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November 28, 2008

Episode four SOUTH PERTH

The Silvertails v South Perth 75/69



The South Perth howler monkeys came to town. The Dalkeith boys were unable to hear themselves think for the first ten ends. It was worse than sleep deprivation.

John “the Pope” McCormack, who is three parts deaf anyway was seen shoving bowls rags into his ears in an attempt to reduce the noise. It was like one of the early scenes off Saving Private Ryan. Communication between the thirds and skippers was only possible via mobile phone but even that was difficult.

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The Greenkeeper sez OK ---------------The Beekeeper sez get rooted

All this after it had poored down, half the games around town were abandoned and this one was on the brink of going the same way. But good sense and a handy satellite picture saw the relevant authorities hold their nerve and the game got underway by three PM.

Some serious breakdown in communications early saw some big problems early. The Kracker was down to the Lunn rink to the tune of 0/14. He couldn’t blame communication breakdown coz he doesn’t listen to his third anyway.

The Gypsy was down 2/15 to the Mat Illul rink. The Gypsy entered the match with a plan that he shared with his team just before the match started. “We get them while there off guard”. It was clear from the first end however that they were clearly on guard and that is where the Gypsy’s plan unravelled and with no immediate contingency plan, and bad communications, he was soon up to his bottom lip in shit.

Luke Richardson who began his Silvertails one red skip career with a great win last week, got out of the blocks well against Nick the “Ray Gun” and Tom “the Bomb” was going neck for neck with the Ross Bresland rink.

The Gypsy v Mat Ellul 15/18


The Gypsy should be banned from thinking. He doesn’t do much of it at the best of times and when he does, its generally dangerous or costly to those around him.

Gypsy + Thinking = Dangerous

If he was ever involved in an accident and declared brain dead the obvious question to the neurosurgeon would be, “How can you tell”. And so his plan to catch Matt Ellul off guard early (did he think someone had, out of the blue, called Mat away from a liver transplant and sprung a game of bowls on him) was not filled with much merit.

His decision to go short early worked a treat, worked like a charm in fact, catching his entire team off guard. When you’re playing a team who plays predominantly on 14 – 17 second carpet, and your greens are running at 11 seconds, you go as short as you can????.

At 2/15 someone suggested to the Gypsy that that plan may not be working and a new plan may be betterer.
The fact that all the South Perth players were playing well and the front end for the Gypsy were playing like a bag of shit the Gypsy put down to form, considering the Beekeeper had come off a career best game the week before as had the Stallion.

In the event the Dalkeith boys did hold numbers whacking from 24 meters was a mere bagatelle (a light piece of music for piano or something of little value or significance) for Mat Illul.

Well the new betterer plan was longer and longer was betterer. The Gypsy and the family clawed there way back into the match getting to within three shots and even had some chances to win the match.
But you don’t give leads of that nature and expect to claw them back and so it proved to be. The Beekeeper, the Stallion and Free Willy Tan were according to the Gypsy terrible and the Gypsy takes full credit for the come back but distances himself from the first half train wreck.

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One of the most enigmatic smiles in the world, and a small, shitty old painting in the background.

The heavy track did not suit the Stallion who prefers to be on top of the ground.

As you may be aware the Kracker sacked the Stallion as a three last year because he was scared of him and he could not get him to do what he was told.

He is a pig rooting, impossible to control Stallion with big sacks, and good luck to anyone who tries to put him in a float, or put a lead rope over that perfectly coiffured mane.

In fact in the final against Thornlie, the Kracker tried to get the Stallion to change his shot when the Stallion had made up his mind as to the shot he wanted to play. The Kracker, not knowing when to leave well alone, became insistent, and pushed the point. Luckily someone was there with a camera and it’s pretty easy to see why the Kracker and the Stallion parted company shortly thereafter.

The video of the incident can be seen on:

Here

The Bomb v Ross Bresland 20/12

Half way through the match the score was 8 all which reflected the tightness of the contest. The Duke, who had put himself as lead in an attempt to show the Mad Dog exactly how it should be done, showed exactly how it should be done and his performance was the standout of the day.

Having completely couch f#@##ed his back three weeks before, the Duke had no choice but to hand the skippering reigns to the Bomb and put himself lead in an attempt to ease the pressure on his back.

He has had to develop a new bowling action to accommodate the bad back. Now instead of stepping forward as is customary, he now has to slowly lower himself down vertically, very much like a bloke with a completely rooted back trying to pick something up off the floor, or a workers compensation claimant when he thinks the investigators cameras are on him.

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The Duke -----------------------------The 2007/8 Duke

When he gets to the point where his legs are shaking like a dog shitting razor blades he ceases the downward momentum and hovers while his thought processes move to his bowling arm.

Now because of the back the Duke can not take his arm back past the vertical because it twists the back, pinches a nerve and his legs collapse. So any forward force on the bowls can only be imparted with the fingers and an upward snap of the wrist

Following the release of the bowl, he’s usually bathed in sweat and has to be helped up by the second and third and escorted to a lazy boy recliner. It is therefore one of the miracles of the game that, given the Dukes condition and his new delivery, on a doughy eleven second green, that the Duke was outstanding. Go figure!!

But even with the Dukes stellar up front performance it was not enough to get the boys over the line. Although there was no standout from any of the other South Perth players their collective ability to just get one in, through a combination of some good bowls and a little good fortune (“ya never heard us whinge Bob”) saw them pick up ones on a constant basis from the middle part of the game onward.


The Bomb – says he looks at the shoulder of the bowls arc to get his line. The photo was taken when he was playing a 3 meter end.

The Bomb struggled and had little luck, the Cleaver wasn’t to bad but clearly the greens where not to his liking, and the Dog, like a kid who suddenly realises that his mum won’t get him to wipe up the dishes if he keeps breaking them on a constant basis, may have seen his last stint as a lead or a two.

The Mongoose v Nick “Ray Gun” 23/18

The Mongoose has fitted beautifully in as a skipper with a perfect record so far this year, two from two.
He started the year with the Gypsy who was reluctant to let him go as a three, and mounted a piss poor argument as to why he should stay at three for the Gypsy, an argument, scratched on the back of an old scorecard in a mixture of poor Croatian and “wors inglush” which was later filed away in the Dukes filing cabinet under “S” for “Self Serving”. It could also have been filed under “Shit comma Total”.

He took on “the Ray Guns” rink, and the Gun, after losing just five games for the entire last year, is now in a position to match that record in a minimum amount of time. His cause was assisted some what when the Mongoose, in the space of two whacks, became the Goose, dropping a five and a six.

But the Mongoose has a pretty handy third in the Saint and the Saint doesn’t leave you in the poop too often and even though the Saint ground a fair bit of enamel off the teeth following the Mongooses generosity they were able to regroup and in the end seemed to do it comfortably.
There are four local boys in the Silvertails team, and three of them on the Mongooses rink, John McCormack, John O’Meahan and the Saint.
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--------------------------------“The Ray Gun”, sent packing

The Kracker v Stephen Lunn 19/19

Once again the decision to play the match in wet and sluggish conditions appeared to be a master stoke, when the best performed player at the club was down 0/14 after ten ends. Greg Regan, father of the “Ray Gun”, became a lethal weapon himself over the first ten ends. He had a nice photo put on Sherro’s website late last week and it seemed to inspire him so I’m f#$##d if I’m putting another one on.
Didn’t even get a thankyou, the miserable bastard.

The Kracker over the first ten ends was not firing on all eight cylinders and was on the verge of becoming Krakatoa. But you just do not get an easy game against the Kracker and he fired himself up to the point of being ugly.

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---------------The Krackerjack – working on a plan, mounting a comeback.

With The Shopping Trolley absolutely outstanding from end one to end twenty one, Rowdy and the Major began to chip in and by the last end.
the Kracker had worked a minor miracle and was only two down. That became all square thanks again to the Trolley and Rowdy but the Kracker’s last bowl lunge at the finishing line was not quite enough and he had to settle for the draw.

The Silvertails had turned a half time deficit of nearly thirty shots around and with two ends to go had got back to within four, but were unable to snatch the last gasp win.

After the match even though they had suffered their third close loss the Silvertails were still in high spirits. The Stallion was a laugh a minute and the Gypsy was still the life of the party.
Kracker said he would be OK if he was able to kill someone, and the Major, based on that information, locked himself in the shit house for an hour.

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The Saint, who is a mighty piss drinker to start with, and can still raze a carton at will, said he was just going to hook in and get smashed and put money on that no bastard could go with him.

The Saint self medicates.



“The 2008 Club Award for Outstanding Responsible Service of Piss”
Who the stuff votes on these awards? Half the team haven’t got licenses.

The Tasmanian, Tom the Bomb said he was upset but sex would bring him some comfort, but no such luck for the Bomb when it was discovered that no family or close relative for that matter lives in Perth and his mum was not due in town for another month. The Cleaver said he would give the mademoiselle a call if it would help out.

Willy Tan was heavily sedated, hog tied, and again put on suicide watch.
“If the little bastard gets hold of a glass he’ll open up every artery in his body and there will be claret all over the place”” warned the Duke. “If he wants a drink soak an old bowls rag in water and let him suck it – understand”!

There are four absolute gentlemen at the club; by complete coincidence they just happen to be the four non imported players. Rowdy is one of them, but after the piss had kicked in even he was a bit niggly following the loss.



“Get that f#!!*#en camera away from me ya blow in.”



The one guy who was not too upset was the Trolley who had a blinder of a game and you couldn’t get the smile off his face after the game



Later on however, the boys started to lighten up a bit. The Gypsy took it upon himself to cheer up the Kracker and that seemed to work well.

The Duke was quite rightly pissed off and announced a compulsory training session on Wednesday.

“Do we have to come”, asked the Trolley.

“No its compulsory optional you #!!*^en idiot”

John O’Meahan enquired as to if we had to wear whites.

“No” snapped the Duke

“May I ask a question” asked the Gypsy

“Yeah, what is it”

“What the #!!*^ is training?”

The upshot however is this. Four games one win and three reasonably narrow losses. There are blokes in career best form, the blokes who can only get better and another win is just around the corner.

If not, there is always the piss.