Mazer Rackham

I want to see what it's like, for a 90,000 + crowd to be dead silent for an entire match.

Who did? Frank, Earnest, Peter or Shirley?

Rolling mauls and 36 players within 50m of goal were also not an issue for over a hundred years. The pace of the game is a lot faster too. Grounds are dry and player don't get covered in mud. But! Those are justifications and not real reasons. I have never heard a player say they got confused. The one and only was when the umps wore pink when we wore pink and our players were handballing to the umps. I think the white shorts for away is all that's needed, until it proves problematic. So far the reasons for away strips seems to be based on guesswork. I wonder who the AFL are doing this half-arsed clash jumper bizzo for. The players, the spectators, "theatre goers" who only watch on TV ... ? Want to copy the EPL? Want to sell more merchandise? I wonder if they know themselves. In typical AFL fashion, they don't have a real policy, it's all on the run and they play favourites at every turn. * pink umpires in pink cancer game * clubs in dark jumpers sometimes play other clubs in dark jumpers. Usually ones that can make a lot of noise when their presidents are irritated. * EFC and Carl played each other and each time wore their usual jumpers and the away team wore white shorts.This did not seem to be a problem for anyone, including AFL house * C'wood get concessions that no other club gets.... their "away" jumper is a laughable "alternative" strip. Yet every sensible suggestion for (eg) MFC is shot down. Port have been shafted and they have a case that they're the older club. * "rules" for what avoids a clash are arbitrary. Red is a dark colour when you're an easily shoved around minnow, but not a dark colour when you're a big drawing favourite of headquarters. In summary: the AFL policy is no policy at all. If they want to go EPL on this, then decree that EVERY club must have an away strip for every away game. Mostly white. But simpler, more traditional, and hardly confusing, is to have every team wear dark shorts for home and white shorts for away. If there is a genuine problem on the playing field with that, the AFL won't have to wait long before some high profile presidents are screaming that it is a problem and it "could cost someone a grand final!!!" So far, not a sniff of that.

Gil and his coin toss. One thing we know about Gil, he's an expert toss*r. 2010: AFL said that Collingwood had "the right" to play in their prison bars and St K would have to change. Because CFC finished higher on the ladder. 2013: AFL said that Hawthorn had "the right" to play in their wee and poo stripes because they finished higher on the ladder. And Freo had to accommodate that. Fast forward to 2017. Tiges wore a clash jumper in their away game to Adelaide. But ... oh gee, says Gil, what a pity if the lower finishing team had to give up their traditional jumper in the GF. Oh ... (sound of hands wringing) .... maybe a coin toss? This brings home (once again) the two great truths about the modern AFL. 1. Gil "the deal maker" does not make decisions. He makes "deals" to try to please everyone. 2. The AFL make it up as they go along.

It was actually a commitment ceremony for Max, Brown and Heppell, who are all so outraged by the status quo of gender biased property commitment ceremonies celebrating sex slavery (ie heterosexual marriages) that they have agreed to form a non-gender specific polyamorous life partnership/union based on mutual love and respect. Gil was best man non-hierarchical non-gendered attendant and Clarkson was to be celebrant patriarchal and/or matriarchal authority figure, but the loving couple bunch rejected him (in a nurturing non-judgemental validation of his individual belief system), as they do all representatives of phallocratic brainwashing social institutions. I for one wish them all the best. Hopefully some stability in Max's private life will see him back to his best form.

Scene: AFL House. A new staff member is being shown around. Mary: ... and here's your desk. Lunch room is over there behind the photocopier. I'll get your parking pass from HR, then we'll--- DING DING DING DING DING DING A-OOGA! A-OOGA! A-OOGA! Kendra: what's that? Mary: alarm bells are going off. Critical level. That's the highest. Kendra: do we have to evacuate? Mary: no, it's the alarm that's triggered when Mr McLachlan is in danger of missing one of the bonus clauses in his contract. Come with me. You might learn something. They enter GIL MCLACHLAN'S office Gil is at his desk, sweating, with shirt sleeves rolled up, staring at a crumpled piece of paper in his hand. Gil: We only needed 14,000 at that game! 14 bloody thousand to trigger the finals attendance bonus. 14 bloody thousand! Mary: are you talking about the GWS game, Mr McLachlan? Gil: Oh, Mary, there you are. What the f*** are we going to do? They can't draw two men and a dog! This is a disaster. Looks like I'm not going to the Cote d'Azur now! I'll be in the bloody Bahamas again for the holidays if I don't get this bonus! Mary: what was the attendance? Gil: Hang on ... here it is ... 4,065 and half of those were school kids we let in for free. Mary: It didn't look great on TV. Gil: oh, f*** the TV! Who cares about how it looked? We're in a crisis here! Dammit, even the pie revenue is a disaster. Total of 63 sold for the whole frigging match! Mary: that's not good. That's really not good. Kendra: a low pie consumption can still be indicative of a high population. Gil & Mary: what? Kendra: according to the Australian Bureau of Statistics in 2013, sales of pies, pastries and other baked products containing trans fats has been steadily declining since 1999. Gil: what? Mary: how does that help us, Kendra? Kendra: if I recall from the annual report of the Australian Bakers and Pastry Chefs Association from last year, specifically the datum representing consumption of meat pies per capita, consumption of 63 pies could be representative of a population from anywhere between ... let's see ... (types into phone) 2,852 and 14,865 people. Depending on various factors to be more precisely defined. Gil: what's she saying, Mary? Mary: I think she's saying ... Mary & Kendra: there could have been 14,865 people at the game. Gil: you mean ... over 14,000? Mary: over 14,000. Gil: I'm saved!!! Mary: well done. I can see you're going to go far, Kendra Kendra: (slightly shocked) did you say I’m going to "get f***ed"??? Mary: no, no, that was when Simon was here. That's all over now. I said you'll GO FAR. Kendra: oh, that's better. Still, if those c***s don't pull some genuine crowds soon, we'll ALL be f***ed!

Willo always gave the crowd something for their money. An infuriating but entertaining player. Even my non-MFC mates enjoyed it when Willo got the ball. Was always prepared to back himself in from anywhere within range to dodge 5 blokes, shrug 2 tackles, take 3 bounces and kick the dramatic sealer. ("within range" = anywhere from 130m out or closer) ("the sealer" ... even if it was the first quarter)

Not much danger of him spilling the beans at a sportsmans night as he has threatened that umpteen times and never done it. The kind of people who would fire shots into his house are not the kind to worry about what he'll say at a sportsmans night. they're more worried about what he'd say to cops, lawyers and govt investigators. Hence the gunshots. They're not into subtle.

Maybe that would be the best thing. Maybe no-one's ever told him that before. Maybe he has spent his whole life to now, over compensating by kicking big bags of goals, or performing karaoke in Manila pubs, and still be left with that empty hollow feeling. I think you *should* tell him you love him.

Remember that ASADA only found out about Dank as they were tipped off by the Aus Crime Commission who were investigating organised crime and bikie gangs. This guy Dank appeared on their radar and the trail led to Essendon. The rest is history. (The ACC had plenty on the drugs used at EFC but for legal reasons ASADA couldn't use it and had to start their investigation from scratch ... after the shredding machines got burnt out from over use.) One day the ACC report may be tabled in parliament. I expect it will be eye opening. The gunshots fired into Dank's house? Strangely reminiscent of warnings given by crime/bikie gangs to other crims ...

It's Monday's Umpire Review Panel at AFL House. The umpires from the WCE/Port match crawl into Gil McLachlan's study. Gil is at his desk reviewing the clauses in his employment agreement that trigger bonuses. GM: Marge, is that you? Umpires: (look at each other in confusion) GM: Marge, can you clean out the fireplace. And get me some more smoked salmon and caviar. Ran out on the weekend. Umpire 1: Um, Mr McLachlan? GM: Hmmph? (looks up) What the ... what are you charlies doing here? Umpire 1: We're here for the Umpires' Review Panel meeting, Mr McLachlan. GM: Ohhhhhhh yes. That. I'm glad you're here. I've got a few words for you blokes. Umpire 2: I know, Mr McLachlan. We're sorry. We held our own review after the match. We're really sorry. We know it's a showcase and it's broadcast into 800 countries worldwide, and-- GM: What? What are you talking about? Umpire 1: Please, Mr McLachlan. We know we stuffed it. Please, look at our records, please find it in you to overlook this-- GM: Stuffed it? Stuffed what? What game were you at? Umpire 3: That decision right at the end. I know it stands out like a dog's-- GM: Decisions? Are we talking about the same thing? Umpires: (look at each other in confusion) GM: Crowd was good. Gate was good. TV ratings extremely good. Everyone's talking about the finish. Everyone! F***ing hell! What a great weekend. You d***heads did a marvellous job. Why are you worrying about decisions? Umpire 2: But what about the integrity of the game, Mr McLachlan? No one wants a grand final decided by something like this. We know you're red hot on the integ-- GM: (chuckles) Oh, I see. You guys. Look. The cheer squads put up their banners. The guys wearing foam costumes like lions or tigers or swans or clowns or what the f*** run around before the game giving high fives to the kiddies. Tradies try to take speccies at half time to win a TV. And you f***ers run around doing your umpiring refereeing ... whatever the f*** thing. You know what? I spoke to the Eagles sponsors after the game and they were so f***ing over the moon they were talking about sponsoring the entire league! And here you are worrying about "decisions" ... what ... I mean ... what planet are you on? Umpire 1: But ... decisions are fundamental ... it's ... the integrity of the game, Mr McLachlan. We feel it's-- GM: Listen, I know all about the integrity of the game. I AM the integrity of the game. Look. I can see you're upset about something. Forget it. You're doing a great job. Whatever it is you guys are doing, just keep doing it. The game's never been in better shape. Umpires: (look at each other) Umpire 1: So ... you're not upset ... by anything? GM: Upset? Didn't you just hear me? Game's never been better. Shame about Essendon though. They're a huge draw. I might have a few words with those umpires ... explain the facts of life to them ... Umpire 3: May we go then? GM: Go? Go for your lives! Have a cigar ... oh, I'm out. Never mind. Marge!! Alright, this meeting's finished. F*** off. Umpires: Thank you Mr McLachlan. (they crawl backwards out of the office)

Crowd: good Betting turnover: very good Result: exciting Revenue from pies and chips: record levels Umpiring: um¦pire [ˈʌmpʌɪə] VERB umpiring (present participle) act as an umpire in a game or match. 1350-1400; Middle English umpere, variant of noumpere oh who gives a [censored]

What was he buying, magic mushrooms and calf's blood?

I thought that was saved for the pre season team building exercises

But it's the right way to do it

Can they all go out in straight sets?

It's not well known, but at the end of the 2009 season, Eddie McGuire was in a great quandary as to who should be the next coach of Collingwood. "The problem is", he said to Gary Pert, "is that Mick is a very good coach with a track record of success. But he just hasn't been able to pull off the ultimate here at Collingwood. But Nathan was the better player. And he's full of modern ideas." "But Nathan hasn't got much coaching exp--" "And he's so much more handsome than Mick. And he's a better kisser." "A better kisser? What did you say?" "What? Oh. Um. I mean ..." "Are you daydreaming again?" "No! No ... I said, a better dresser. Anyway, enough of that ... how do we work out which of these mighty football intellects is the better coach?" "Well, you could ask them something not related to football. A real brain teaser. A ticklish mind melting kind of arm twisting ... ball busting ... kidney punching--" "Ouch! Gary! Let go of me! Now you're day dreaming!" "Oh! Sorry Eddie. Anyway ... a hard question to really test their braininess. Sort the sheep from the goats." "Nathan is not a sheep! Or a goat. Show some respect. Now, what kind of question?" "Something like ... who is it who is your father's son, but it's not your brother?" "The hell? That sounds impossible. That's no one! No one can be your father's ... what was it again? There is no answer!" "I assure you, there is an answer. Try them out, see if they can get it right." "I'll do that. NATHAN!!!" In comes Buckley. "Nathan, there's one last stage in the interview process. All you have to do is answer this question. Who is it ... what's the question, Gary?" "Who is it who is your father's son, but it's not your brother?" "Wow. That's a tough one, Eddie. I'm going to need some time to think it over." "Take your time, take your time. But no phoning a friend!" "Why would I do that? I don't have any friends." "It's a joke, Nathan. Like on my show on TV." "Oh. Right. I've never watched it. I wouldn't know." "Did you say you don't have friends? You've never ... considered me ... a friend?" "No." "Oh ... oh ... well anyway, come back tomorrow with your answer." "Yes." Next day, in comes Nathan. "I'm sorry, Eddie. I can't do it. I think it must be a trick question. There is no answer." "Well, Nathan, it is a trick question, but there is an answer! Gary, tell him the answer." "It's you, Nathan." "Me. Thank you. Is that all?" "Thanks, Nathan, you may go. MICK!!!" In comes Malthouse. "Mick, I have one last thing for you before my decision. Who is it who is your father's son, but it's not your brother?" "I don't know. Is it you?" "No, Mick, it's not me. Think it over and come back tomorrow with your answer." Next day, Mick comes running in. "I worked it out! I worked it out! It's me! The answer is me!" "Mick. Settle down. What are you talking about?" "I worked out the answer to the question. It's me! The answer is me!" Eddie looks at Malthouse in amazement. "No, you bloody idiot! It's Nathan Buckley!"

It’s a bright new day in a Collingwood supporter household. Baz, Raelene, and children Shaz and Daz are gathered around the breakfast table eating left over McDonald’s. Baz says: "Son. Today is a very special day." Daz: "Did we win the premiership again?" "Um. Prob'ly. I'll check wif Dicko. But what I mean is, today it's ya tenf birfday. Rae, get me anuvver beer before I belt ya one." "Is it Dad? I fought last year wuz me tenf birfday?" "Woz it? Might o' been, ya know. I can't count past ten. I know there's some uvver numbers. There's 35 ... and there's 42 ... I fink there's more than that too." "Does that mean I hafta start goin' ta school, dad?” "School? School? School is fer smartarses an' Melbun supporters! No child o' mine is goin' ta school! Nor you neither, Shaz. No, son, it's ya tenf birfday so today yez get to go out and buy ... yer very own Collingwood jumper!" "Like Shaz's?" "Yes son. Just like Shaz's." "I fought we shoplifted hers?" "No son. Not a Collingwood jumper. The f***ing rozzers can come and take most fings we got but they can never take away our Collingwood jumpers if we got ‘em a hunnerd percent legal." "You’re real smart dad. But where's we gunna get the money from?" "From this wallet what I nicked from some bloke at the train station yestdee." "Geez dad, you fink of everyfink!" "Thanks son. That's why I’m head o' the household and why I get to wear Nathan Buckley’s number on me back. All right, I got a big day ahead o' me. First I gotta go down the pub, then Centrelink, then I’ve gotta go to the track and sort through the left over race tickets. Then down to the Westpac centre to see if I can spot Eddie McGuire going in. Then the pub again. I'll see yez tanight in ya new footy jumper!" Off goes Baz and off go the rest to the nearest Big W. Raelene says: "Awrite, son. Pick out a jumper. Take yer time. Me and Shaz'll be over tryin' to nick a iphone." Daz checks out all the AFL jumpers. Shaz comes back. "Did ya pick one yet?" "Yep. I want this one." It's a Carlton jumper. Shaz can't believe it. "Ya little [censored]! Wodja pick that one for?" She spits on him. "Mum! Look at what Daz chose!" Mum comes over. "Yes, yes, what's all the-- what the f*** is this?" "But mum, I want this jumper!" "Why you ungrayfuss ... ungratesel .... ungr .... ya little [censored]!" She slaps him hard and pulls out some chunks of hair. "I wish I'd shoplifted a umbrella so's I could poke ya in the guts wiv it! Just wait till yaw father hears about this!" They go home in silence. Dad gets home. "Awrite, where's young Darren? Where's me little champ? Rae, get me a beer before I belt ya one." Daz appears in his Carlton jumper. Baz nearly goes into shock. He stares for a full minute before he speaks in a cold, low voice. "You barztid. You f***in' barztid." Reflexes kick in and he punches Daz in the guts, and while he's bent over, knees him in the teeth, knocking out a few. Daz collapses to the floor and mum, dad and Shaz lay the boots in. Eventually they've had enough and stand back. Dad says, panting: "I hope yez have learned something, son." "Yes, dad, I have" "And what's that?" "I’ve only barracked for Carlton for one day, and already I hate youse Collingwood c***s!"

We'll miss by 0.2% next year, 0.1% the year after, ....

Goody sings the blues: ♪♫ When I woke up this morning Everything I had was gone Said when I woke up this morning Everything I had was gone Had my heart set on finals Now we gonna play none Knocked out on percentage On that long dark night Knocked out on percentage On that long dark night I have pains in my heart They have taken my appetite Worked fifteen years Playing as a Crow Worked fifteen long years Playing as a row Got here to Melbourne as head coach Never felt so low Beat twice by North Melbourne Took me by surprise Beat twice by North Melbourne Took me by surprise But when we give up against Brisbane Had to close my eyes Had to fold my arms And I slowly walked away Had to fold my arms And I slowly walked away I said in my mind Trouble gonna come someday Round twenty three at the MCG Felt like judgement day Round twenty three at the MCG Felt like judgement day Only had to beat them Magpies Found black and white makes grey And I rolled and I tumbled And I cried the whole night long And I rolled and I tumbled And I cried the whole night long Boy, I woke up this mornin' My self respect was gone ♫

For skills that we needed in areas where we were lacking, such as a good CEO, or a good coach, yes, outsiders have come in and done well. Garlett, Vince, etc. But for the burning issue of mental strength, you can't buy it or recruit it. Has to come from within, meaning, the list we have has to solve it for themselves.

What is the point of moving players around if, when the crunch time comes, we dissolve and melt? There is something more urgent to be addressed than positional changes.

Messiah complex. Let's do it ourselves otherwise it will be an illusion. Has to come from within

Some other words to describe Melbourne supporters rubes marks pigeons suckers gulls dupes chumps

Sounds like the world's oldest profession. Just like the world's oldest pasttime, which is getting your hopes up over the MFC and later realising you've been f***ed over.