Football and other things

Yeah, I know I should be working on something else at the moment (sorry Eric – I will get to it this week), but I'm really not in the mood to do much else than catch-up with TV shows that I've recorded over the last week, sort through my latest batch of printed photographs, and start viewing the first three seasons of Deep Space Nine that I've purchased recently rather cheaply. (Big W were having a TV on DVD buy 2 get one 1 free sale during the week, so I picked up the first two seasons, plus a copy of the Mariners' 2013 Grand Final victory. Sanity also have a sale going, and with much resisting of temptation, I only purchased Season 3 of DS9. Three seasons of a show I watched religiously for the best part of a decade for under $100 was pretty much irresistible. Believe it or not, there are Season 1 episodes of the series that I missed for one reason or another... )

That and recover from football. It was a tough weekend. We lost both matches, going down 2-3 on Saturday, after leading 1-0, then 2-1. On Sunday, most of us being rather sore and sorry, and me having to play defence once again (instead of being in goals like I had originally planned), we lost 0-2, which was the half-time score. My contribution for the weekend was around 85-90 minutes, playing the majority of it on Saturday, and less on Sunday, seeing my latest injury wouldn't let me play too much longer. Though I rested up during the week (three days at home 90% of the time), my poor foot was still aching – the ligament damage in the plantar arch being harder to recover from than the calf strains I usually have to worry about.

I played better on Saturday than I did on Sunday I feel. However, both oppositions were playing hard games, and there was a lot of body-checks, hacking, even man-handling that went unpunished. Even I got a bit physical, bumping an attacker off the pitch as he was trying to make a break down the side-line. The appeal for a free-kick was ignored, seeing I indicated I used nothing more more than my hip and knees. (That and the player was off-balance trying to get around me anyway. I just helped him on his way... ) Sunday though, it was yours truly that was bowled over in the penalty area during a rare corner down their end of the pitch. I even copped a boot across the thigh at some point during the second match. The sprig marks are still there.

Unfortunately, two goals got past me. The first, which was the winner on Saturday, came from a free-kick. I was left to mark one of the strikers, who was a good head taller than me, and he put that to good use, scoring the winner off it. The second, on Sunday, saw me (and one of the other defenders) with the afternoon sun in our eyes. Somehow the goal-scorer avoided it, and put it in the bottom right-hand corner of the net, the keeper's hand unable to stop it from going in.

Did I feel too upset over them? No, not really. They were just part of the ongoing problems that we were having defensive wise, that the mid-fielders (especially the wide ones) were still not dropping back enough times to help defend. Though in our second game we did not conceded any goals in the second half, weren't able to get any back, which high-lights our main problem – we have not been taking our chances. We should not have lead twice in the first game then lost, and we should at least gotten one in the second half of the Sunday game.

Apart from my current niggling injury, my main problem it seems comes from a lack of an appreciation of my defensive abilities from certain member(s) of the team. In my current “Renaissance” period, I shouldn't be harbouring such negative thoughts, but it can't be helped, considering I spend three or four hours a week with the person every weekend during the winter. I'm referring to the gent whom I share the ride with down each and every weekend to play. I think I have gotten to know him too well, and honestly, I don't like what I know. Those that have known him longer say he means well and is harmless. I see a gent who has a one track mind, who makes himself out to be far better than he is (especially on the pitch), is a tight-wad, probably quite racist, and, despite all his boasting that he would be there to defend a player on the pitch if it came to it, he's a physical coward, seeing he deliberately shies away even from a soccer ball that's kicked at him. On Sunday he was actually charged by an opponent and went over, and immediately came off. He said he had an injury, but he didn't look that worser off to me. (At least four of us, including myself, played yesterday with minor injuries.)

He also doesn't engage the brain before he opens his mouth either. I was quite offended on the car ride home yesterday when he said 'We're really missing Shankar (a defensive player from last year's side) – he and Michael could support Rod at the back.'

So, where do I play then mate? I've worked very hard to improve as a defensive player in this side, considering that I was initially recruited as a goalkeeper. I have received a lot of favourable comments from other players on the side, including the on-field captain, the current keeper, and the team's manager. (Actually, the manager said that when he got the new keeper last year, he gained two players, seeing that I could now serve as an extra defender seeing the side had no dedicated reserve defenders.)

So, it's obvious what my response should be. I shut up on the car rides, and say nothing, like I did on Sunday. I'm in no mood for an argument and I'm not out to disrupt the harmony of the side. (I can leave that to other people... ) My closest mate, Rod, knows the situation with me, and especially knows the problems that I have had dealing with this gent. (The travelling “restrictions” imposed on me by this chap have been made light of by us both. Two in particular, not being able to use the handle on the inside of the car door because I may get my greasy fingers all over it, and not being able to raise my arm inside the car – as the steam generated by my arm-pits my fog up the windows, seem incredibly anal.)

Sigh. All I want to do is play soccer. Why do off-field antics make things so complicated?

At least, not as complicated as the Russian Civil War. The book of the Australian involvement in the 1917-1920 conflict that I've been reading (ANZACS in Arkhangel, by Michael Challinger) makes the war sound incredibly confusing. I hadn't realised, that at the time of the Russian Civil War, the Finns were declaring their independence and then fighting their own civil war (divided up the same way as the Russians – red and white), with the Karelians of the Kola Peninsula seeking autonomy from the old regime as well. The Russian Civil War though wasn't fought like other wars – great chunks of territory changed hands without major engagements (which were few and far between) as sides over extended themselves, the fronts collapsing, and the territory changing hands. Villages and townships changed hands often enough for civilians to change their allegiances to suit their current masters overnight, and even keep two sets of flags to display.

The Australians made a small part of the British contingent, having first to be discharged from the Australian Imperial Force (but being allowed to keep their uniforms and their hats – the latter being a big sticking point), before being recruited into the British Army, along with other colonials – Canadians, New Zealanders, and South Africans. The one thing they couldn't keep, however, was rank. One Australian officer, a lieutenant, who had worked his way up through the ranks, was accepted into the BA – as a corporal.

It was interesting to note that there a few refused service with the “coalition of the willing” force for a variety of reasons, one (a former POW, interred by the Turks for three years) believing his application to join the force was vetoed by the then Australian prime minister; another, the infamous Francis de Groot (the same gent who “opened” the Sydney Harbour Bridge on horseback with his sabre), was knocked back because it was believed that his administrative skills in occupied Germany were too valuable to lose if he went to North Russia.

Despite the smallness of the Australian contingent (officially - around 150), two of them (the only two of the entire interventionist force) were awarded Victoria Crosses: Corporal Arthur Sullivan from Crystal Brook in South Australia and Sergeant George Pearse, from Mildura, Victoria. There was also 8 recipients of the Distinguish Conduct Medal. Volunteers were well paid (which was a major incentive to join the force) but had to endure weather conditions which saw the top soil frozen over for six months in the year, then thawed out to create swamp like conditions, which obviously made it hard to transport supplies to outposts.

The book flows nicely, exploring the reasoning behind sending the force there in the first place (to protect and remove the large quantities of supplies transported to the ports of Arkhangel and Murmansk, making sure that they didn't fall into Bolshevik hands), to the various reasons why soldiers volunteered to serve in the force in the first place. There is also a section about the author's trek trying to visit locations where the Australians' fought. There are some enjoyable little anecdotes, including a small group's reconnaissance trek which allowed them to engage in a lot of hunting and fishing (using rifles and hand grenades), to the establishment of a rating system of the fighting qualities of various nationalities. Australians, unsurprisingly, scored 100, whilst the Americans didn't rate highly (scoring 50), but they did outrank the Chinese (0.5), the Portuguese (0.1) and the Egyptians (-100). To demonstrate the esteem to which the diggers held their former enemies, the Turks, they were second on the list with 98.

So far, a great read, and well recommended if you want to learn about a very little known chapter of Australian military history.

Reading and footballing aside, I had an opportunity to take pictures again. Whilst staying with Rod over the weekend for the double-header, I was able to go on a Sunday morning walk with him and his son and take a few pictures along the way, then get most of them printed up today. (I'll sort through them later.) I was pleased to actually add another bird to the collection. A common one that I hadn't had – the Starling.

Prior to that, I went on a shopping expedition (which included getting more pictures printed up) to acquire a new set of winter manchester. It was time, I felt, to update the blankets/quilts in this house, and even get some new pillows as well. Event today I continued to shop and purchased a new set of shin pads, seeing my older ones were well and truly on their way out.

And I even managed to spend some time working on my long-suffering Feudball sequel, giving it a thorough overhaul last week. I was sort of hoping to finish off the twelfth chapter today if I had the time, but just had to get out of the house in the morning, then got side-tracked watching DS9 and taking a long time to rattle off this blog.

Speaking of which, it must be around dinner time. Best to get it started. Ciao!

A day at home???

Well, a very unique experience today – I stayed at home. I didn't go beyond the confines of the yard and even slept in until 11.30am (after waking around 6.30am for an hour or so). I had Medieval Total War 2 running for most of the day, in-between typing up my BB Blog, answering a few e-mails, and catching up on TV shows I recorded recently. Tomorrow, I may just do it again, seeing all I have to do is go to the Mariners match against the visiting Chinese heavyweights Guangzhou Evergrande, which kicks off at 7.30pm.

Yesterday, work was quite casual. We got away before 10am, and despite me hobbling around Woy Woy during the morning, and delaying the run by creating a few seven degrees of Kevin Bacon (there's one I'll have to detail that I'm quite proud of), we finished on time, and I was home around 4.30pm, after stopping off at the local shops along the way.

The biggest problem we had to contend with was the fact that the boss had apparently ordered (again) too many newspapers. This time around, it was in the order of 11 bundles, which seems rather unusual. The previous delivery we were about three or four over. It may not seem much, but considering that's 550 papers, and it's not as if we can just dump them all somewhere and come back to the shop with an empty van, especially when we don't discover that we're that much over the limit until mid-afternoon. Of course, if we drop too many extra papers off at places, we run the risk of having too many to pick up on the next run (all part of the service), and/or annoy the staff and managers of the places that we leave the extra papers at so much that they may not want to have the papers there in the future. (It has happened with another paper we deliver.)

Anyway, to be honest, if that's the biggest problem we ever have during the day, then it has been a good day. We've just learnt to just accept it, and let the boss deal with it. Two or three bundles, yeah, but not eleven.

Oh, yeah, Kevin Bacon to Orson Welles:

• Kevin Bacon featured in Sleepers, with Robert de Niro.
• Robert de Niro starred in The Untouchables, with Sean Connery.
• Sean Connery (as James Bond) in You Only Live Twice, with Donald Pleasance as Blofeld.
• Donald Pleasance was in Looking for Parsifal, which also featured Orson Welles.

Yes, I did need a little bit of help from IMDB (thankfully I have a mobile app for the site) for the last link. I was actually looking for film that featured Orson Welles and Laurence Olivier (seeing I can put Olivier and Connery together in A Bridge Too Far) but that obscure one was just as good.

Mind you, the one that the driver came up with linking Bindi Irwin (the late Steve Irwin's daughter) to Kevin Bacon was pretty darn good as well, seeing she has only done one film...

Just watching a doco hosted by rock legend Henry Rollins. It's the last of a series of shows he's done for National Geographic on the Animal Underworld. At the moment in this show, he's in Vietnam, drinking various liquids from a cobra he has paid for the privilege of. Then he gets to eat it. Not something that I would do personally, but then, I do eat kangaroo on occasions (just sausages mind).

In the series he's met evangelical snake handlers, those who inject snake venom, worshippers of rats and cows, and so far on this show – people who eat road-kill. I must admit, that last one has some practicality, considering it gets rid of carcasses from the side of the road. In the United States, various states have laws regarding this. Alaska, for example, it's illegal, seeing an agency goes out to collect them, then cook them up for the needy. Another (West Virgina I think), small dead animals are anybodies, whilst larger creatures you need a permit. (Imagine, you could clean up here in Australia seeing how many dead roos or wallabies I've seen roadside.)

Then of course, there's the medicinal side of animals, from milking venom from snakes, to the various body parts offered for sale, or to drink the wine of various animals (or parts of animals) in jars – birds, goat foetuses, horse penises...

I think I'll change topic to football. We lost last Saturday. This time going down 0-3 to the side running first in the competition. All three goals came early in each half (two in the first, one in the second) from errors. The first, which I had a small part of, resulted from a misdirected clearance from a team-mate, which glanced off my foot, straight into the path of an attacking player, who put it away. Goal two came from a misunderstanding between the keeper and the same defender. The third, just some overly casual defence which was taken advantage of.

Our biggest problem at the back, is the wide mid-fielders (think wingers), not dropping back to assist every time, or to keep track of the players that they're meant to mark. On occasions, I'm finding myself having to keep track of two, or sometimes three players, where I should be just taking care of one. (And generally, I get the faster ones... )

And then I get told by the mid-fielders as to which player I should be marking. My usual response during a game is “You just worry about the player that YOU'RE meant to be marking”, placing the emphasis on the word in capitals. Of course, there are ego problems. Some players think that they're a lot better than they actually are, but are unwilling to admit it. Some players need to start games, some need to finish and get upset when their wish isn't met. Some need a certain amount of time on the pitch, can only play certain positions, won't pass the ball to certain people...

Sigh. Fair enough if we're playing for a salary. But this is meant to be for fun. I'll go on for 50-60 minutes, play hard, come off. I don't care if I start, or be on at the finish, or do it half and half. There is nothing wrong with my fitness. I can play a full game if I have to. I go off to give someone else a run. (Or when I'm injured.)

Got close to scoring last week. Corner, timed my jump nicely, but found the ball just a couple of inches above my head. Also had a player on my back to contend with as well, but he didn't impede me from not getting to the ball.

This weekend, a double header. Saturday I'll be in defence, Sunday I'll be in goals. I have no problem with that. I'm carrying to niggling injuries currently. It appears that I have damaged some ligaments in the plantar arch of my left foot, which prevents me from going at top speed across the pitch or putting my full weight down on the foot. I also have done something to my left wrist, how, I have no idea. Both were no doubt further aggravated by work on Monday.

Which is why I'm very tempted to stay at home again tomorrow, until it's time to head to the footy.

Sundays, I must say, are now turning into a gaming afternoons/evenings. The previous two nights I have had fellow gamers over to play board games, and this Sunday, despite the football, they'll be over again. I should be back around seven (depending on how late I leave the game). We've played a variety of stuff, and I've gotten so enthusiastic about it, I switched tables in the house, bringing the old kitchen table from my parent's home in Tamworth back into the lounge room, and moving the second computer desk back into the bedroom. The old kitchen table is slightly bigger, which does come in handy!

It sure is nice to have regular visitors. Which means I'll now have to keep the house tidy...

And finally, I had no success at the Gosford show. The three entries not only went unsold, but didn't pick up a prize. Has it put me off taking any more pictures? Nope. Tomorrow, the camera is going with me to the football, where I'll be taking more pictures to keep my Mariners' themed scrapbooks going. I finished one off, which contains enlarged pictures of all the matches I attended up until the semi-final against Melbourne Victory. I even managed to find scrapbooks close to the Mariners' colours – one dark blue and one an off yellow. I have 25 pockets in each. I must admit, the pictures are a nice touch to what has already been a memorable season. Tomorrow night's game will be the 21st Mariners' match that I have attended over the 2012/13 season, which includes a pre-season trial, a semi-final, the grand final, and what will be my fourth ACL match. I'm hoping that there will be a fifth...

Right. Time to spell-check this and post it. Then I might go back to my war in Medieval Total War 2. Ciao!

P.S: Got a belated birthday pressie in the mail yesterday – Alan Moore's “From Hell”. :)

Day after my birthday

Well, so much for staying at home today and taking it easy.

I wasn't planning on going out. (That was the whole purpose of Tuesday.) But seeing my photo order got stuffed up at Officeworks yesterday (for some reason, the machine printed up my 8x6's shots, but couldn't or wouldn't print up my 4x6's) and wasn't ready, I had to go back and collect the order this morning. And seeing I went to the Mariners match last night, and took more pics, I had to get them printed up as well. (Well, I didn't have to, but better a small bunch now than a really big bunch later.) So, rather than having to wait around OW once again, I ventured through Gosford to Erina Fair and got the second lot done at K-Mart. (Not as cheap as OW, but the staff are nicer there and one in particular quite likes my snaps.)

But going to Erina Fair was not a good idea – at least for my bank balance. Pics, lunch, a knee support for my latest niggling injury, Big W with a rather good bargain on scrapbook page inserts, Riot Art & Craft (on a whim and pleasantly discovered a sale on a good brand of scrapbooks) and finally a few groceries from Coles that I forgot to pick up yesterday. All done before 2pm so that I could get back home and pick up the laundry.

And that was just today. The last couple of weeks have been, well, memorable, and I have been busy. So busy that I really should stay at home one day in the near future and do absolutely nothing, but nowadays I find it hard not to let a day go by without doing something. The previous week saw me working on Tuesday (April 23) and Friday (April 26), the latter being a rather long day seeing we were endeavoring to squeeze two days of deliveries into one (made easier by school holidays being on so we didn't have to deliver to any schools), which had me starting work at 8.30am and finishing at 6.30pm. Wednesday I ventured over to the comic book store and took my laptop with me, in order to get some much needed work done on my personal website, and Thursday was a (photography) walk around Point Frederick, then back home to do a little more work on the site before uploading the new pages. Unfortunately, I couldn't transfer any files, as the server wouldn't accept my password. I checked with my IT buddy to see if I had the right protocols in place, but he couldn't log on either. Oh, and for Monday of that week, I renewed my membership at the club, after getting a lot of pics printed up – most of them being from the grand final.

The weekend, well, Saturday I played football, and we were hammered 0-7. By the time I got onto the pitch we were already down 0-4, and in the 30/40 minutes that I was on, they only got one goal, which resulted from a ricochet after I though I had my player covered. In the second half, I was kept extremely busy, constantly having to go wide to get to the player with the ball, then having to run back inside once the pass had been fired in. The problem? The outside midfielders (wingers) weren't doing their job properly on my flank, not sticking with their opponents, who would draw me out, which in turn allowed somebody else to have a free run in the middle because I was off covering somebody else. The end result was a) a rather lopsided scoreline, and b) me over-straining a calf muscle (again) and having to limp/drag myself off because of all the running around I was having to do. Unfortunately, it was my left leg, the leg that I haven't had any problems with.

This time, I knew exactly what to do – Rest, Ice, Compression, Elevation. It worked for the same injury in my right leg, and has worked well for this one. Saturday and Sunday nights it was quite hard to sleep, but by Monday morning (April 29), I was getting about okay whilst at work, but I postponed my planned birthday photography walk around Long Jetty and The Entrance seeing I didn't really want to aggravate it any further. Even then I still ended up shuffling around West Gosford for a bit before having lunch, then out to Wyoming to see the boys at the comic book store (and bought comics – DC's Before Watchmen spin-offs had me intrigued – I've already read the Silk Spectre series and have moved on to Rorschach) before heading home to get ready for the Mariners ACL match.

It was a rather strange feeling walking home after the game. On one hand, I was deflated from the 0-3 hammering we had received from Kashiwa Reysoul (one more monkey to get off our back – to defeat a Japanese team in the ACL) but elated at the fact that thanks to a draw in the other match in our group, the loss was, well, meaningless, seeing we were still a point ahead of the third team in our group.

But, at the time, it was looking like we'd get at least a draw, if not a win in this match. It was 0 all at the break, and we started well in the second half, unlucky not to go 1-0 up after McBreen had a pile-driving shot stopped on the goal-line by a defender early in the half. But as our opponents really put the pressure on us, the result of the other game became very important indeed. As the scoreline got worse for us at home, in China, the last placed Korean side, Suwong Bluewing (who we had beaten last Tuesday), were doing us a favour, going ahead twice against the home team, whilst fielding a second string side, then hanging on for a 2 all draw. Here, we were left on the edge of our seats after the game, as ours finished slightly in front of theirs, awaiting the news of the other game. I was almost across the football field behind the school when I heard the result from China, with what was left of the crowd roaring in approval as the result was announced.

Which means, we progress through to the knock-out stage of 16 in the ACL, which has only ever been reached by two other A-League sides before us – Adelaide United, and the Newcastle Jets. The latter didn't last that long in their solitary appearance, but Adelaide did make it all the way to the final one year. The Mariners have a chance to see if they can go all the way, but they will have to improve on their last effort when the next game takes place on May 15.

One wonders though if we'd get the same size crowd. The powers that be decided on a $10 entry fee, in order to get more bums on seats for the mid-week game. It worked – 7,623 spectators turned up, but one wonders if the same sized crowd would be there for the next match, considering the result. (And usually, they ain't.) Loyal Mariners fans, like myself, were rather upset about the ticket price reduction, and relevant Facebook pages contained numerous statements of “I bought my tickets before the price reduction... ” Yes, I could see the marketing plan behind this, but I wonder as to how many refunds were issued to those who paid $20 or more earlier on, or, like myself, who took advantage of the discounted $45 (season) members package for all three matches? I didn't even get a call about it. (The refund, for me, would've been minimal anyway, but it's the principle of the matter... ) One person joked, on the walk back to the car park, if the ticket price for the next home match was going to be reduced to $11 (since it is a second round match) to get more people in?

Before changing matches, I should add, that the Marinators, the unofficial supporters group of the club, were considerably more vocal during the game, initiating a number of Wanderers-esque chants to get the crowd involved, and continue to sing and yell their support even when it appeared the home side was well and truly beaten. I personally hope that continues for all future home games. Having finished reading this rather brilliant book during the week entitled How soccer explains the world, by US journalist Franklin Foer, I am reminded of a quote from the book, which was in reference to Barcelona FC, which went along the lines of that you can be passionate about your team (or country for that matter) without having to resort to hooliganism or violence. Amen.

It is something that I think Wanderers hard-core supporters should take note of. Sure, it's great you sing, and sing and sing, and do all that co-ordinated chanting, and get the rest of the crowd involved in the game, but gees, you don't have to throw flares every five minutes, or chuck bottles onto the pitch when a decision goes against you (or both), or get evicted for spitting at some poor lady in the row behind you because she's not supporting the same team that you are (barely ten metres from where I was sitting), or chuck water at the goal-scorer from opposing side (yeah – I definitely saw that on the replays), or acting like a bunch of monkeys exiting the stadium, or anonymously smart-mouthing the police from the safety of the crowd who are just doing their job because they won't let you walk across the road when you feel like it (by all means sir – just step out and see if the 373 to Coogee manages to stop in time... ) and all that was just during and after the grand final! The next time my guest to the game suggests walking back to the station with the opposition rather than getting a bus back, I will respond “sure – you can, but I won't”.

I hear and read all these comments made by reporters and TV presenters about how much of a revelation the Wanderers supporters have been, giving the A-League matches plenty of atmosphere this season. Of course, all this comes from people who haven't been amongst them, who haven't seen what they get up to on and off the field so to speak. I'm thankful (well, there's probably a lot of people thankful) that there hasn't been any major disturbances, but one can speculate that it could only be a matter of time. (However, there was a nasty little incident that did occur back in March before the Sydney FC - Wanderers derby... ) 

Mind you, after reading How soccer... , I can safely say that the Wanderers lot are definitely little-leaguers when it comes to, say, British football hooligans, or the supporter squads of the Balkans, who are like para-military units and have members who participated in ethnic cleansing operations during the 1990's...

As for the game? Superb! It was quite a relief when full-time came, and at one stage during the post-match celebrations, I was on the verge of crying. To have experienced a grand final win as a player was one thing, but to experience it as a supporter, who has been following the side through good times and bad for the last nine years, who has been attending matches in the heat, the cold, the wind and the rain since their very first game, and to be present when they defeat the side every expert had been saying was going to to win it, well, that was something else.

And you know what? Love or hate Advance Australia Fair as the national anthem, but when it's being sung by 42,000 people it can be quite a stirring song. Sure, it doesn't have the same effect like The Star-Spangled Banner, God Defend New Zealand, or Marseillaise, but in that moment, I actually felt quite proud to be Australian.

Tomorrow, well, monthly mental health support group meeting, then on Friday I have to drop off my photographic entries for the Gosford Show. Gees, that's something which I have never done before...

Finally, in closing, it's been three days now since I took my last anti-depressant.

And I feel good. Cheers!

Yawn. Too early.

Up before 6am once again. Tired, naturally, but just couldn't doze back off. Looking out the window I see an endless stream of traffic zipping past. I really don't need to wonder where it is all going. Most of it is heading west to link up with the south bound freeway.

Yesterday, when I was up at this time, I was greeted by the 24 hour news channel with pictures of the Boston Marathon attack. One has to admit, it was/is a soft target in a terrorist's eyes. High profile event, lots of people about, too easy to just slip in, drop a bag or two off, and just head off and watch the outcome on TV. I'm not saying security was slack, but two bombs went off, in a prime position near the finish line, and timed to go off when the bulk of the runners are coming through. The fact that other devices were found and detonated before they went off is probably very little consolation to those seen carted off in wheelchairs and staggering aimlessly around the street, after being struck by a ball-bearing(s) propelled by an explosive charge.

The price of freedom in the west, is eternal vigilance, but it appears, at first glance, that somebody was (metaphorically speaking) asleep at their post, and another terror attack has been successfully launched. Back in the days of the all-conquering Romans, if you fell asleep at your post, you were executed. One only has to read Livy's account of a Gaulish attack on the city, where a dozing sentry was tossed onto the rocks from a great height because he decided to have a nap whilst the hordes were climbing up the hill for a bit more plundering and slaughtering.

Historical anecdotes aside, one wonders why it hasn't happened in Australia. Is our security services that good, or have potential terrorists decided that it's not really worth the effort? I can think of dozens of events (and places) which would be fantastic targets for anyone wanting to achieve notoriety. At the moment, school holidays. Where could you go? Darling Harbour? Any number of shopping centres in the Sydney CBD? A bit further west out to Westfields at Parramatta? North to Hornsby or Chatswood? How about a sporting event? A-League grand final (which I'm going to) is on this Sunday. Guaranteed at least 20,000 spectators at Moore Park, and you'll have TV coverage as well. What about an entertainment event? I believe Billy Joel is in town and playing a big gig at one of the arenas...

Sigh. Sometimes it's a curse having an over-active imagination, but I feel, currently, that I could also be stating the bleeding obvious...

Long time readers of this blog will no doubt know that I am very, very happy that the Mariners have made it through to another season decider. This is the second one that I'll be going to, with memories re-surfacing of the last trip to Moore Park, when we were beaten by Newcastle. The new boys on the block against the perennial underdogs, first versus second, the best defensive teams in the competition. It's the grand final that experts had seen coming for months, and now, it's only four days away.

I must say, it was decidedly easier to get tickets this time round than it was for the semi-final against Victory. I hopped on line at just after 9am on Monday morning, and in the time-frame allowed, purchased two tickets which was all one was permitted at the time. I really can't wait, but I have to. I even have my own match to play before hand.

Season three (for me) is two rounds old, and we have a draw and a narrow loss so far. The 1-2 defeat we suffered last Saturday could've been a lot worse. The opposition benefited from a defensive lapse, where an opponent got a free-header (much like the goal scored against me in the first round), then they put away a penalty which had been given to them, where a defender had just left his arm dangling in the breeze, and was predictably struck by the ball. Ten minutes in, we were playing poorly, and they were 0-2 up.

I was on the pitch for around 40-50 minutes. I came on with about 15 minutes to go in the first half, then stayed on for most of the second. I was absolutely stuffed when I dragged myself off, having to deal with multiple incursions down my flank in the space of five minutes, all thanks to some mid-fielders who had surrendered possession too easily. We scored just before full-time, and had the game gone on for another five minutes or so, we could've bagged an equaliser, but them's the breaks.

Yesterday, I journeyed down to Sydney for a game of Blood Bowl. Today, I'm doing it again, but will be going earlier, seeing the weather is considerably more pleasing. Yesterday it was wet and overcast for most of the day. Currently, it is very, very blue. The camera will be coming along with me, and I am deciding where to go before my game later this afternoon. I should go somewhere that I haven't been for a while, or have never been to. Hmm...

But first, back to bed, for another hour or so of sleep, then to await the arrival of the real estate representative to carry out the inspection. Ciao!

Is it winter, autumn, or spring?

Wow, the sun is out!

Forgive my surprise/sarcasm but I've been so used to seeing rain this week it seems so unusual to see blue sky and fluffy white clouds. Still, it was good to get outside, and nice to take a few pics, which I duly did whilst in Erina. Wished I had worn spring clothing though.

As for pics, there's a small reserve near Erina Fair which I took a few pictures of (and walked through two spider-webs as well... ). Before the redevelopment of the shopping centre, five/six years ago (I think) one could walk through this reserve and wind up entering the centre near the ice-skating rink. I don't know if this is still the case, seeing that I didn't fully explore the trail, and that a lot of it is fenced off now, but I still got some nice bush shots. Nothing like a bit of overnight rain to enhance bush and floral images, but it can be a bit tricky to navigate one's way around without slipping over or getting too damp.

Whilst on the subject of images, another one of mine got placed in the current edition of Grandstand, the one Duck's Crossing Papers that I DON'T deliver. This image was taken at the recent Mariners vs Heart fixture (March 30) in Gosford, where the locals got up 2-1 in what was actually a pretty decent match. There was much relief (and joy) when our leading goal-scorer for the season (and subsequent A-League Golden Boot winner), Dan McBreen, scored from a penalty kick, thus ending our embarrassing run of missed penalties (five in all) and taking a 1-0 lead 35 minutes into the game. When Mitchell Duke put the second one in not long after he came onto the field in the second half, the floodgates appeared to be opening, but in usual style the Mariners missed a swag of opportunities, whilst the Heart converted a rare chance from a defensive error, which made the last 25 minutes or so of the match a little nerve-wracking.

(Number five and the second one for this year!)

And seeing I had a few days to myself, I also took the opportunity to go to a rare league match the day before (Easter Friday), at the Sydney Olympic Stadium, and see Souths take on Canterbury. That too, was actually quite a decent contest, and one couldn't help but think the red and green might actually be a premiership contender this year (I know the Raiders won't be, seeing that they currently sit at the bottom of the ladder), but seeing that we're only in the first week of April, there is still a lot of footy to be played before September. For the record, Souths won the game 17-12. Canterbury scored first, scored last, but it was the Rabbitohs which dominated the game.

(Bit hard to watch the game when you're short, considering the "supporters" stood for the entire match... )

I also got to a second Mariners game as well, with an ACL match played on a miserable, wet Wednesday night, against the visiting Guizhou Renhe side from China. With one half of the stadium closed up, the Mariners dug deep and overcame their opponents 2-1, after the score was tied 0-all at the main break. I should say, for most of the match, the visitors looked like that they would be content with a draw, but when defender Pedj Bojic opened the scoring with a superb strike mid-way through the second half, they stepped up a gear, but their offensive capabilities looked limited, even though they did trouble keeper Mat Ryan on a couple of occasions during the match, resulting in saves at point black range, they didn't look like they'd get one past him, except via an own goal, which did happen from a set-piece. But with Sainsbury finishing off a superb McGlinchey run and cross with a pin-point accurate header, the locals got their first win of the ACL, and look like that they could well get through to the next round.

(Another wet night in Gosford, but at least the supporters stay seated.)

I attended two of these fixtures with a friend of mine, Rod, and his son. We all got a lesson in crowd psychology (one could almost view it as anthropology) during the games, watching the various antics of the spectators, and listening to their comments, a lot of them being considerably biased or coming from a uneducated point-of-view.

I'm not surprised that I have acquired a number of socially related anxiety disorders. Being in a crowd, even a small one, really makes me insecure, and very wary, unless I'm with one or two people that I know. I also take a “shield” with me, my camera, which helps me get through fixtures that I attend by myself. I look at it like Linus' (from Peanuts) security blanket.

As you could imagine, going to a football match with nearly 52,000 people in attendance would also make me nervous, regardless as to how many people I'm with. Due to a strange ticketing arrangement in place for Easter Friday, despite Souths and Canterbury both having the stadium as their home ground, Souths were officially the “away” team, meaning we three had to sit in the away supporters section (the so called “Burrow”) seeing Rod's son has a Souths membership.

I won't say that the majority of footy supporters are stupid, but once inside the stadium, with a few plastic mugs of amber fluid in their guts and the sun in their faces for half-an-hour or so, most undergo a metamorphosis (including the women) – especially the die-hard supporters of a particular side. Their eyes change colour, to that of their teams, in their minds the referees can do no right, the opposing players which are hurt and lying on the ground are either viewed as wasting time or “soft” (but their players are viewed as genuinely injured) and when an opposing player takes a cheap shot at their player he's a mongrel, whilst your player that does it gets a rousing cheer and applause.

Terry Pratchett summed it up in his Discworld book Maskerade. “And, since the IQ of a mob is the IQ of its most stupid member divided by the number of mobsters... ” He also explores football supporter psyche in one of his more recent books, Unseen Academicals, where he both ridicules and praises the football mob.

I see it at league games, and I see it at football games. One “gentleman” (if he could indeed be called that) at the Souths game, a Souths supporter, sitting behind us wanted to show his support by unfurling his large Souths banner. He couldn't swing it, due to the fact that he was right at the back, and advertising signage from the level above us blocked him.

So then he concentrated on voicing his support of his side, in song, and in various verbal sprays. One particular song, it appears, no Souths supporter could remember all the words too. The revamped once popular tune (Aren't they all? There's no originality when it comes to supporter songs, and the same tunes have different words in every football code.. ) finished “walking along, signing a song, singing glory, glory, mumble, mumble, mumble...”

Then there were his questions directed to the referee later in the game. “Where's the penalty? We haven't had one all game!” To which I responded, which he naturally didn't hear: “I'll trade you your team's 11-6 lead for a penalty.” Souths, I should point out, I believe only got one penalty for the entire game, the one given for the spear tackle. Did they need penalties? Nope, they were doing fine without them. He often demanded “Give us a penalty!” at various intervals during the game. Both me and Rod commented that first the opposition had to do something wrong in order to give away a penalty. A mute point in this gent's mind.

It was the same at the footy. One gent sitting in front of us at the Mariners – Heart game cried out for a free kick when one of our players was shouldered off the ball. Rod and myself, both being current players, and well in touch with the rules, reminded him that that was perfectly legal. “Oh, right,” was the response. End of argument.

I also shook my head in disbelief whilst attending the mid-week fixture. Once again, I found myself, despite being only one of two people in the row, and with no one in the row in front of me, having to put up with people trying to squeeze past me to get to seats. I even asked them at one stage: “Why do you need to climb over me when there's an empty row in front of me?” Some people do have manners, and excuse themselves, but I find that that is a distinct minority.

Then there was the young adult who decided it was funny to make a face whilst I was trying to take a picture of the players warming up on the pitch. “I didn't find that amusing,” I said. “What did you say?” he asked, smiling. “You heard me.” And finally, the obligatory misunderstanding of the spectators when trying to find their general admission seats. Despite it being clearly written at the bottom of the ticket “Unreserved bays 16-32, 44-47 etc.” people still argued with the poor staff-member stationed upstairs near me about why they couldn't sit in Bay 48 overlooking the halfway line, causing a pedestrian jam of people trying to get to their seats. Extra staff had to come up and assist her, then shoo off people who sat in the reserved seats with unreserved tickets. One gent in particular was quite upset at being asked to move, despite the fact that there dozens of empty seats barely a metre or two from where he was sitting, still undercover, and still offering a good view of the ground.

(The staff-member in question was the blonde girl in the light-blue jacket... )

The point being, you could sit in Bay 48 during the A-League matches during the regular season. But the game against the visiting Chinese side wasn't an A-League match...

Spectator problems aside, I had fun acquiring tickets for the upcoming home semi-final. Being a Mariners' member, I was allowed to get tickets on the first day of sale (Tuesday). What I wasn't told, is that I could only buy ONE ticket, which I duly acquired on-line at 9am. I then waited in the queue at the Ticketek office for an hour to find out that I couldn't buy any more tickets, and that I'd have to wait until Wednesday to purchase more tickets, seeing that the gold members had to get their seating first, which I felt was strange seeing I was buying tickets for the unreserved sections and they sat in the reserved bays.

Wednesday morning, I hopped on-line at 9am again, and using my Football Family Member ID this time (they got second picking) I picked up a ticket for my mate Rod and his boy. The down side being was that I was slugged two lots of processing fees, meaning that the tickets cost me an extra $10.80. Grrr.

And as for work that day (the Peninsula News got pushed back two days instead of one, meaning I turned up at work on Tuesday and Wednesday when I only had to turn up on the latter), well, I got wet, again. Every time I had my emergency poncho on, the rain stopped. When I took it off, it poured down. Despite the inclement weather, we still finished our deliveries on time.

Actually, my team is sort of praying for more rain over the weekend. The football season starts for us tomorrow, and, just like last year, we've only 13 players for the opening match. I have to go in goals, even though I was originally going to play defence. (If there were two of me... ) Rod, thinking ahead, figured I was less likely to re-injure myself whilst in goals, where I could mask my current niggling injury to an extent. (A groin strain, which I thought was fine, is just giving me a little cause for concern today.) If I was playing defence, and got injured, I couldn't switch back to goals.

So I agreed with Rod. Our regular keeper is out with a hip injury, and a defender is off doing something else, which means he is going to be very busy, but not as busy if I WASN'T going in goals. So we are going to be hard-pressed at the back. If the match is called off, well, we wouldn't be too upset. But if it goes ahead, we'll carry on best as we can. (We did lose the first match last season 1-4 and look what happened... )

In closing, I have been purchasing quite a few DVDs lately and even some CDs. I picked up the second series of both Boardwalk Empire and Game of Thrones, plus re-acquiring the James Bond collection. (I had them all on VCR up to Licence to Kill.) I had a rather pleasant night watching Diamonds are Forever last night, and tonight I'll probably watch Goldfinger, or On her Majesty's Secret Service (or both).

But Game of Thrones has really grabbed my attention. The second series was just as good as the first, and once again I find myself liking certain characters, rather than supporting sides. My favourite character (and I think a lot of people whom I know like him as well) is the “half-man” Tyrion Lannister. On the opposite side is my next favourite, the tomboy Arya “stick them with the pointy end” Stark. Daenerys and her “babies” come in third. There are others. Tyrion's bodyguard and companion, Bron (is that right?) and Catelyn Stark's shield-maiden, whose name eludes me for the time being. I honestly can't wait for the third series.

Well, this rant has gone on for long enough. I think it's time to spell-check it and get it online. Ciao!