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  • #31
    Sonny Bill apologised this morning, for those who got all hot and bothered.

    For those who correctly did not give a fuuck, well done.

    The posters on here who blow their trumpets about how great it is we have signed an elite player in Jennings but take aim at Sonny Bill are morons.

    The club is going in the right direction. It will take more than Twitter to change that.

    Comment


    • #32
      Originally posted by Bansai Pipeline View Post
      I don't mind Mundine.

      All that bullsh!t he goes on with is designed to get the mugs in.

      It works.

      And who's to say he doesn't have a point.

      Boxing is notoriously dodgy when it comes to points. And from what I saw, no one dominated that fight.

      Each to their own.
      I thought 116-112 was a fair indication of the way the fight went
      I respect all our moderators here. Past present and even future. Always have done and always will do a wonderful job.

      Comment


      • #33
        Sonny Bill Williams:
        Sorry about the status last night. Emotions were running high just very disappointed for my brother and that's how I saw the fight. No disrespect meant to Geale he's a great champion-fighter and it was a great night..

        Comment


        • #34
          It was good to see some of the Roosters boys come out on twitter in support of Daniel Geale, just hope it doesn't create any tension within the squad when Sonny comes on board, for the record I only saw James Maloney & Dan Mortimer tweet regarding the fight.

          Comment


          • #35
            Is Dan Mortimer still with the club?

            Comment


            • #36
              Originally posted by Bansai Pipeline View Post
              Is Dan Mortimer still with the club?
              Sure is, he should spend plenty of time with Newtown this year though, depends how Jake & Seluini works out I suppose, although he may be a back up for the halves if anything happens to Jimmy M or Jnr Jnr or if either play SOO.

              Comment


              • #37
                I saw SKD and I think Tasi at the fight last night. Was a who's who of the sporting world, for sure.
                Fair few of the Tigpies were sitting behind us. Farrah, Lawrence and a few I don't know plus Heighington and Gibbs (I think)
                There were A LOT of 50uff$ jerseys and T-shirts at the Ent Cent last night. And not many teeth....
                Member 2008 - forever

                Comment


                • #38
                  Originally posted by BlindFreddy:275360
                  Sonny Bill apologised this morning, for those who got all hot and bothered.

                  For those who correctly did not give a fuuck, well done.

                  The posters on here who blow their trumpets about how great it is we have signed an elite player in Jennings but take aim at Sonny Bill are morons.

                  The club is going in the right direction. It will take more than Twitter to change that.
                  For me, Fred , it was less about a heat of the moment comment rather his close association with mundine being the worry.

                  The guy is an idiot who I think believes the garbage he peddles. I don't think he is smart enough to play the game that some here credit him with.

                  Comment


                  • #39
                    Personally i like it when Mundine talks it up, it's entertainment. He's no different to most of other boxer's in the US and it puts rumps on seats and infront of their tv's watching pay per view. It's all part of the show.

                    Comment


                    • #40
                      http://www.theleader.com.au/story/12...o-blame/?cs=12

                      Misunderstood Mundine has only himself to blame Save


                      By Jonathan Horn
                      Jan. 31, 2013, 11:12 a.m.

                      When he quit rugby league to become a professional boxer, Anthony Mundine donned his leather jacket, sucked on a Chupa Chup and fielded questions. Throughout the press conference, he clutched a faded hardback, Muhammad Ali's book The Greatest. He was glowing. Like a young Ali, no one quite knew what to make of him.
                      For Mundine, Ali was always the blueprint. The PR stunts, the self-aggrandising, the hands-low, head-high fighting technique, even the move to Islam – they were all from the champ's manual. He even sought to emulate his crusade. In Inside Sport magazine, Robert Drane called Ali “Anthony's invisible friend, poorly channeled”…. “As an imitator of his hero,” Drane wrote, “he's little more than a cultural skeuomorph.”

                      Ali never pretended to be perfect. In matters marital and fiscal, he was frequently all at sea. His humour was often scripted. When the talk turned to race, he could be every bit as clumsy, contradictory and odious as Mundine.

                      But his deft touch, rhythm and unpredictability – the hallmarks of his success inside the ring – were also the makings of him outside of it. Most of all, he had a certain irony. He would say things like, “If someone told you some nigger boxer from Louisville, Kentucky, would become famous as Jesus Christ you'd tell them 'You Crazy'. But I did it.” And then he'd start laughing and reel off a poem. He revelled in the absurd theatre of it all. Whereas Mundine's glower betrays a certain anger and distrust, Ali's radiated warmth. His pupils danced. “You ain't as dumb as you look,” he'd say to Soviet General Secretaries, sports broadcasters and second graders. Momentarily mortified, they'd quickly see that glint. And they were won over forever.

                      Deep down, Mundine knew he could never match that wit or that colossal talent. But he could have a similar impact on his people. When he was a kid, his father would regularly drive him through some of the most squalid areas of Sydney. He'd point out the drunks throwing up on the streets, the drug deals, the hookers, the lurkers and the destitute. Live a clean, honourable life, his dad told him. And make a difference.

                      Indeed,when it came to Aboriginal empowerment, Mundine initially loomed as the right man at the right time. This super-confident young athlete was addressing issues that most wouldn't touch. In an age where most sportspeople parrot lines with all the spontaneity of a police media spokesperson, Mundine always spoke his mind.

                      But no one could ever work out what he was trying to say. "My people" always figured prominently in his sentences. The problem was, he was always picking fights with them. They weren't Aboriginal enough. They didn't stand up for their brothers. They were just puppets for the system. Whereas the likes Catherine Freeman and Adam Goodes were genuine role models, Mundine seemed forever intent on dividing, squabbling and speaking sideways.


                      See your ad here

                      "Communication is the problem to the answer", the old song goes and Mundine's mouth has always been his undoing. Tact, timing and eloquence have never been his strong suits. On issues relating to the Australian flag, national anthem and racism, he was a potentially important voice. But he always made a right royal hash of it. Pressed further, he'd backtrack, divert, and deflect. “They're all Uncle Toms baby,” he'd say, looking away. And he'd revert to trash-talking his opponent. Promoting his upcoming bout always buttered a lot more bread than nailing what he was actually trying to articulate.

                      Brash and bravado have never necessarily been deal-breakers for Australian sporting fans. When a miked up Shane Warne pre-empts bowling a batsman around his legs, we laugh. And when they stuff up, we are a pretty forgiving lot. Whether it's jockeys betting on their own mounts, Brownlow medallists wading across a river to avoid arrest or leg spinners reviewing Fifty Shades of Grey on Twitter, we cut them a lot of slack. A dose of humility, contrition and self-deprecation usually do the trick.

                      With Mundine however, the irony was never there. In many ways, Daniel Geale represents the greatest irony of all – this quietly spoken, physically unremarkable and earnest young punching machine. In Mundine's world of black and white, where everyone is either with you or against you, Geale must be particularly perplexing. The narrative prior to Wednesday's fight - punctuated by the occasional apology and handshake - included doubts over Geale's record in the ring, his Aboriginality and his right to fall in love with a white woman.

                      Last night's unanimous points decision is surely the full-stop on a strange, sometimes brilliant, often farcical and entirely unprecedented career. The Man who wanted to be the Australian Ali never came close to emulating him. Whether he's unfulfilled, underrated, misunderstood or all three, there's only one man to blame.
















                      Print StorySave






                      Latest News

                      Craig Thomson arrested by fraud squad

                      Comment


                      • #41
                        Originally posted by spanner View Post
                        http://www.theleader.com.au/story/12...o-blame/?cs=12

                        Misunderstood Mundine has only himself to blame Save


                        By Jonathan Horn
                        Jan. 31, 2013, 11:12 a.m.

                        When he quit rugby league to become a professional boxer, Anthony Mundine donned his leather jacket, sucked on a Chupa Chup and fielded questions. Throughout the press conference, he clutched a faded hardback, Muhammad Ali's book The Greatest. He was glowing. Like a young Ali, no one quite knew what to make of him.
                        For Mundine, Ali was always the blueprint. The PR stunts, the self-aggrandising, the hands-low, head-high fighting technique, even the move to Islam – they were all from the champ's manual. He even sought to emulate his crusade. In Inside Sport magazine, Robert Drane called Ali “Anthony's invisible friend, poorly channeled”…. “As an imitator of his hero,” Drane wrote, “he's little more than a cultural skeuomorph.”

                        Ali never pretended to be perfect. In matters marital and fiscal, he was frequently all at sea. His humour was often scripted. When the talk turned to race, he could be every bit as clumsy, contradictory and odious as Mundine.

                        But his deft touch, rhythm and unpredictability – the hallmarks of his success inside the ring – were also the makings of him outside of it. Most of all, he had a certain irony. He would say things like, “If someone told you some nigger boxer from Louisville, Kentucky, would become famous as Jesus Christ you'd tell them 'You Crazy'. But I did it.” And then he'd start laughing and reel off a poem. He revelled in the absurd theatre of it all. Whereas Mundine's glower betrays a certain anger and distrust, Ali's radiated warmth. His pupils danced. “You ain't as dumb as you look,” he'd say to Soviet General Secretaries, sports broadcasters and second graders. Momentarily mortified, they'd quickly see that glint. And they were won over forever.

                        Deep down, Mundine knew he could never match that wit or that colossal talent. But he could have a similar impact on his people. When he was a kid, his father would regularly drive him through some of the most squalid areas of Sydney. He'd point out the drunks throwing up on the streets, the drug deals, the hookers, the lurkers and the destitute. Live a clean, honourable life, his dad told him. And make a difference.

                        Indeed,when it came to Aboriginal empowerment, Mundine initially loomed as the right man at the right time. This super-confident young athlete was addressing issues that most wouldn't touch. In an age where most sportspeople parrot lines with all the spontaneity of a police media spokesperson, Mundine always spoke his mind.

                        But no one could ever work out what he was trying to say. "My people" always figured prominently in his sentences. The problem was, he was always picking fights with them. They weren't Aboriginal enough. They didn't stand up for their brothers. They were just puppets for the system. Whereas the likes Catherine Freeman and Adam Goodes were genuine role models, Mundine seemed forever intent on dividing, squabbling and speaking sideways.


                        See your ad here

                        "Communication is the problem to the answer", the old song goes and Mundine's mouth has always been his undoing. Tact, timing and eloquence have never been his strong suits. On issues relating to the Australian flag, national anthem and racism, he was a potentially important voice. But he always made a right royal hash of it. Pressed further, he'd backtrack, divert, and deflect. “They're all Uncle Toms baby,” he'd say, looking away. And he'd revert to trash-talking his opponent. Promoting his upcoming bout always buttered a lot more bread than nailing what he was actually trying to articulate.

                        Brash and bravado have never necessarily been deal-breakers for Australian sporting fans. When a miked up Shane Warne pre-empts bowling a batsman around his legs, we laugh. And when they stuff up, we are a pretty forgiving lot. Whether it's jockeys betting on their own mounts, Brownlow medallists wading across a river to avoid arrest or leg spinners reviewing Fifty Shades of Grey on Twitter, we cut them a lot of slack. A dose of humility, contrition and self-deprecation usually do the trick.

                        With Mundine however, the irony was never there. In many ways, Daniel Geale represents the greatest irony of all – this quietly spoken, physically unremarkable and earnest young punching machine. In Mundine's world of black and white, where everyone is either with you or against you, Geale must be particularly perplexing. The narrative prior to Wednesday's fight - punctuated by the occasional apology and handshake - included doubts over Geale's record in the ring, his Aboriginality and his right to fall in love with a white woman.

                        Last night's unanimous points decision is surely the full-stop on a strange, sometimes brilliant, often farcical and entirely unprecedented career. The Man who wanted to be the Australian Ali never came close to emulating him. Whether he's unfulfilled, underrated, misunderstood or all three, there's only one man to blame.
















                        Print StorySave






                        Latest News

                        Craig Thomson arrested by fraud squad
                        That is a brilliant piece of writing. Nothing more needs to be said.

                        Comment


                        • #42
                          Originally posted by BlindFreddy View Post
                          Sonny Bill apologised this morning, for those who got all hot and bothered.

                          For those who correctly did not give a fuuck, well done.

                          The posters on here who blow their trumpets about how great it is we have signed an elite player in Jennings but take aim at Sonny Bill are morons.

                          The club is going in the right direction. It will take more than Twitter to change that.
                          I don't have a problem with $BW. I have a problem with $BW or any other player not thinking before they put deflamatory comments on twitter. Comments which can cause parties to sue them. I'm just asking him to engage his brain before he tweets.

                          Comment


                          • #43
                            Originally posted by spanner View Post
                            http://www.theleader.com.au/story/12...o-blame/?cs=12

                            Misunderstood Mundine has only himself to blame Save


                            By Jonathan Horn
                            Jan. 31, 2013, 11:12 a.m.

                            When he quit rugby league to become a professional boxer, Anthony Mundine donned his leather jacket, sucked on a Chupa Chup and fielded questions. Throughout the press conference, he clutched a faded hardback, Muhammad Ali's book The Greatest. He was glowing. Like a young Ali, no one quite knew what to make of him.
                            For Mundine, Ali was always the blueprint. The PR stunts, the self-aggrandising, the hands-low, head-high fighting technique, even the move to Islam – they were all from the champ's manual. He even sought to emulate his crusade. In Inside Sport magazine, Robert Drane called Ali “Anthony's invisible friend, poorly channeled”…. “As an imitator of his hero,” Drane wrote, “he's little more than a cultural skeuomorph.”

                            Ali never pretended to be perfect. In matters marital and fiscal, he was frequently all at sea. His humour was often scripted. When the talk turned to race, he could be every bit as clumsy, contradictory and odious as Mundine.

                            But his deft touch, rhythm and unpredictability – the hallmarks of his success inside the ring – were also the makings of him outside of it. Most of all, he had a certain irony. He would say things like, “If someone told you some nigger boxer from Louisville, Kentucky, would become famous as Jesus Christ you'd tell them 'You Crazy'. But I did it.” And then he'd start laughing and reel off a poem. He revelled in the absurd theatre of it all. Whereas Mundine's glower betrays a certain anger and distrust, Ali's radiated warmth. His pupils danced. “You ain't as dumb as you look,” he'd say to Soviet General Secretaries, sports broadcasters and second graders. Momentarily mortified, they'd quickly see that glint. And they were won over forever.

                            Deep down, Mundine knew he could never match that wit or that colossal talent. But he could have a similar impact on his people. When he was a kid, his father would regularly drive him through some of the most squalid areas of Sydney. He'd point out the drunks throwing up on the streets, the drug deals, the hookers, the lurkers and the destitute. Live a clean, honourable life, his dad told him. And make a difference.

                            Indeed,when it came to Aboriginal empowerment, Mundine initially loomed as the right man at the right time. This super-confident young athlete was addressing issues that most wouldn't touch. In an age where most sportspeople parrot lines with all the spontaneity of a police media spokesperson, Mundine always spoke his mind.

                            But no one could ever work out what he was trying to say. "My people" always figured prominently in his sentences. The problem was, he was always picking fights with them. They weren't Aboriginal enough. They didn't stand up for their brothers. They were just puppets for the system. Whereas the likes Catherine Freeman and Adam Goodes were genuine role models, Mundine seemed forever intent on dividing, squabbling and speaking sideways.


                            See your ad here

                            "Communication is the problem to the answer", the old song goes and Mundine's mouth has always been his undoing. Tact, timing and eloquence have never been his strong suits. On issues relating to the Australian flag, national anthem and racism, he was a potentially important voice. But he always made a right royal hash of it. Pressed further, he'd backtrack, divert, and deflect. “They're all Uncle Toms baby,” he'd say, looking away. And he'd revert to trash-talking his opponent. Promoting his upcoming bout always buttered a lot more bread than nailing what he was actually trying to articulate.

                            Brash and bravado have never necessarily been deal-breakers for Australian sporting fans. When a miked up Shane Warne pre-empts bowling a batsman around his legs, we laugh. And when they stuff up, we are a pretty forgiving lot. Whether it's jockeys betting on their own mounts, Brownlow medallists wading across a river to avoid arrest or leg spinners reviewing Fifty Shades of Grey on Twitter, we cut them a lot of slack. A dose of humility, contrition and self-deprecation usually do the trick.

                            With Mundine however, the irony was never there. In many ways, Daniel Geale represents the greatest irony of all – this quietly spoken, physically unremarkable and earnest young punching machine. In Mundine's world of black and white, where everyone is either with you or against you, Geale must be particularly perplexing. The narrative prior to Wednesday's fight - punctuated by the occasional apology and handshake - included doubts over Geale's record in the ring, his Aboriginality and his right to fall in love with a white woman.

                            Last night's unanimous points decision is surely the full-stop on a strange, sometimes brilliant, often farcical and entirely unprecedented career. The Man who wanted to be the Australian Ali never came close to emulating him. Whether he's unfulfilled, underrated, misunderstood or all three, there's only one man to blame.
















                            Print StorySave






                            Latest News

                            Craig Thomson arrested by fraud squad
                            nice piece

                            Comment


                            • #44
                              Eloquent..
                              This is a fantastic article and pretty much says it all..
                              I don't often post but after I read this I was urged to.

                              Mundine is a goose !


                              Originally posted by spanner View Post
                              http://www.theleader.com.au/story/12...o-blame/?cs=12

                              Misunderstood Mundine has only himself to blame Save


                              By Jonathan Horn
                              Jan. 31, 2013, 11:12 a.m.

                              When he quit rugby league to become a professional boxer, Anthony Mundine donned his leather jacket, sucked on a Chupa Chup and fielded questions. Throughout the press conference, he clutched a faded hardback, Muhammad Ali's book The Greatest. He was glowing. Like a young Ali, no one quite knew what to make of him.
                              For Mundine, Ali was always the blueprint. The PR stunts, the self-aggrandising, the hands-low, head-high fighting technique, even the move to Islam – they were all from the champ's manual. He even sought to emulate his crusade. In Inside Sport magazine, Robert Drane called Ali “Anthony's invisible friend, poorly channeled”…. “As an imitator of his hero,” Drane wrote, “he's little more than a cultural skeuomorph.”

                              Ali never pretended to be perfect. In matters marital and fiscal, he was frequently all at sea. His humour was often scripted. When the talk turned to race, he could be every bit as clumsy, contradictory and odious as Mundine.

                              But his deft touch, rhythm and unpredictability – the hallmarks of his success inside the ring – were also the makings of him outside of it. Most of all, he had a certain irony. He would say things like, “If someone told you some nigger boxer from Louisville, Kentucky, would become famous as Jesus Christ you'd tell them 'You Crazy'. But I did it.” And then he'd start laughing and reel off a poem. He revelled in the absurd theatre of it all. Whereas Mundine's glower betrays a certain anger and distrust, Ali's radiated warmth. His pupils danced. “You ain't as dumb as you look,” he'd say to Soviet General Secretaries, sports broadcasters and second graders. Momentarily mortified, they'd quickly see that glint. And they were won over forever.

                              Deep down, Mundine knew he could never match that wit or that colossal talent. But he could have a similar impact on his people. When he was a kid, his father would regularly drive him through some of the most squalid areas of Sydney. He'd point out the drunks throwing up on the streets, the drug deals, the hookers, the lurkers and the destitute. Live a clean, honourable life, his dad told him. And make a difference.

                              Indeed,when it came to Aboriginal empowerment, Mundine initially loomed as the right man at the right time. This super-confident young athlete was addressing issues that most wouldn't touch. In an age where most sportspeople parrot lines with all the spontaneity of a police media spokesperson, Mundine always spoke his mind.

                              But no one could ever work out what he was trying to say. "My people" always figured prominently in his sentences. The problem was, he was always picking fights with them. They weren't Aboriginal enough. They didn't stand up for their brothers. They were just puppets for the system. Whereas the likes Catherine Freeman and Adam Goodes were genuine role models, Mundine seemed forever intent on dividing, squabbling and speaking sideways.


                              See your ad here

                              "Communication is the problem to the answer", the old song goes and Mundine's mouth has always been his undoing. Tact, timing and eloquence have never been his strong suits. On issues relating to the Australian flag, national anthem and racism, he was a potentially important voice. But he always made a right royal hash of it. Pressed further, he'd backtrack, divert, and deflect. “They're all Uncle Toms baby,” he'd say, looking away. And he'd revert to trash-talking his opponent. Promoting his upcoming bout always buttered a lot more bread than nailing what he was actually trying to articulate.

                              Brash and bravado have never necessarily been deal-breakers for Australian sporting fans. When a miked up Shane Warne pre-empts bowling a batsman around his legs, we laugh. And when they stuff up, we are a pretty forgiving lot. Whether it's jockeys betting on their own mounts, Brownlow medallists wading across a river to avoid arrest or leg spinners reviewing Fifty Shades of Grey on Twitter, we cut them a lot of slack. A dose of humility, contrition and self-deprecation usually do the trick.

                              With Mundine however, the irony was never there. In many ways, Daniel Geale represents the greatest irony of all – this quietly spoken, physically unremarkable and earnest young punching machine. In Mundine's world of black and white, where everyone is either with you or against you, Geale must be particularly perplexing. The narrative prior to Wednesday's fight - punctuated by the occasional apology and handshake - included doubts over Geale's record in the ring, his Aboriginality and his right to fall in love with a white woman.

                              Last night's unanimous points decision is surely the full-stop on a strange, sometimes brilliant, often farcical and entirely unprecedented career. The Man who wanted to be the Australian Ali never came close to emulating him. Whether he's unfulfilled, underrated, misunderstood or all three, there's only one man to blame.
















                              Print StorySave






                              Latest News

                              Craig Thomson arrested by fraud squad

                              Comment


                              • #45
                                IMO this highlights the problems with Fartbook and Twatter etc.

                                Nothing wrong with sticking by your mate after a fight like that and backing him the way $BW did, in the heat of the moment. I'm sure all the hangers on said and felt the same way. As would Geales supporters after the 1st fight.

                                But when you shove that heat of the moment opinion out there like $BW did well sometimes you are gonna regret what you say with the emotion running high. Good to see he saw sense in the morning and apologized for his emotional rant.

                                I know a lot of you see no problems with this sort of communication but IMO this highlights the dangers of such technology especially in Sports.

                                This sorta stuff isn't going away, it will only get worse.



                                The FlogPen .

                                You know it makes sense.

                                Comment

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