Match report: in the closest of games, Uni found difficulty consummating all the hard work getting to the Glenorchy line, and just didn't get the try that was necessary to push them to the lead. There were no haughty supercilious opponents drinking our beer and we weren't smarting from failure, yet, nevertheless, something more was needed to be a leap ahead.
Uni body height into contact was inadequate, and must have depowered the push, or made all have to work harder for the same power. Arriving cavalry had to punch in much more to have impact. Consequently the ball was turned over more often than should have been expected, and indeed, simply 'too many times' (isn't that an old song by Mental as Anything? - So it is, the Coach felt
Hotshoe: go to "Too Many Times":
The old Uni trick of keeping possession by running wide and avoiding the immediate impact does not serve us well. It looks good for longer but ends in being squeezed into the sideline - without gaining that simple reality: distance and proximity to the tryline.
Someone needs to be the sacrificial lamb and enter the heart of the early backline contest with straight running, go to ground, and present for the circling seagulls.
Tom Kendall did outstanding work, tirelessly and both attacking and keeping the blacks from exploiting weakness.
This week, superior accuracy in the line out throwing enabled that department to gain our fair share.
But enough of the game. What about the sideline committee?
Best on ground around the red wine: Winkle, JP Cumming, Grant and The Ice Kube (now, that one goes back a long way, to an Intervarsity in Sydney, when most of our Uni team had gained entrance to a Leagues Club - then Kube put his name in the visitor book as "Ice Kube" - and we all got chucked out)
Barge and grand-daughter put on a fantastic meal for the hungry and thirsty 'not to be allowed to play reserves' - viz, the sponsors. Image: here is the table before the food fight.
And this is what caused the spasms, hamstring injuries, and blackouts- blue cards, and hot intensity debate about referee quality:
But do they call Jack Creen "Jack, the Builder?" - No they do not -But mount one goat....
Jack explained that his garrulous yet sometimes obstreperous behaviour goes back to aa period of 6 years in the UK. No doubt! Greece and UK have the goat as NZ has the sheep. Jack's version is that he played for Lensbury RUFC, but took the club into a IP battle in the courts, until they folded and had to adopt a new name - "Lensbury Athletic" had been out-taken by private equity, keen to protect their investment.
Jack returned to Australia, and after muddling in physiotherapy, until he 'found a wife', commenced "Lensbury Constructions" - a team of 7 'private equity builders'. The Right Stuff.
Historically, the games against Glenorchy have been hot contests, both of sport and anti-sport. The seasonal award, ostensibly for cowardice in the face of the foe, is represented by the "Stag's Head" award. I good friend of mine,
as he then was, found the mangled wooden half head with missing antler at the tip and fashioned the shield in his downstairs sanitorium, and presented the inaugural trophy to your correspondent. What cowardice I displayed is not presently recalled. Probably electing to sit a final exam, or attend a near relative's death bed, in lieu of engaging in the contest that day.
Perhaps you can decipher the putative winners on the shield. I see a Taskunas, a John Pickering, Stau Saipaia, Johno Beasley, eric Sheegog and others - not known at all for taking a backward step. So I can only assume there is an element of irony in the 'gift' of this award. Sometimes. See if you can find your name on the award, and if not TRY HARDER.
Eye contact, and shake hands please men
Captain Zac readying himself for the match, and welcoming the "Old Goats" to the dining room
Sponsors and physiotherapists - useful for two things. Jack Creen with colleague Stewart Williamson - of Leap Health. Leap took out coach Matt Jensen's physio practices a couple of years ago, with an early tackle. They work together now.
Pre match warm up: Our match might end with the final siren or bell, but it has another life in the imagination. Players are players in the way that actors are players. Sport is serious, but it is play. It is real, yet it is not, of itself, reality. It is the most accessible theatre in the world, yet many of those involved would otherwise dismiss the possibilities of theatre. (1)
These ambiguities, usually with a rich comic under current are what draw us time and again to what might be thought to be the perpetual motion machine.
Sport is often described in such rich hyperbolic tones and descriptions as to be more serious than ordinary life.
Those who consider themselves to be above sport are missing out. Sport is a human activity, the body at a peak of performance, the mind (sometimes) engaged. It is intrinsic, not peripheral to society. (
Specatators with 50 years of love for the Club roam in from as far afield as the Eastern Shore. They negotiate who wants and who will get the first beer. They rug up against the elements when they could just as easily have lit the fire at home. They know, like us all, that this one obsession is not only permitted by their loved ones, but it defines a part of their character, the way they play, the way they translate that integrity into their work and human relations. And it puts a smile on their faces which wasn't there when they opened the door at their workplace on Monday morning.
Readying for the chorus of cheers from that audience the men - starters, finishers, coach, extras, before the battle begins, they have started their emotional and physical preparation.
Weatherman Riley (formerly of the University Associates Rugby Union Football Club) was quizzed by Paul Cook about the potential for rain today. "My firm prediction is that it will hold up today, but there might be a light shower on Sunday" - so said Mal at 2.55pm
That afternoon the heavens opened up and 25cm poured through the holes in his forecast and spilled out of the gutters onto the concrete, splashed up into his eyes, and rendered him helpless to further baiting:
Brent describing the arc by which fruit and cheese is usually spun when the main course has seen the guests elegantly suffused. "Normally some idiot chucks the soft bris toward the head of the table about 4.15pm, then bread and biscuits rain down liberally, and without clear intent":
What's not to smile about? Tommy Healy. Face made of mirth:
All that said, it was a very entertaining match, and much of the crowd pushed into the clubrooms to watch over the balcony once Mal Riley's rain come down.
That didn't stop the Patron "Ice Kube" and Ritchie the sheep shagger from sticking their fingers up at the crowd when invited to take a lower profile so more could see the game. "UP YOURS" said Ritchie:
Speeches: eloquence. Passion. Clarity of thought. Generosity. Lauding the best, forgiving the rest, forging camaraderie with opponents. Exposing novel hair cuts to a larger audience: Josh speaks to his players and the Old Goats:
And the opponents get the opportunity to use words with more than 2 syllables - University - for example. John Thomas Glenorchy President introduced is players
The Glenorchy Coach was rightly pleased with the result. Jeff Tonks, "Tonksy" was, in his time, a play maker, taking high ball over his head, and booting the buggery out of it, or running straight through his team from full back, and into the mess of his opponents.
Hayden enjoyed the day
Is this the bus you wanted on Saturday night? To where might it go? These are potent forces, those of the testosterone left boiling in the veins of youth...
"Ring the Bells" - close the doors
A few photos from the walls
(1) Acknowledgement: Former Uni of Tas Aussie Rules player and author, Martin Flanagan
(2) Coming up shortly: calls for the full story on all the Stag's Head winners have gone out to Simon Taskunas over in Western Australia. He is licking his pen as we speak.
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