And so, as we pore over the bloody, mangled entrails of the Canberra Raiders’ eviscerated carcass following Thursday night’s mauling, mugging and gutting at the hands of reasonably-hot Roosters, it brings to mind the words of the great philosopher of our age, the bulbous and wise Phillip “Augustus” Gould, who once said:
“No, no, no, no, no, no, no.”
No, no, no, no, no, no, no, indeed Augustus.
No, no, no, no, no, no, no.
How bad was it? Answer: very bad. Michael Jackson’s hit record “Bad” bad. Dennis Rodman’s book “Bad” bad.
The critically-acclaimed yet flat-out disturbing and hideous Australian arthouse film Bad Boy Bubby bad.
That’s bad when you’re Bad Boy Bubby-bad, baby.
That, sports fans, is horrible. And it was. Bad as it’s been all year. Maybe last ten years. Maybe ever. Maybe not ever. I dunno. I don’t want to rank it. It’s too soon, too raw. Too real. It was worse than the disaffected patch mid-season when the halfback was homesick and the hooker miffed and the front-rower’s wife letting rip on Insta, whatever was going on there.
At least then you felt there was an excuse. Thursday night at BP Print Stadium in Mackay, was just flat-out inept.
You couldn’t fault the endeavour, as ever. They all wanted it. You can’t fake the eyes, Chico, they never lie. Maybe that was the problem. There was a - pick your metaphor, even combine them - headless chicken, rabbit in the headlights quality to their play. They appeared desperate, anxious.
And the biggest game of the year became a slow-motion car wreck, watchable only through splayed fingers.
At the 1996 US Masters Greg Norman was leading by six shots and shot 78 to lose by five to Nick Faldo. Afterwards in the media centre our Sharky was peppered with allusions to “choking”. Norman did his best. But eventually threw up his hands, physically and metaphorically and said: “I played like shit, okay?”
And the Raiders, in simple and technical terms, played like shit. And choked. And were flogged by 24 points.
Where to start? Straight to the right (and later left) wing, and Semi Valemei who appeared to trade hands for feet and turned in a Steve-Mavin-in-the-1987—Rabbitohs-v-Raiders-semi-final-at-the-SCG-like performance.
On that sweet September day three Mavin fumbles led to tries and he was hooked by George Piggins before half-time. Then he went to the pub and watched it on the telly. and there’s a good story about it we’ll tell in these e-pages.
Mavin later sat down in the Maroubra Hotel with his nemesis that afternoon, the late, great Peter Jackson, and asked was it a plan to kick to him, as Raiders club boss John McIntyre had declared.
Jackson put down his beer and scoffed: “Nah - you just dropped the ball so we kept kicking it to you.”
And that was the extent of the “plan” employed by impressive Roosters five-eighth Drew Hutchison who - playing like Jack Wighton once did - smelled blood in the water and bunted pin-point punts to Valemei’s wing for pay dirt time and again.
After the match Ricky Stuart declared that he’d pick Valemei in first grade next week.
If it would be instead of Bailey Simmonson you’d declare Stick off chops.
But otherwise it’s fair enough - a man’s body of work is more than a night of the fumbles in sweaty ol’ Mackay. He could win you a game, too, the 22-year-old Fijian. He won’t have forgotten to play.
Yet Stuart’s quote reminded of England rugby coach Sir Clive Woodward who was looking to motivate his team before a Test match against the All Blacks, and said: “There isn’t one of them that I would swap for any of you.”
In the pregnant, silent moments after Woodward’s declaration, outside-centre Will Greenwood raised his hand and said: “Clive - we are all behind you. But I think we’d all swap Jonah Lomu for Austin Healey.”
Can’t kid a kidder, as they say.
But I’m not calling bullshit on the Canberra coach. He knows the bloke. And he’s right when he said: “That’s not him.” Because how could it be?
But Jesus H. Christ on a hobby horse, Stick! He dropped the ball 34 times! There was a play when Daniel Tupou both stopped him scoring and stripped the ball. It was an odd, head-shaking piece of human movement that typified the Raiders night, and season. They just couldn’t get it done.
And the Chookies could because they were good.
The Raiders didn’t have luck, which means benefit from the crap shoot of the video review bunker system, whatever it is, of this National Rugby League.
To wit: Charnze Nicoll-Klokstad was penalised for a shoulder charge with his bottom on Matt Ikuvalu which begat a potential 8-point try. It was a play nearly identical to the one Jordan Rapana ripped off on Maika Sivo win the match against Parramatta Eels.
Rapana was then put on a report for a shoulder charge, and fair enough. They’re the rules. And they still applied, presumably, when Ikuvalu tackled Corey Horsburgh without his arms, a contact that jolted Big Red’s head and sent him off the field in distress.
This, of course, will read like sour grapes. They are. What other taste for grapes is there when you lose 40-16 to end one’s season. Everything’s sour. Corn flakes are sour. Your beer is sour (though it gets better, must be said).
And of course your milk is sour. And off. And curdled, and all the rest, as the terrible, evil smart-arses of your WhatsApp chat group so fiendishly declare in so many memes.
The Roosters? Again - they were good. Very good. Strong. They just played footy. Good, hard, no-mistakes footy. There’s something in the water at Bondi Junction as there is in The Yarra. The system, structures, whatever, are such that they can lose Jared Waerea-Hargreaves morning of the match and still hold their own with a forward pack the size of the Raiders’.
Where do we go? With respect to Matt Frawley, shopping for a halfback. And then into the off-season knowing that the footy club is full of very good players who, like Semi Valemei, had a Bad Boy Bubby of a night out.
So there it is, sports fans – sixth and last fully-free column of “The Milk”. Big Season Review coming up. And then we’re into podcasts, stories, and bits of kit which flow from the research for “The Milk” the book to be published in March of ‘22. Click Subscribe for a free yarn per week. Those who kick in $6 a month (or $60 for 12 months) receive all the bits of kit. Those who kick in $100 will be Founding Members and receive a signed copy of said book “The Milk: Forty years of Canberra Raiders in 20 games” - published in March of 2022. And they will be my favourites.
Give us a shout any questions re: the book or anything.
Go well. Go Raiders.