preston Girls High School. A pidgeon.

The Spartans were that, undermaned, lean and hungry. They came with a wry smile. We were thinking about the bird. The dead bird. We also had a frenchman among us, Arnaud. He was a friend of Takeshi and a great footballer. This seemed to be enough as we were sudddenly up 2 nil. Things were looking good, then all of a sudden, in the blink of an eye, they got a triple and we were scratching heads.

I got shitty with the ref as the gap got wider and we got a little out of touch as another goal became 5-2. That didn’t help. We fought on but they were rather good at holding onto the ball and won out convincing winners. We fought well, but they were all good, with two guys particularily good.

As we skulked outside, past the dead bird, a figure shuffled up. The lurking coach in the shadows. How long had he been there, no one really knew. He said he just turned up, but we couldn’t have been sure. He had a peaked cap that shielded his eyes.

He went off with Fraser and Tao in search of gravity as Jim and Takeshi went home.

MATCH REPORT 2013_09_26

GF(1), CG, RH(3(MOM)), AW, TW(4(MOM), JH(1)

Win 9-3 Vs One Hit Wonders
Nanna’s gone mad!! What a night, what a win!!
Started off with a bunch of old dudes looking like they’d be lucky to crawl onto the court. Yep I do mean us. The ref and I had a bit of a pre game chat, as he likes to do. He asked me why I was mouthing off at the guy 2 games ago (Not being there last week he held onto this question for quite some time). I explained the situation and he took it well. Then had his little whinge about how some of the other teams are mean to him and write emails to the bosses about him during the week. Not very nice. He then pointed to this particular team we were to play on this night and said, with a little frown on his forehead and possibly a little tear in his eye, he said they were the biggest offenders of the before mentioned emails.
Not that I think he was particularly favourable to us but the ref certainly wasn’t doing the opposition any favours. Neither were they doing themselves any. They fell apart at every attempt to move forward and our defence was strong. the strongest I have seen in the long time. While most games require the mega saves from Gilla just to help us not lose by so much, on this particular night I think we saved Gilla’s hip from the pounding it has been receiving recently. Not to say there weren’t still some great saves on the night.
Some other commendations must go out to Andy for some tight defence, Rhian for some great goals, Ghee for his lovely little dance around the goalie to put one in himself and lastly Jim for the take that and shove it up you rectum cause I just rubbed your face in it with one last goal of the head into the back of the net. And that couldn’t of happened without the strong arm long throw specialist that is the Funky Nanna.
Thank you and goodnight.

19 Sept 2013: The greatest ever Nanna loss

Nannas 6 play FD United 7
Attendees: DC, GF (2), CG (2), JH (2), DAVE
MOM: CG, JH

So here I was, a little bit high, a little bit out of breath, a little bit what the fuck do we do now? Cocky, in going for a run up the middle, got his fucked foot stomped on. He was straight off with a, ‘Sorry Nannas, I am out.’

At the time, I thought was a fucking soft cock (after the game it did look pretty bad) and started doing permutations in my head: our four players, they had six; there were still thirty-odd minutes on the clock; they were one goal up; Ghee and I were super high; Dave and Gilla are good but not that good.

The opposition weren’t great. Sure, they had some nice foot skills and they were up for it: being more pushy and aggressive than America in the eighties. Yet, they had a bad habit of shooting from range, instead of taking us on or passing through us. They shot and they shot and they shot some more, but it was all from outside our defensive ring, and Gilla swallowed them up every time. And their one big failing was their keeper, because in that first half we kept scoring against him. Gilla forced a couple of long ones, I got one on the turn, and Ghee tapped home from close range from a side kick in. These last two goals were things of beauty, even if I do say so myself. We went 4-1 up early in the first half.

I think they go one back before half time (my recollection is fuzzy on this, it could have been two). I do remember Gilla on the ground entangled with one of the opposition fighting over the ball in the goal mouth. I thought Gilla had won the fight but in the end he lost and the ref (who, in my opinion at least, was favouring the other side) gave the goal, when it really should have been a foul.

Anyway, we stepped on court for the second half to Ghee saying something like, ‘if we win this we will be heroes.’ He meant it as a pep talk but Dave and I promptly told him to shut up (sorry Gheezer).

The second half was different to the first in that we didn’t get as much ball and the novelty of playing four on five had worn off. What’s more, we were starting to tire, and Gilla was throwing more and more of the ball away. He did tell us at half time that our only hope was to hit them with the sucker punch. I couldn’t quite work out if he was defending his long ball tactics, or if he was forewarning us of what he was going to do in the second half but it mattered little: I was too addled to argue.

For most of that half, we defended, defended, and then defended some more. It was working pretty well. We weren’t marking up but more marking the space, putting our number of three between them and goal. They did get through us a couple of times and I mis-kicked a corner that went straight to one of them, who only had Gilla to beat, but for the most part we frustrated them. It went to 6-4.

And then, just as it looked like we were go to go down, Gilla’s long throw strategy gave birth to a goal, and I forced another from their culpable keeper from a side kick in. He really was shit. So here we were, five minutes to go at 6-6. We were feeling pretty confident: our defence was working, another goal was on the cards, and if we won this thing or least drew it, which looked likely, we truly would be heroes.

Then with thirty seconds they got a corner. They passed to the little guy with the moves. He got through Dave and Ghee. I confronted him, and he went to my left but I couldn’t get close enough to him. He shot. Gilla got his hands to it but couldn’t turn it aside. The final whistle blew. 7-6.

After, on the car ride back to dinner, we discussed the crumbling of the Nannas, how long we would last (about a month most said) and what happened to the commitment to the Brown cause. It was widely agreed that the Nannas were now something we did only if we didn’t have anything else on. And then Cocky cried, and we all cried with him.

Match Report 2013_09_05

vs Club M
lost 3-7
TH (GK), CB 1, TW, RH 2, DH, DC (ass coach)
MOM CB/TH

This week’s flurry, aka Farting Like Unicorns Rimming on Rhian’s Yacht numbered some 70 replies and was viewed 203 times. With only 4 Nannas available to play we were lucky to have Carolina’s Dave Henderson put his fatherly duties to one side and come to our aid.

Club M are a big team. Physically superior, skilful, cohesive and to top it all off fully freaking francophone. The Nannas might have been running on empty but they stepped up big time and played well out of their skins. Solid marking, tight defence and unflappable composure kept the score a respectable 2-1 to Club M by half-time.

DH was excellent on the intercept and his passing on the offensive baseline was well frosty. DC was in attendance and was phenomenal in his role as ass coach. The Nannas’ goals all came from the calm zone. Two of them were the product of a sequence of passes back and forth across the court, leaving the Club M goalie out of position for the silky tap in by RH. The writer’s goal was a kick from the side. He thought to himself, ‘boot the crap out of it towards the goal and hope for the best’. Then he thought, ‘no, you’ve been doing that all game and it hasn’t worked.. try fast and accurate, toward the back post’. It worked. Deflection off the inner calf of one of the M’s.

So they got a few more goals but they had to work for them. Tommy “3rd string” Howie showed just how deep the Goalkeeping talent runs in the Nanna squad. Transcendentally deep man!

The aprés action was to be had deep in the dimly lit recesses of Joe’s Shoe Store. An oldie but a goodie. The pilseners tasted real good and Sebastian was keeping bar which always adds to the ambience. TH didn’t make it for the aprés as he had to rescue Eve from the feds.

GF stayed home to fold his undies but being the relaxed fella that he is, he was quite ok with louchely tossing his panties unfolded into his valise.

Looking forward to joint ass coaching with DC this week and welcoming big JH back from his country hiatus.

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 22nd 2013

Goals CB 2 CG 1 MOM RH against table leaders?

What happens when an unstoppable force meets an immovable object?

I’ll tell you what happens, the unstoppable force does really well for the first half and then falters a little until the immovable object wears the force down and it is rendered stoppable and theneventually stops and then after a while actually starts to move back in the opposite direction, making it an unstoppable force once again – but in reverse.
Except
There is no right direction in space so even thought the unstoppable force has bounced off an immovable object and was, for an instant, stationary, it is now moving again and ready to blunder throught the universe with nothing able to stop it, because it is now travelling away from the immovable object.
So we owe a great debt to the punks that beat us because now we are once again travelling at great speed.

The game itself was tight and hard, an oxymoron, or perhaps a slice of perfection.

Chassey cut them up with fine running through the middle, Gilla scored a classic, I say a classic keepers goal with the mighty left, cocky showed why he is the coach of the new millenium and
A NEW NANNA WAS BORN.

that is right, Matt, the worlds unfittest man played for the Nannas, never has a ref showed so little ball skills.

He is not part of the unstoppable force

 

Match report – August 8th 2013 – part two

To nanna

The Nannas first birthed a colour
A child from the union of man and sport
That colour then birthed a team.
Ten children bound by one colour.
The Nannas now birth a word.

And one night did bring this word forth.
One night of unholy union.
One night so bright, so strong, so powerful.
That it split a noun in two.
The night that split a noun.
The night that birthed a verb.
A word to convey an action.
The night that defined what it is.
to nanna

When shards of frozen steam dive downwards from the heavens
When blood boils from every pore
When the screams of the last ever death have long since been silenced .
When hope has been buried in Hades beneath the rotting corpse of dreams
When the sun has devoured the earth and the moon and the stars
When all traces of light have been removed from the universe.
Then and only then
Will Nannas stop running.

And until that day
All Nannas will nanna.

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 13.08.01

Loss 3-10 to United

GF, RH 1, aw 1, TK (g), TW 1
On arrival we were warned that the ref had been DP’d by the previous teams and the Nannas were told to keep it cool or suffer the consequences. And we did keep our cool as did they.
There were some great goals from Wal goal storming down middle and slotting one in from a pass. In the last seconds of the first half Taoser goals from half way line off line kick coming off the goalie…….. Nice. And finally the captain slammed a great goal from seriously tight angle.
Unfortunately these 3 goals were not enough but the final score certainly didn’t reflect the team play that went on that night. Very commendable performance.

Match Report 2013_06_27

7-8 Loss to The Fatties

RH(4), Dave ((1)Ring In), ES ((G) Ring In), GF, GS (WOM), TW (2)

The following post is written by the Woman Of the Match Grace Sims.

Pressure! So much pressure.

It is a mighty day in Nanna history, let me start from the very beginning…

Sitting there on the train listening to two old guys chat about the recent changes in politics, boring as pig shit! I receive a phone call of a magic dog who vanished from one property to another with no sign of entry or exit.. “by the way your filling in for the Nannas tonight”. SHIT! I am of the female variety so this is a huge request. Vaginas on the Nannas team is UNHEARD of.

So, the magic vanishing dog, Sims (the other pressured ring-in), the small dabi giving child, T-Dog, Gee and myself venture out into the night for this most epic adventure.

Mixed emotions as we step out to warm up.. the Fattys look… skinny and good! Low expectations can only get better right? Sims is getting the hang of things in goal. Apparently the only person willing to step foot in that god forsaken box of doom. Polite introductions from the long standing Nannas who are certain that this game is already lost but at least they got out of the house for a night… The Game begins. Not a great 1st minute however a striking 2nd minute goal by the almighty Nannas! Maybe its not going to be as bad as we all thought.

WAIT! I’m going to bloody die! I’m pretty sure there are daggers in my lungs and T-Dog won’t let me off god damn it! 1st half seems like a wheezy hot blur of balls flying all over the place. Some spectacular goals scored… unfortunately for the Fattys as well. On a lighter note the ref was doing such a great job he barely got yelled at. Gorilla defence was the strength of the half for sure.

Steaming forward (literally I think I might be bright red and about to throw up on the shorter guy with the black top and fancy footwork). D-Man (another more regular ring-in) was freakin rockin around the place with epic defence and equally as epic attack. Somewhere in the a yellow card was flashed about to the Fattys goaly. Seconds later BOOM Nannas strike again. Were on our toes! I have no clue how I managed to the end of the game, everyone was so tall and lanky and really hard to keep up with.. the boys (our boys) were smashing their fancy footwork to the dump and turning it around.. and in the end… we lost:-( BUT it was the best loss ever. Only by 1 when the expectation was to be much like last week.

Chur to the fantabulous Nannas for letting a Vagina play on the team!

BOOM done… beat you damn blog post!

 

Match Report 2013_06_20

5-3 Win Vs Xavie’s FC

CB(2), DC(2), CG(G), AW, GF, RH, TW(1(MOM))

It was a night to relish. A big win against a team that could have had us. We kept poise and grace for most of the night. Dan was off his rags, which helped, and Gilla was ignoring his groin issues, which also helped by keeping the oppositions tally down.

The first half gave us a taste of what we were up against. I can’t actually remember anyones goals except my own, which I usually can’t remember either, but on this occasion it felt real good. A pass back from the sideline and I just kicked that fucker right on the sweet spot to send that ball flying with a nice curve on it’s travels into the top left corner. Yeah that felt good.

The Xavie’s had a couple of players with some talent but the real threat didn’t come until they subbed goalies and the shortest of the Irish crew came out to try his luck. It wasn’t long before we frustrated this little yellow wagtail into kicking the ball away when it was our line kick. This infuriated myself and I made a stand. Next time it was a kick of theirs from the sideline I kicked it for 6. For what reason you may ask, well good question and one the ref plus our friendly court side manager felt they needed to ask me. Was it necessary? Yes it was unnecessary, but did it make a point to the Xavie’s? It may have a little. Did it make me feel better? Well yes it did. So was it worth it? Well I didn’t get a yellow and I still got MOM so yes, yes it was fucking worth it.

This is a team we will have to keep and eye on. They do have some good players and they may start playing better as a team. Let’s hope not. We need at least a couple of teams we can beat in this league. Otherwise it’s back south side.

So in summary I spoke a lot about the opposition and, well, myself I guess. Sorry about that.

On a brighter note a few dedicated Nanna’s didn’t pussy out from their beach box obligations and went out on Saturday night for some gluttonous dumpling eating, serious beer drinking, ugly tequila swigging, rather tame vaporising, even tamer Hollywooding (not that it wasn’t appreciated) and profitable poker hands (well for me any hows). Funniest moment of the night would have to be Dan thinking 4s were still wild. Classic.

Match Report 2013_06_13

Vs coconut soldiers
8-3
CB 1, TH 1, TW 1, TK, DC, GF
AW (post match)

What we have doneth is that we have inverted our shizzle in a temporal sense and now instead of playing well in the first half and then petering out like a Circuitt in the second half, we is now petering like a Circuitt in the first half before we have e’en beguneth. And by Gwyneth ’tis not working for us. And ’tis making us loseth.

On a positive note, our second half is solid. Or unsullied you might say. As strong as one thousand unsullied. As hitherto mentioned in a prior report by this selfsame writer, whence that writer did freely availeth himself of the Eco-bulb metaphor (pronounced met-a-fuh), the game of nannas is a gradual one and one that takes some time to reach its zenith.

“So what did happeneth in this particular game of nannas” I hear you cry, sounding not unlike Joffrey when he did yelleth “I am not tired” in the season finale of a certain unmentionable television series.

Well, I shall telleth it and it wenteth thus. Many goals were struck. Nine goals in the first half. That’s one goal every two minutes. Seven for the soldiers and two for us. Our first goal was a corker from old ironborn T-Ho. He came thundering in toward the corner ball from C-Bro, and then smashed it beyond doubt into the back of the net with maximum velocity. It was not dissimilar to the first goal in the Socceroos’ match vs Jordan by Bresciano.

Later, T-Wi executed an unforgettable piece of offensiveness in scoring another goal. No mind could have forgotten the circumstances of this outstanding play. No normal human mind. But then the Nannas posesseth minds of such thoroughbred efficiency and raw singleminded power and silky self excising purity that even the details of this memorable moment slipped straight through the collective consciousness like so many olestra fried potatoes through the collective colon.

Then it was half time and we got a bit roused up and we went back on and unlike the writing of this report (which is now tapering to its slim end), we got our turgid thickness on, fought back with all our beef and tied the final 18 minutes 1 fucking all. Resulting in an 8-3 loss.

C-Bro put a long ball in for a goal that caressed a man’s gut on the way in to the net. T-Ko was excellent in goals and took many a fulsome hit. D-Cro played well but sulked a bit at half-time. G-Fra had some moves but looked a little sleepy.

Afterwards we took it to the Northcote Social Club for some burgers eh! A-Wah joined us for the post match. Nuff said.

Match Report 2013_05_30

vs Balkanjeros 8-6 Loss
CB 1, DC, GF 1, JH 3, RH 1, TH gk (MOM), TW

Once when Old King Lion was on his way to rock bottom, but hadn’t quite bottomed out, he went to a bar. He’d just lost another game at the pits and there was whiff of scat about his mane. He went to a bar looking for a good time, looking for a way to forget another beating. He started drinking and chatting to the ladies and drinking some more. He chromed a couple cans of gold spray paint and dropped some advils. He showed some backpackers his premiership tatts and did some bourbon shots with them. He had a couple bumps of cheap blow and shelved some meth. He was in a bit of a state. Then this super smoking sexy woman walked in. At first she was all like “who’s this minging lion with the crazy eyes”, then she found out he was the lion known as Old King Lion and she was keen for a sail on this mighty boat of a lion, once the fiercest and most wrathful of all the lions. She wanted to be one with the legend and taste the formidability, and a little bit of her felt sorry to see that the once mighty beast had fallen. Now Old King Lion never had any trouble getting any, he was after all Old King Lion, but since the slide had started it was fair to say he wasn’t quite banging any supermodels or hot young starlets, and despite the impairments in his system he still knew something wasn’t quite right. This chick didn’t want to fuck him for who he was, she wanted to fuck him for who he was (ie in the past). It would be nothing but a dirty mercy fuck. But he still went and made sweet love to her because damn that shit feel good mercy fuck or no.

Anyway Jim should probably rightly feel a bit shafted for missing out on MOM after a hattrick. And apart from a couple of dumb goals against us we gave them a good run. Cooking has become a bit of a hit and miss affair, we’re just randomly picking Chinese restaurants on High st, and they’re generally only a pass mark. But there is always Raccoon for a whiskey with Rhian’s best friends.

Match Report 2013_05_23

lost 3-5 vs Spartans?
CB MOM 2, RH 1, TH, TW, GF, CG

Yo people, we had a game that we lost. Let’s have a closer look. The final score was 5-3. They scored 5 goals and we scored 3. Here’s the thing. We started at 0-0 and in the first half of the first half (the first quarter if you will), it was like the Nannas were not quite fully on. You know the low power consumption fluorescent globes we all have these days. You turn them on and they seem a bit dull and not very bright and then may be 10 minutes later they are significantly brighter. As bright as you would hope a light should be.

So this is the Nannas. The game starts and we are on. We’re definitely ‘on’, but we’re just a little bit dull and dim. And while we’re in our slightly dim state the opposition score a couple of goals. Now, the opposition are a team that the Nannas have not played before and they have a style of play that is quite different to what we are used to. They are delicate and gentle with the ball and don’t go in for big body contact. They have footskills, they have fluidity. They’re not whip crack sharp but they’re slightly bewildering. Their style is something new.. a fusion of other teams’ styles that we have played. I call it the ‘banana style’. It’s slippery, delicately flavoured and it has the potential to make a cake out of the Nannas.

But. The big but. Somewhere around the first quarter mark, the gradual brightening of the eco-Nannas has suddenly reached its zenith. And we are on. We are bright. We are glowing. We begin to decode the bewildering banana. It no longer goes around us. Perhaps the Nannas can make a cake out of the banana instead of the other way around. The writer gets a goal. Which the writer can actually remember for once. Perhaps the online brain gym is actually working for the writer. Ok here it is.

“I get the ball.. I’m in front of the oppostion’s goals yet quite far to the right. I line up the shot. I see the bottom far corner of the goal. It looks good. It looks open. I’m thinking.. I’m gonna put it there, right there. And then I shoot. The ball hugs the floor, crosses the goal mouth and goes right into that bottom corner.”

At half-time we are 3-1 down. We pretty much repeat the pattern of the first half. Start dim, lose a couple of goals, brighten up and then fight back. The second half is actually a draw 2-2. The writer gets another goal (which he can’t really remember) and the Captain also gets one (which unfortunately the writer cannot really remember either.. suffice to say that it was awesome and banging and a classic captain’s special).

Personal apologies must go out to Tao. Sorry for calling you a name Tao. There is no excuse for it and I will try to be a bigger man this week.

After the match we took it random styles to the Thornbury Local. The Captain was happy with the reduced hipster factor but equally dismayed by the wall mosaic and the feral factor. There was live music. The label mogul shook his thing but remained seated. His impassive countenance revealed little and it seems unlikely that there will be any new signings. He did think about photographing the Dr Poppy sign until he realised it was an ad for ganja. Speaking of ganja, Coach and the funky nanna were seen departing the Thornbury Local for some unknown purpose and later seen re-entering the Local with noticeably reduced bombast.

PS A note on passing and shooting. (Basic tip #1)

I have been thinking a lot recently about the importance of looking at your target before you shoot or pass. And after a lengthy discussion with Tony Brown (head of coaching at FC Clifton Hill and no relation) on the subject, I feel sufficiently vindicated in my personal musings to bring them to the table of basic tips.

Here is the sequence.

1. Look at the ball.

2. Look at your target.

3. Look back at the ball. Kick the ball.

This may seem quite straight forward and simple but it can make a huge difference to your aiming. Often what happens is one sees the target/ person they are passing to in their periphery and then attempts to make the pass or shot.

YOU MUST EYEBALL THE TARGET

This enables your eye-brain-foot calibration to work. It’s a wondrous thing.

 

Match Report 02 05 13

CB, TH, AW, JH, GF, RH(MOM), TK(MOM)

Anger produces an instantaneous surge, which causes your eyes wide open, blood pressure to elevate and your heart to get excited. Let’s get our hairs on the back of neck stand up. We are ready for action. We’re born with a capacity for anger. Anger isn’t something that has to be learned or earned, like other such such ship. It is blasting 50 Cal. Just need better control like someone started to use telescopic sight on top of it at Falkland Crisis. Charge the anger till the time you release.

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