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The Heritage round. It means soooo much to the purists and the traditionalists. A game of rugby league against two old clubs. One of them has been there since day 1, the other is trying to win a premiership from what seems to be since day 1.
It means fanfare, a big crowd in hopefully a local arena near each team's base.
It means mutual respect and adulation, absolutely through clenched teeth.
It means clever puns and egging from the stakeholders like Crowe. Seemingly wise cracks. Talk of feuds and chequebook rugby league.
You know the usual comradre. We love this stuff....Dont we?
The players cherish these battles because theres a huge media presence and exposure. A special build up almost like a mini GF between these two. How fitting....one team has lost its last 5 GFs whilst the other hasnt appeared in one for over 40 years. How very proud they must be to be trning out like this.
Two unlikely candidates, proudly paraded in front of families of Greens voting citizens. With their little kids in their cute red and green mini jerseys or tricoloured $25 Target immitation Roosters Jerseys. Everyone drinking lattes, including the players. Everyone basking in the glorious duality of players like Coote.
Sharing a Garlos pie.
Singing Kumbuyah.
The statue of Clover Moore proudly straddling A Malvern Star right next to one of Artie outside the SFS.
This is what Heritage round means to people. This is what it is to the new commission...the new NRL.
A promoters dream.
This is what Heritage week is about and what it is headed towards in the future.
And this is what it means to me....
No respect for the filthy red and Green rag.
Complete contempt for the idiot owner with his bullshit stories and one eyed interpretation of the truth, truly departed from the actual reality. Void from the real world.
If I could adress each and every Rooster that is honoured to be in a position to give up their lives to just have a crack of collecting a vermin head, I would slap them 3 times.
Once for the disgraceful position we are in.
Twice for the disgraceful behaviour all in the name of getting yet another coach sacked becuase their precious little GenY carcases cant put up with a bit of ****ing starch.
And a third time to wake them the **** up and realise real life is not about earning more money than your pathetic soul deserves, banging playboy bunnies, pubs, lifestyle programs, glamour wags, reality shows, the footy show, nrl on fox or thinking your shit dont smell and you can do no wrong because you are a first grade footballer.
Real life is about every moment you breath, every moment youre eyes are open, wanting and desperately needing, to crush every bone in a Red and Green Jersey.
Real pride is about standing on top of their dead carcass, addressing their idiot owner and pointing out the scoreboard as the Roosters continue to not be a thorn in the side of Souffs, but a nine inch nail through their hollow deformed skulls.
Real Heart is knowing no matter how much the referees are going to cane you, no matter how much spit and infectious bile riddled with ungodly viruses from another world that the vermin supporters are going to hurl at you, and no mater how many illegal high shots Burgess and Co will be allowed to unleash on you, you keep getting up and you drive the stake even harder into their rotting zombie flesh.
Souffs are ****ed. Their club is ****ed. Their owner is ****ed, their history is ****ed, their salary cap is ****ed, their inetentions are ****ed, their existence is ****ed, their sponsors are ****ed,and Ingliss, Burgess, Taylor, Merritt, Reynolds, all of them, .....cant stop them from being.................****ED!!!
What this round means to each and every Rooster to the Core, is ensure, prevail, insist, deliver the blow that continues to label the entire myth that is South Sydney..........the lie........the cheats.......continue to render them all.......****ED!!!!!!!!!!!!!
They are our severly handicapped little step brother.
This round is not a game. Its an execution. An erradication of a filthy lice ridden vermin pile of introduced disease.
This round is an opportunity, for the disappointing waste of sperm that wear our proud Coq bearing Jersey, to swiftly gain some self respect, the respect of a fan base prouder than these so called first graders, can ever be. Its an opportunity to kick start the final run to finish in a position that is much higher than the 12th they currently stand at, to make some ammends of a season wasted with juvenile and purile selfishness and unadulterated laziness.
And I gleeful cherish every open backhanded slap against the moronic heads of the following:
Pearce, Minichiello, BJ, Kennedy, Aubussen, Hargreaves, The young Moga, yes **** you too superstar, and even the guy thats just returned from injury, SKD. Wake up you dumbarse kiwi dropkick.
This game means the ****ing world to me.
And if you are worth a quarter of the dog turd I almost stepped on this morning on my way to a job that doesnt always guarantee me happiness, but it sure as hell doesnt make me a loser whore who drops his bundle because the boss wont let me play playstation, it will mean the world to you too.
I dont care what the media or the experts say about the Vermin form and roster. To me they are dead.
And after Monday, you will ensure this cliche becomes a reality.
Because no matter how ****ed your young half baked heads are, the truth remains you are Rooster mother****ers.
On game day, you will put in.
On game day, you will smash vermin heads like ripe rockmelons
On game day, you will gang up, stand as one and be inpenetrable
on game day, you will take a giant step in restoring some much needed pride and respect.
You ****ing pussies.
Go Easts.
It means fanfare, a big crowd in hopefully a local arena near each team's base.
It means mutual respect and adulation, absolutely through clenched teeth.
It means clever puns and egging from the stakeholders like Crowe. Seemingly wise cracks. Talk of feuds and chequebook rugby league.
You know the usual comradre. We love this stuff....Dont we?
The players cherish these battles because theres a huge media presence and exposure. A special build up almost like a mini GF between these two. How fitting....one team has lost its last 5 GFs whilst the other hasnt appeared in one for over 40 years. How very proud they must be to be trning out like this.
Two unlikely candidates, proudly paraded in front of families of Greens voting citizens. With their little kids in their cute red and green mini jerseys or tricoloured $25 Target immitation Roosters Jerseys. Everyone drinking lattes, including the players. Everyone basking in the glorious duality of players like Coote.
Sharing a Garlos pie.
Singing Kumbuyah.
The statue of Clover Moore proudly straddling A Malvern Star right next to one of Artie outside the SFS.
This is what Heritage round means to people. This is what it is to the new commission...the new NRL.
A promoters dream.
This is what Heritage week is about and what it is headed towards in the future.
And this is what it means to me....
No respect for the filthy red and Green rag.
Complete contempt for the idiot owner with his bullshit stories and one eyed interpretation of the truth, truly departed from the actual reality. Void from the real world.
If I could adress each and every Rooster that is honoured to be in a position to give up their lives to just have a crack of collecting a vermin head, I would slap them 3 times.
Once for the disgraceful position we are in.
Twice for the disgraceful behaviour all in the name of getting yet another coach sacked becuase their precious little GenY carcases cant put up with a bit of ****ing starch.
And a third time to wake them the **** up and realise real life is not about earning more money than your pathetic soul deserves, banging playboy bunnies, pubs, lifestyle programs, glamour wags, reality shows, the footy show, nrl on fox or thinking your shit dont smell and you can do no wrong because you are a first grade footballer.
Real life is about every moment you breath, every moment youre eyes are open, wanting and desperately needing, to crush every bone in a Red and Green Jersey.
Real pride is about standing on top of their dead carcass, addressing their idiot owner and pointing out the scoreboard as the Roosters continue to not be a thorn in the side of Souffs, but a nine inch nail through their hollow deformed skulls.
Real Heart is knowing no matter how much the referees are going to cane you, no matter how much spit and infectious bile riddled with ungodly viruses from another world that the vermin supporters are going to hurl at you, and no mater how many illegal high shots Burgess and Co will be allowed to unleash on you, you keep getting up and you drive the stake even harder into their rotting zombie flesh.
Souffs are ****ed. Their club is ****ed. Their owner is ****ed, their history is ****ed, their salary cap is ****ed, their inetentions are ****ed, their existence is ****ed, their sponsors are ****ed,and Ingliss, Burgess, Taylor, Merritt, Reynolds, all of them, .....cant stop them from being.................****ED!!!
What this round means to each and every Rooster to the Core, is ensure, prevail, insist, deliver the blow that continues to label the entire myth that is South Sydney..........the lie........the cheats.......continue to render them all.......****ED!!!!!!!!!!!!!
They are our severly handicapped little step brother.
This round is not a game. Its an execution. An erradication of a filthy lice ridden vermin pile of introduced disease.
This round is an opportunity, for the disappointing waste of sperm that wear our proud Coq bearing Jersey, to swiftly gain some self respect, the respect of a fan base prouder than these so called first graders, can ever be. Its an opportunity to kick start the final run to finish in a position that is much higher than the 12th they currently stand at, to make some ammends of a season wasted with juvenile and purile selfishness and unadulterated laziness.
And I gleeful cherish every open backhanded slap against the moronic heads of the following:
Pearce, Minichiello, BJ, Kennedy, Aubussen, Hargreaves, The young Moga, yes **** you too superstar, and even the guy thats just returned from injury, SKD. Wake up you dumbarse kiwi dropkick.
This game means the ****ing world to me.
And if you are worth a quarter of the dog turd I almost stepped on this morning on my way to a job that doesnt always guarantee me happiness, but it sure as hell doesnt make me a loser whore who drops his bundle because the boss wont let me play playstation, it will mean the world to you too.
I dont care what the media or the experts say about the Vermin form and roster. To me they are dead.
And after Monday, you will ensure this cliche becomes a reality.
Because no matter how ****ed your young half baked heads are, the truth remains you are Rooster mother****ers.
On game day, you will put in.
On game day, you will smash vermin heads like ripe rockmelons
On game day, you will gang up, stand as one and be inpenetrable
on game day, you will take a giant step in restoring some much needed pride and respect.
You ****ing pussies.
Go Easts.
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