Now. While the rest of the country was worried bout what the fuck was happening in Canberra I had more important things on my mind, like are the Pies gonna finish top four. What a mess at Parliament House, a bunch of cunts seeing whose dick is the biggest is what this is. A billionaire lost his job to a Christian who claims people who retire and live on a pension are dole bludgers and lock up a bunch of immigrants in an illegal jail. Sure God doesn/t like that. Meanwhile another contender was an ex Queensland Cop. Enough said on that sadist. Meanwhile who was minding the shop? Was someone running the joint? Mad Rad, please reserve me the table out the window of the Balaclava, want to sit there when the world goes down the toilet. Thats my political rant out the way for the year. Oh one more, hey Sir Joh, hows the weather in Hell you piece of shit.
That’s out the way, onto the real issue. Pies are guaranteed finals but must win today to secure at least two games in September. Freo coming off a pantsing will ave something to prove.
While seeing an art expo which involved me moving round very fast and a bunch of art fools walking very slow (this expo also involved a dead giraffe in a glass case, beer that looked awful and security guards giving me the don/t try anything funny look) I get a text from GG informing me hes reserved two tables for us. I could kiss him. I forget if I did. I think I just bowed to him and did the we/re not worthy thing instead. I walk in to see that we got the two tables and we also find the remote. Could this day be any more perfect? Fred enters and GG informs Rose will be the new face in hell joining us. While waiting im reading a two page spread on the Sam Murray issue. Does a line of speed constitute a whole career being flushed down the toilet? Probably not, aving said that what the fuck was he thinking. And on game day. Silly boy. I don/t know that this constitutes a career to end but its hard to ave any sympathy for him, given what has happened to Thomas and Keefe a few years earlier. Hopefully the b sample will prove him in the clear and this warning was the foot up the arse he needed. Or he gives me a call and ill say no speed Sam, just meet me at the Balaclava and buy me a drink.
Pre game I run out for a fag, I raise my head and see Brian Nankervis and he gives the friendly smile only he can provide. Im told this game is going to be Optus Stadium. Did they sack all their workers so they could afford the money to name the stadium? Anyway they bounce the ball and the Shag is already amongst it as Pete enters. We need the sound louder so Pete changes the volume, aside from being the CEO he is the official remote user. Unfortunately he changes the channel as we freak out. We get back to the footy to see Crisp goal and we/re cha cha chaing within twenty second. Dole Cheque is taken by the neck and given a shot for his trouble but can only minor. Cox marks straight away but can only manage a on the full. Freo ave barely touched the ball in the first two minutes. Freo bloke kicks it on the full which leads to Screwdriver aving a shot 15 meters out. Bang we/re hi fiving as GG takes the lights out. Oh and GG is wearing his glasses for 11 weeks in a row. And I brought mine, im going for a twopeat next week. Cox has a run passes off to the Gooster and we/ve kicked three in three minutes. Dunstall takes time to tell us that the Pies are on fire. Langdon gives Freo a point with a rush, as we demand the Shag kick a goal. Sidie off to the Matrix off to Varco but cant win the contest. Sier smoothers off to Cox, 40 out, as the commentators mention Cox is hard to beat because hes so tall. Well thats what happens when your seven foot tall. Its as if they think we/re all deadshits and we cant figure out a very tall bloke will usually win most contests. Unfortunately he shanks it and misses the lot. The shag is round but does nothing. Sidie to Aish to Freo bloke and they get a major for fuck sake. Varco off to the Hyphen whose pinned, my boys had a quite few weeks. Maybe hes resting for finals. Theres a freo bloke that sounds like Bukowski, anyway he goals as some rude prick stands in front of the tv. Also another prick stand in front of the tv later on, some knob from the front bar who screams go tigers when he has one foot in the door to the public bar. Its the adult version of ringing a door bell and running way. Anyway that guys is a cunt. Not because hes a Richmond fan, he just aint a bloke you cant trust. Freo gets another one, as the commentator tells us that the pies kicked three and now freo ave kicked three, he also tells us its game on. I swear these blokes aint even trying. Im sure hes just sitting in the front bar of the Balaclava and just spits out some crap from his phone. Maynard G Krebbs good hit, free for dropping, as Fred tells us he saw our mate, Mr Soccer, aka the Butcher outside the Dominos on Chappell St saying its free pizza day. You couldn/t pay me enough to eat that shit. Free pizza and hot crust buns months after Easter, you need help Butcher. Shit act from Fyfe sees him get a kick and one of our blokes goes off for the blood rule and Freo takes the lead. Crisp to Thomas Smoother from Freo forward Langdon cant win as Freo go five points up. Samurai takes mark of the year, but thats it
As we take smoko Rose enters, and Keith is here with Sophie, with the comfy chairs from the lounge. They kicked him out because some poor fools wanted to watch the rugby union. Oh the poor suckers watching that toilet of a game. Restart Maynard G Krebbs from Sier no mark from Dole Cheque hyphen to Screwdriver Varco cant tackle, free to Freo, Freo from 50 but Screwdriver marks Cox mark of the year but he looks for the Shag. He cant find him so instead he just kicks it through the big sticks. Which by the way means six points. 32-27. Shag gets the balls straight away but the kick is smothered, Screwdriver to Crisp Dole Cheque to Adams Matrix kicks to a three on one, Samurai tap to Matrix again but no ones home in the forward line. Dog act from Freo should be 50 but we get nothing as Freo goes 50 but thankfully no ones in the square.GG Says no pies. Yeah you/ll get yours GG. Just watch your glasses at book club on Monday. Ballantyne kicks a goal and gives it to the Pies fans,. Hey Hayden what the fuck you doing September? Watching us win game while your at home? Don/t forget to cha cha cha after every goal. This Bukowski bloke is on fire as he kicks a goal. Given how much piss the original Bukowski sunk down I think we should drug test this one. Mind you in his books he seemed to ave lost most of the fights he got into, something to think of later on if he continues this form. We cut to Ross Lyon, as mentioned in the last freo rant Fred and Pete reckons he sounds like a Muppet, while I say he sounds like the adults in Peanuts. Waw waw waw. No mam yes mam that thing. Freo bloke has shot as Rose says Chewy on the boot and he misses. Onya Rose. Not only did he miss he missed the lot. Fucking Bukowski has another shot. Fred says miss miss cocky piss and it works again. Hyphen to the Gooster to the Matrix from 25 and we/re cha cha chaing 42-33. The caller tells us that was an important goal, as if the others wheren/t. Straight away the Matrix kicks off to Stephenson this is more like it. 42-39. Screwdriver straight to Freo bloke Langdon goes for mark of year but hes no good. And for his trouble Langdon cops a finger in the eye. I actually thought a figure in the eye is a good thing, but Dunstall corrects me and tells us thats no fun. Both teams go in there 50 in the last minute as its fresh air time.
Out the back of the pub we do the quiz. Pete goes false. The question is asked which two Fake Magpie players where all Australian last year and I say who gives a fuck which gets 5 million points. Fred says 50 Shades to which Pete says Gray and I bounce with Robbie. I also get Singapore correct to whatever the fuck the question was. Viv and Gordon both enter. We walk in to see Dole Cheque gives us the lead as we scream TV shows that are now dole classics, i.e. everybody loves Raymond and shows always on during the day. I want Get Smart back on. Bernie two legs enters, one of my favs, always ave time for him. As the poor saps watching the rugby are upset. I think it was because we turned the volume up. Mad Matty is standing in the door way, wearing a Macho Man Randy Savage t shirt, screaming his shirt is black and white no color. Onya Matty. Freo go 50 marked by Langdon to the Shag off to Varco on the full. We ask Viv what she would tell the tem. She says Win Win Win. Cant argue that strategy. Freo bloke has another shot Rose again says chewy on the boot as he again misses the lot. Bunch of stoopid basketball handballs from Freo leads to a turn over. Dole Cheque marks off to the Shag, who Rose christens him Napoleon Dynamite. Hmm didn/t think of that. Im sticking with the Shag. Anyway the Shag fails to make the distance as that fucking dirty old man Bukowski goals. GG says lucky Ross Lyon aint taught Freo how to kick goals otherwise we/d be in trouble. True, and also the fact no one can understand whats he saying. We see Ross in the box drinking a gatorade but he probably wanted a coffee but given a gatorade due to no one understanding him. I swear these WA umpires are awful due to the shit frees given and theres plenty as the Samurai is given one again even though he was pushed. We ave a shot but miss, Gordon says thats not very Richmondesque which the commentators where saying last week every second word. SHAG MARKS off to the Gooster but he fails due to fucking three eon one. SHAG AGAIN but out on full as Dunstall says Freo will win if, wait for it. If they hit targets. Brilliant. Someone scores a point, my notes fail me as to who it was. I wrote Bucks aint happy which is no surprise.
Three Quarter time
Scores leveled (I failed to write what the score was sorry)
Freo take the lead with a point but pissfarting round from us sees Bukowski ave the ball but Straight to Adams to Dole Cheque, hes hit umps ball. Rush from Sidie sees the scores square again. Free to Cox but for the fucking tenth time today we kick to a three on one. Shit bloke Ballantyne scores. Cunt ref pins Hyphen for holding despite the fact he handballed it. Free to Crisp to Cox no mark. Hyphen to Stephenson no Mark Sidie dribble kick just the one point. 64-57. Soccer from Cox to Sier Thomas to Dole Cheque GOAL 65-63. Im amazed none of the commentators said they needed that. Straight away Dole Cheque goals again WE TAKE THE LEAD 69-65. Fyfe misses as the Pies faithful give it to him. Freo go 50 but a great run from Adams prevents him doing anything. GG says Richmondesque, but Fred corrects with Collingwoodesque as Jen enters. Sier cant mark Hyphen soccers straight to Freo bloke as Bukowski has another shot. Rose again does the chewy on the boot and again he missed the lot. We/re you been the whole time Rose? Free to Matrix great tackle from Screwdriver Cox runs hard off to Sier but hes pinned, Freo ave ball shit kick sees Aish smoother off to Thomas and its 10 points the margin 76-66. GG asks if im gonna call it with 90 seconds to go. With 45 seconds I write game over on my notes and thats it
After the game GG puts the lights back in as Jen asks who Matrix and GG are. Rose and i discuss what we rather wish for, Eagles in Perth or Richmond at the G for the first week of finals. Me and Bernie also rip into the blokey culture of footy clubs and why they need to move with the times. Oh and Australia lost Rugby, ah thats a shame my arsehole bleeds for the people that support that idiotic game.
Not the best of wins, more like a get out of jail, but a wins a win and with the double chance locked in its the result we wanted. Lot of blokes where MIA, don/t know if there resting or they didn/t pay respect to their opponents.
FINALS. So good to say that, the Eagles is a winnable game, hopefully the Sack will return and maybe even Brownlow. But the big question is what the fuck are we gonna do bye week? Number 96 movie again.
Anyway will discuss at book club tonight.
And finally we bid farewell to one of the greats of the modern erA. Im sorry, but it doesn/t matter how good Brendon Goddard was, he/ll forever be known as angry man, and that beautiful pointed finger he had. And who can forget pretzel gate. Will miss you BJ.
See yous at the Balaclava in two week.