Derby Round-Up

116843al.jpgIf you thought I had nothing to say about the greatest football game ever played in Western Australia, you were sadly mistaken. Likewise, if you thought I was far too mature and sensible to engage in cheap triumphalism at the expense of the soft, chardonnay + shandy drinking metrosexuals that are sometimes referred to as the “West Coast Eagles”, then you’re obviously a first time reader of this site. Welcome!

1. Ashley Macintosh is now, and has always been, a ridiculously untalented hack who couldn’t get a game for most WAFL sides. His success as a member of the West Coast Eagles was due mainly to biased umpires throwing away the rulebook and pretending to be ignorant of the rule known as “Holding the man”.

His continued appearance in the league side is a mystery to any viewer who likes to pretend that John Worsfold selects the team on merit rather than nepotism. If he is suspended, as he rightly should be, for the sickening elbow cheap-shot on McPharlin that some Eagles fans like to pretend was a fair hip+shoulder, then justice will be served as he waves his career goodbye from the stands while watching his teammates get pummelled by the Crows next weekend. Good bloody riddance to the most overrated player WA has ever seen.

Did you like that? Good! Read On!

2. Chris Judd is a whining little girl, and as such there is no doubt that he will continue his career at the Eagles for as long as he plays the game. No self-respecting team would ever put up with the crybaby performance that Judd put up on Saturday, with the possible exception of Richmond.

As an aside, if Richmond do trade Richardson at the end of this season, as has been suggested, then the Eagles is the only logical destination for him. No club would put up with his prima-donna antics other than Wet Toast, and they are going to need someone over 5’2″ in the forward line with Slapovich retiring and McDougall being too frightened to ever take the field again after getting his jaw broken by Paul Hasleby. It’s a match made in heaven.

3. Every single player in the West Coast team completely choked in the final quarter when the game was on the line. This was, of course, no surprise to anyone, as they have always been a team of chokers who would never have won a game if they didn’t monopolise the entire WA talent pool for the first 10 years of their existence.

4. Poor old Glenn Jakovich. He unfortunately injured himself before he could start a girly slapfight with someone. Probably went home early to get an early start on kicking some puppies.

5. Even as a diehard Freo fan, I once doubted our ability to win a premiership. On the balance of finals experience and our interstate record, it was always going to be a long shot.

After the first 5 minutes of the game, I realised that it was always possible that Jeff Farmer could pop up and win a game off his own boot at any stage. Then he continued his long running campaign to be the first person to commit suicide on the footy field. Last week he deliberately ran into the fence, and this week he tried to snap himself in half. He’s a very strange man.

I can’t really describe Jeff Farmer any better than Mark Duffield did:

Jeff Farmer, a sometimes tragic, sometimes heroic figure of Shakespearean proportions, had ignited the match and his Fremantle teammates with a spectacular two-goal burst and been carried off on a stretcher after hyperextending his back trying to milk a free kick. It was as if Farmer had symbolically captured his entire career in half an hour: a rich mixture of brilliance and self-inflicted damage.

He kicked one ridiculous goal where he just decided, fuck it, I’m kicking this inverse torpedo from the boundary line, and if Chris doesn’t like it I’ll go play for Tambellup. Then he missed one from 20 metres out and directly in front. Jeff likes to keep everyone guessing. You’d think that there’s nobody like him in the AFL, but you’d be wrong. More on this later.

6. We have lots of ruckmen, and all of them are quite good. Things don’t look good for Blocker. Perhaps one of the Victorian sides will remember to draft a ruckman this year?

7. Almost 600,000 people watched the telecast of the game in Perth. When you take out Kiwis, foreign students and people with no eyes and ears, the only people not watching the TV coverage in the entire state were the 45,000 who actually got tickets for the game. Dave and Wazza are probably heartbroken.

8. Paul Hasleby is a mighty fine player and had a good game on Saturday. However, it is one of the greatest injustices of the modern age that Paul Medhurst didn’t win the Ross Glendinning medal.

Medhurst obviously watched Jeff Farmer in the first quarter, and was far from impressed by what he saw. In one of the best displays of mimmickry since Val Kilmer twirled his pewter mug around in his fingers in “Tombstone”, Medhurst decided to show Farmer how to kick a goal from an impossible angle 50 metres out, then followed it up by missing a sitter shortly after.

Instead of finishing his performance with a brainless stunt, however, Medhurst followed it up with 2 more brilliant goals, and an even more brilliant celebration that would put Robbie Fowler’s lime-sniffing antics to shame.

In fact, fuck it. I’m glad Medhurst didn’t win the “Ross Glendinning Medal”. His good name would be tarnished by associating with decidedly un-super players like Glendinning. There should be a Paul Medhurst medal, and it should be awarded to Medhurst every time he plays.

Medhurst isn’t just a player, he’s a walking ball of greatness. Despite his talents, he subliminally convinces coaches to play hacks like Michael Pryor and Kasey Green on him day in, day out. Then, he proceeds to hand them their worthless asses, jump on their heads, and run around in circles pointing at his ethnically confusing leprechaun afro.

The strangest thing about Medhurst though, is that despite Medhurst kicking 48 goals this season, people still talk about Jeff Farmer all the time. Why would you talk about Farmer when Paul Medhurst is right there? I don’t understand.

Why, in fact, do people write articles about any AFL players when they could be writing about Medhurst? There’s so much yet to be explored.

How does a Singaporean son of the capitalist elite go from being an academically gifted midget gymnast to the most beloved freakshow at a football club captained by Australia’s most famous South Korean socialist in a sport where they are the only 2 players of Asian decent to play, ever? Is it some kind of conspiracy? Why doesn’t Paul Keating take a break from making pig manure castles to explain why Medhurst is proof of Australia’s need to further engage with Asia, if only to increase the chances of more Medhursts?

I’m almost afraid to go to classes nowadays because the preponderance of Southeast Asian students there makes me nervous that one of them is going to lick their hands, jump on my head, take a mark, kick my textbooks through the big sticks, then start grinning like a cheshire cat, running around in circles and doing somersaults. How can anyone study effectively when facing that kind of uncertainty?

Please Explain.

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