Match report 7 may 2009

4 or 5 to 2 (nannas went down hard)

CB(1), DC, JH(m), RH(1), TH, TK, AW(m)

The Captain showed us how the hassle is done. Moving right up to the goalie who had the ball and rebounding it off him back into the goal. Nice. And reminded us all why we still need him.

The other gaol was some classic 1-2-3 action by the Chas and Co. This was real wonder stuff. A blurr of nanna magic, some amazing passing, and a convincing goal.

The captain later took us to The (Maori) Chief, the original stomping ground of the nannas. Well it looked as though it may have returned to old form, with a couple of stray dogs at the bar, and only one other table occupied. Classic Chief emptiness.

Out of seemingly nowhere Jim took the moment to ‘lie on the couch’. His eyes glazed over. He decided to open up about what it’s like to grow up in boarding school. Took me back to scout camp, making fire sticks with Ah-Kay-La. We dob dob. I did get my tent badge in record time.

Anyway. It was a cold winter’s night and Jim had wandered into his neighbour’s room to warm up a little. He’d snuck a little bowl of crème caramel out of the dining hall to share together. Jim opened the door. Fast and without warning. The fat guy was going for it hard, painting the ceiling. And working up a real fat boy arse-sweat. I mean, it was strange that Jim didn’t knock. It was almost like he waited til he heard his breathing quicken through the walls, and then just pounced in.

They shared the pudding warm. Crème dribbling down their fat chins.

Coincidently the following night on SBS was the “ Search for the Perfect Penis” which had numerous interviews with a wide spectrum of tossers, and their various techniques. One guy talked about the 2 slices of ham in a sock. Another raved about the mango between the couch cushions. I just can’t believe they hadn’t interviewed Ghee and the shadowpump 2000.
 

Apologies to Jim if I may have enhanced some of the details.

THE NANNAS verus the REST OF THE WORLD

Results: unimportant…

CG; TW; TK; RH; CB; JH; DC; TH

The Nannas walked very tall this day. Who said that the nannas don’t put in for others.  This was an indoor tournament that hand selected the best teams from each division. Of course the Nannas had to be there.

The teams were all MUCH MUCH more, shall we say, competant than the brown brothers of soul. The nannas never dropped their heads.

Much commendation must be heaped on our cheerleaders as well. There was a massive squad of brown believers. They cheered with such vigour that we believed what they were saying and it drove the nannas on to greater heights than they had even risen before.

Of all the games we played (3) we drew the first, lost the second 2 – 0 and then lost the last 4 – 2. These results cannot be relayed as to how well. we did. The second game, against a team NO NAME were rated as the competition”s best. To only lose 2-0 is incredible!!

The last game we played against our old nemessis “THE BULLS” the team made up of referees and people who had represented their country at indoor. Once again the Nannas shinned. I don’t know how brown can shine, but we rubbed it so hard we did.

Hopefully the nannas can take this form with them into the rest of the season…..

Vs los pitufos 6-7
Th, DC3m*, JH1, AW1, TL, CG
*waiters

Kick off saw only 4 nannas on the court. 5 mind later the nannas were down 5-1. Reinforcements arrived and a comeback was on. 6-5 and we were looking good, but it was not to be. Thomas was playing some fine percentage play. Wal slipped in a Greek. Jim did some stuff. Kondo was in and out of goals. Holler pulled off a late arrival
And some fine saves. LCS scored a hatrick.

Ps. Happy 8th Birthday Elliot

Then to the waiters for overcooked and consequently sent back steaks, creme caramels and jim ordering LA style. All good. Swine flu still hasn’t claimed a nanna. The tournament starts in 20 mins… Still stuck I’m traffic… Is this the first iPhone report?

Andy Wong grabbed the bar and took that m.f. up to the top floor of the Eureka Tower, then he got a whole lot of sticky tape and stuck it on the roof. Now I’m not sure if anyone else can even reach the bar.

What started out as a harmless bye has been transformed into a potential monthly (every bye) event for the nannas.

We all floated up to the front desk and got our tables. Two, right next to each other (well booked Andy), the vision we beheld we ABSOLUTELY INCREDIBLE!! Picture about 40 tables all crammed in close together, and nearly all of them totally full. People were going really hard, smacking the ball, uttering small cries, and even some load yells. Behind the table tennis tables, but still in the same hall were two massive groups of Karate Schools. More crazy noise was coming out of here as well.

Thomas had earlier done a draw, so every thing was ready…(for Thomas to collate some stats)…Balls were polished, bats were sized up and the games began.

Incredible table tennis was played, Dan Crooks had the sneaky serve from hell. Jim used his big wind up arms to good use. Thomas had shot of the night, and Andy the organiser nearly pulled Jims pants down.

The Funky Nanna took out the inaugural Brown moment with a clean sheet.

This was only the beggining of the night, as Andy Wong then announced that we would be off to the Supper Inn. On the way we asked Andy what time he booked. Oh my God, he said, I never thought……… Well, we were not happy, as we walked to the restaurant, the City looked jam packed we thought there might be a special code violation Jim could enact on Andy, when we were forced to wait in a queue.

When we got to the Supper Inn, THERE WAS NO QUEUE, in fact the stairwell was TOTALLY empty. Dan took out the camera to record the moment. Andy’s night was SAVED! to perhaps become one of the greatest Brown nights of all.

There was a small matter of Jim declaring himself the new captain, but we’d best leave that “in the closet”.

6-8 Vs Los Pitufos

4 reports and a picture are up! This looks beautiful. Don’t you think?  AND It was awesome news Tao. Moving into northside! It will be the party time again. I really liked the tone you called us (good 8 years ago) as “Welcome party animals” when we stepped into your house in ST Kilda (with boxes of Beverage).

This Easter weekend started so messy as all of us mentioned.  The opponent missing 1 and ref was ten min late + allowing opponent to add player.

So the game started in chaos but I did have a good feeling as I like the feeling “storm in a tea cup”  and curious to see how this combination works. At the first half, both of the teams started sloppy but as you can see the numbers of the goals, there were a lot of good kicks happening in both end.

special mentions:
I saw Tao’s first goal stuck in the right edge of the Goal from 5m away. Unstoppable goal. I want to see it in every game.
Gilla was obviously performed as the best stopper. Pitufos had good skills of goals but it did not work for him. He saved at least 3 unreal goals and even scored our goal (not surprised).
James conducted our moves and dominated the field so many moments. Sharps pass and tight diffence.
Guido shown us the great Brazilian maneuvers to bring the balls always in the front.

I think that the game was very even. Unfortunately the opposition had 2 more at the last few minutes so we will fire more goals in the next game. I remember that all of us talking about “MORE SHOTS” in every half time.

Play aggressive for the semi final. Best run!

6-8 Vs Los Pitufos
JH(1)MOM, CG(GK)(1)(MOM), TK(MOM), Gudio(1), TW(3)(MOM)

Yes you read correctly it was an orgy of MOMs on this particular night my friends. All four Nanna’s that bothered to turn up, and didn’t take a little break from play only to turn up for the semi-finals, all deserved the honour of MOM for the night.

While the start of the game wasn’t looking too good for us when the opposition, with one player down, scored the first blow. We hit back with a goal of our own and then the Los Pitufos got fresh legs from any player turning up for the next game that felt like a bit of a warm up. And we know how the other teams love to have a shot at us. They are just jealous of our super cool team colours and that just pisses them all off.

Scores remained pretty level for most of the game. Started with a nice pass from Jim to allow me to put the first points on the board for the Nannas, and I mean for those Nannas that bothered to turn up the week before semi-finals. It was pretty much goal for goal from then. I managed to get a couple more, Jim snuck one in of the toe, There was a Giller special off their goalie. At least I think that’s what happened. And Guido slipped a ripper off the spot the no one was expecting. So at half time it 6-6.

And that was the last the last time we scored. Unfortunately the opposition decided they wanted to score a few more times and managed to put away another couple of goals…… with a little help from extra fresh legs from some more Anti-Nanna supporters that had just turned up.

Special mentions go out to

Gilla for keeping the goal difference to only 2

And to Kondo, who got in early with the I’m too soft to run a whole game call, then ran the game of his life and never faulted in his pursuit of excellence. nice work Kondo.

ANd the news that Gill is speaking of in his match report, should you have read his first, is that this little brown Nanna is moving northside.

Nannas verses Los Pitufos

6 : 8

TH 3, TW 1, CG 1, TK, JH 1Guido

The nanna’s were down and needed a fillin. In comes the brazilian. Jim was at one point happy to hear we were getting a brazilian but I had to break it to him. Not that kind Jim…….

Whoever we played were good. They pressed us and pressed us. But at half time it was 6:6 and we were in it with a chance. Alas they powered on right past us…..

Jim still wished we really did get a brazilian each. Instead Kondo treated us to  a very hairy dinner at a swinging Japanese joint down in deeeeeeep south town. Across the road from Glicks we gathered, all told our bagel stories, and got down to the japanese that promised so much.

And boy it hit the spot. Many thanks Kondo!!! Also Tao had a little anouncement to make as well. Maybe I will leave the suspense for his report!

this is a test

Nannas vs The Dirty Waffles

2 : 2

TH(1)-MOM, CG (1)-MOM, TW, TK, AW, CB, JH

“Shall I compare thee to a summers day?” Wrote the bard. “A rose by any other name would still smell as sweet”, he went on to say amongst other poeticisms. What I had writ before the internets eat it was of comparability with the Bard’s words. Pertaining to the first half I spoke of the struggle agin more talented and desirous opposition. I spoke of the micro-schisms appearing within the team. The bickering, the anger, the near knife fights, Jim’s woeful attempts at sledging, I wrote of it all as a rainbow describes the physics of light. I talked of our fortune at being just two goals down come the half time break, when the lord God Jesus and the lord God Buddha both concurred that we should be copping a caning reflected by a larger margin on the scoreboard. My words went on to describe how we came out for the second half – and at this stage I did a nifty thing with my words were I spoke of our pride and desire and faith in ourselves and I made it seem that we were about to come out and turn the tables using just the nobility of the Nanna and just when all your hearts were filling up with Nanna love and the Nanna chubbiness was filling up in your pants I fully flipped that shit right around and said NO! Nothing changed in the second half, we continued to play just as shitfully as we had in the first half, and there was still bickering and Nanna angst (nangst?) BUT somehow we kept at ’em. I wrote of Chassy shadowfooting and Tao’s anger was being channeled into the angry hustle, and I had this great literary montage of Gilla keeping them out against the odds in slow-mo with bitching diving saves using the Heisenberg Uncertainty Principle. And I fuckingwell wrote of of how we had a sub and they had none, and us exploiting that tiny chink in their half inch steel armour, in one glorious moment of literary and soccer genius where Chassy shadowfooted them right in the kajunties and drilled a pass to I, who had drifted past their tiring defense into the d where the boot orientation gods smiled upon me and I was able to make the deflection count. My words told of a second exploitation of weakness. The weakness I described was the ‘no dedicated goalie weakness, the exploitation I described was the ‘goalie attack on the no dedicated goalie weakness explotation’. Basicaly I wrote of Gilla kicking them in the underpants. The long bomb demoraliser. I wrote of our fortune at keeping them from the back of the net for the remainder of the match.

Then I wrote the important stuff. It wasn’t about goals or defense or fancy names for tricky moves or any of the action shit that seems so important. I wrote of the utmost importance of Nanna Love. A Nanna’s love for a Nanna, how we can never lose sight of that, because there were times during that game that I feared we would. I wrote that we must always smile, regardless of the circumstances, and more importantly smile at our brother Nannas, because winning or losing doesn’t count for a six foot stack of dogshit if you ain’t smiling with a man in brown.

Nannas vs The Dirty Waffles

2 : 2

TH(1), CG (1), TW, TK, AW, CB, JH

This was a very tough match. We faced off. Still with the bitter taste in our mouth of the random violence of the last time we met (chassY). We all eyeballed the big guy you tried to kill chassy with a knife last time. This time he turned out to be a good guy. It was another one of them. A geezer – one who looked at  TAO  and thought – here we go. Despite the madness no cards were shown. Despite Tao giving it his best, there was no reprimand. Also the mad told the ref that if he didn’t pull Tao up he’d punch him in the face –  still no card.

So I started to slash car tyres – still no card, Andy was eating Greek food on court – no card, Kondo was doing a nudie run – cardless, Tom was singing the Carlton theme song – unbelievably no card, Jim simulated goodtimes on a picture of chassy on his mobile – no card, Chassy showering on court – no card, but Jim showed something
Basically the dirty waffles owned us. The first half I think we entered our forward half twice. They peppered away so much I had a sneezing fit. They ended up the half with two goals – not bad nannas considering.

The ne4xt half the Nannas did a lot better. Tommy toe touching a killer and a long bomb goalie style firming the pudding.

The hand shake at the end was funny with lots of look aways and lots of grumbling, but what is sport without sweat, grunting and attitude.

The post match was hosted by Tommy “lets go to the Rooftop” Howie. We arrived (after a pussy car park) with the bouncer almost suggesting there was no room. With Tom eyeballing a massive violation we made it. We had a good view and Kondo told of his plans for this thursday – YUM!!

19 March 2009 

5-4 Nanna loss to The Hyderoos. 

CB(1), DC(2), CG, JH, RH(1), TH, AW(m) 

Despite the loss, the game was a great game. A very balanced and equal game, with goal for goal rhythm. In the end we lost by a goal. And sure it was an own goal, but all appreciated that it could have been any of us. It just wasn’t. 

Noticeably absent was any westside presence. There was talk of heavy thumbs. There was talk of dark clouds. There was talk of dark and heavy thumb clouds, and inevitable and impending cool change coming in from the west, and we had all better laugh and snigger whilst The Great Dark Thumb had not (yet) unleashed it’s true power. 

Fortunately I took notes after the game to remember all the little details of the game, the goals, the passes, the saves. All that sweet nanna poetry. 

Unfortunately I totally lost my notes. And having so heavily relied upon them I remember nothing. Apologies. 

The only single moment I recall was my own cross-court fast pass which snaked through 4 pairs of legs, across to an anticipating Cocky, who banged it home for a perfect finish. Gold. And boy have I been reliving that one all week. 

Ahhh. The nannas. More than a team. It’s a lifestyle. 

And after 9 years of eating post-game chips at pubs the nannas have again stepped it up a notch. The expansion of our post-game repertoire. We move from the Maori clubhouse, to The Windsor, into unchartered waters. 

Gilla had booked us into The Horn in Collingwood. 

It looked like it was not only going to be entertaining but also educational. Being a whitey I had always imagined that the ‘horn’ was the bottom tip of Africa. Stupid. Ignorant. white boy. The map on the wall informed me otherwise. The Horn I realised was the most eastern tip which resembles a rhino horn. 

The Horn comprises Ethiopia, Yemen and Somalia. Ethiopia’s population is 85 million. This could be contributed to the average fertility rate of 6.12 kids per every female. Average. 

The Harar beer was I have to say a beer which was really agreeable with me. Crisp and clear. Just the way I like it. And the label was a beautiful picture of a fort building in a sandy desert, all orange. The barman talked them up as “organic” beers, although the labels did not appear to confirm this. The other beer was the Dashen, with an equally tantilising label with beautiful red script font. 

I returned to the bar for another Harer. Took a sip, and thought this really doesn’t taste like beer. It tastes like water. Drank half the bottle. Yep. That’s water. Back to the bar. They gave me another. Cheers. Although that too tasted like water. Umm, this beer tastes like water. Gives me another. By now I was just too embarrassed to not to just accept as beer. 

I did feel like a real hard man saying hey this beer tastes like water. 

Those Horn heads. They’re not focussed on the beer. Their biggest trade export is coffee, accounting for 80% of all exports. 

Their second biggest export item is Qat, accounting for 10% of all exports. Qat is a controlled/illegal plant. It is chewed, and contains an amphetamine-like stimulant which causes “excitement, loss of appetite and euphoria”. Within the Kenyan elite, it is also used to cure hangovers. 40% of Yemen’s precious water supply is used to irrigate the Qat plantations. 40%. 

When they’re not making coffee, they seem to be chewing. And when they’re not chewing, they’re procreating. 

Australia controls the importation of Qat, but with a permit one can import up to 5 kilos per month. That seems like a lot of chewing. The number of Qat permits issued in Australia is 294. (It is illegal in New Zealand). 

But I digress. 

The food was amazing. So flavoursome. It was tricky trying to eat sans cutlery, with only the right hand. Gilla had arranged us a table right in front of the band, The Blow. Much of the fanbase were bald men with ponytails. The nannas felt young again. And much like the Thumb Cloud, the nannas giggled initially, then understood that it’s approach was also inevitable. That will be my look for the Finals. 

I had imagined that the dining line-up would crescendo gradually throughout the season, the alphabet peaking out with the W’s at the Flower Drum. But the Gill really stepped it up to such a new height, that really we almost have to bring it back down to just chips to level it back to reality. 

Parts of the Horn are scary. Apart from the pirates, there are 84 airports in Ethiopia, and only 15 have paved runways. 

Gill and Chas continued onto into the night. The other soft-cocks went home. Wal hit Alia for dyke night to touch the “the ratio” treats. I road-tested my new line: hey ladies, how bout we “make like the Horn” and up the fertility rate. Seemed to bamboozeel them sufficiently to get some walmartin signature. 

7-3 vs Vagabundos Da Praia
DC(4)(mom), TW(mom), CB(2), JH(1)(mom), CG(gk)

2 weeks have passes and………… I can’t remember shit. I do remember 3 out 5 Nannas were voted Men of the Match. Is that to say the 2 left behind weren’t worthy of the honour. I say no. The tight five were equal in brilliance on the night and we blew the Vags away.

time has passed……..

Ok I just took a moment to visit the backyard and have a little you know what and now I cant remember even less than I could before. This has to go down as one of the shittest reports ever……. sorry

7-3 vs Vagabundos Da Praia
DC(4)m, TW, CB(2), JH(1)m, CGgk

Unlike previous weeks where anywhere up to 10 nannas were to be seen striding the hallowed halls of wesley college, it was a tight five that took to the court last thursday. A very tight five, arguably the tightest five. And it seemed to work pretty freakin’ well. A diamond formation, Tao hustling up front, Chas and Le Coq Sportif in the midfield (left and right respectively), Iron legs Jim in defense and the funkiest of all nannas in goals. There really is a lot to be said for the tight five. A whole lot of running for starters, but also a real sense of cohesion and communication. Admitidley our opponents weren’t really up to the challenge but they did have some skills, and some pushy arms, not enough body mass behind the arms however to stop LCS from barging his way into the first goal. from there on it was all slick passing and some freakin’ nice shooting. The first Earl of Martindale slotting in a couple of sweet strikes. A couple of very fine saves from Senor Gill and some nice delivery. Jim doing that great kind of scary threatening jumping stompong defense intimidation thing. The last goal of the game was a rather laughable reboundy scrabbly stumble in that should almost be called an own goal, but it won’t because I got it !… erm , what else. Oh yeah it was my choice of eat/drink location. On some dodgy advice from a work colleague I picked a bar (too late for eat) just off chapel street “tyranny of distance”. It’s probably great if you like hanging out at in Prahran but it wasn’t really the nannas cup of tea. Still chassy and LCS took it to the next level with an extended nightcap at joes on the way home which included several beers, some fine whisky (a nod to don draper) and some grown up conversation, freakin tidy action if I do say so myself.

ps. it’s my second to last day at ACMI for ever ! Global financial crisis, huh ? 
pps. touched a RED One for the first time ever yesterday (not mine unfortunately… but soon…) got to love that 10mm Ultra Prime…mmm….

match report (26 Feb) from the walmartin

5-5 v Boomin Back Atcha
DC m 2, CB 1, TW 1, JH 1, AW1m, TH, CG gk, TK 

My ninja nannas, 

poetry on court inspired 

some haiku for you: 

a battle it was, 

Gilla outstanding in goals, 

tiger reflexes 

Post-game venue change, 

dinner at Fitzroy beer hall, 

nannas in high times, 

Chas, Gill, Wal and Cock, 

Continue onto Black Cat, 

Whole lotta young things, 

Backs to the mountains, 

musical chairs for the sights, 

views to the valleys, 

And such young valleys, 

So tight, so pert and teasing, 

nannas choking beer, 

twins’ flesh pressed up close, 

mouthing we want you right now, 

Chas, hip hip hooray, 

Wal to cap it off, 

to Alia for dyke night, 

she said not the front, 

the game had much sweat, 

thankyou Jim for the cross-pass, 

Wal backdoored once more. 

Nannas Vs Hydeoos

Score: 4-10

GF, CB, TK(GK), TH(1), DC, AW, TW(1, MOM), JH(2)

Was it hot??? F^%* yeah it was hot. Was it a good enough excuse to lose to the dirty Hyderoos?? F^#$ NO!!!! Not to mention we had two more subs than them. Shame Nannas, shame.

It seemed to be a very confused and rattled Nannas that hit the almost liquified court that night. Luckily the children were taken outside so not to witness such a miserable display.

Were the Hyderoos better than normal?? I for one think they might have been. Possibly they have imported some talent?? Maybe we need to take the Hyderoos to the tribunal and check that there has been no breech in the salary cap. An inquiry is what’s required here.

None the less it was a giant effort from the brown men to even take to the court after all the warnings in the news not to do any exercise in such weather. Did this deter us…….. no I say. Nothing but another challenge for the brown men. Going on this and past hot weather performances it may have to be said the Nannas play better in the cold. We are men of the snow not of the desert.

Special mentions should go out to some face saving goals from Jim, Tom and myself and some excellent work in goals from Kondo after being let down by his defence.

Sorry Nannas, I know it’s a bit negative and all but on a lighter note the dip in the bay after the game was a good call. Well organised and Dan was well shafted with having to get the fush and chups. But hey would we have got the extra sauces, including the tartare, had anyone else had gone. Also had it been Gee that had to go, as it was supposed to be, then we wouldn’t have got any potato cakes because he believe them to be impure. Even though he ended up eating most of them. Stop Tao, stop dwelling on the negative. The sand was hot but the water was cool and the the beer was cold and that’s what matters the most.

match report 15 january 2009

5-1 nanna win.

CB, DC(2), GF, CG, JH, RH(1), TH, TK, AW, TW(1)
(apologies but who got the other goal?…JH?)

Fuck fuck fuck. I’m upside down. I’m underwater. I don’t know which way’s up. I’m caught in a oxen stampede and I’m just lying spread eagled just taking it. This is not a good situation. There is an immense amount of pain. There are no words. My balls have been kicked up deep inside me. I’m writhing on the side-line trying to find inner peace. I’ve been taken to a higher level. I’m up on the ceiling looking down on a small man in a lot of pain.

The siren sounds. The game is over. A 5-1 nanna win.

Some guy is saying I’m sorry. And I’m saying no worries. It’s ok. And I’m trying to be zen about it. You freakin idiot. Punk trying to kick a goal from mid field. At least connect with the ball you freakin freak. Instead you have used myself to give myself the human enema. But in hindsight, it may appear to be a short-cut manovourve to take the MOM off others more deserving.

It’s 40 degrees outside. Half of the state is on fire. Trains are melting. This kind of heat always encourages me to go looting. I don’t know why. I’m thinking the world’s ending, and instead of going out looting and rooting, I’m trying to remember who kicked the ball two weeks ago. I hope the world doesn’t end quite yet because Chaz and The Coach have called the semi-impromptu on the annual fish and chips tomorrow night. lip smacking.

As for the game. For me one of the match highlights was a Gilla long throw out of goals which landed on the foot of Jim, then flew across court to Hinkley, who with one touch just slotted it home. Absolute gold. I still can’t believe that any of them actually had their eyes open.

There was the ever tenacious Tao who ran up court, and just pushed on through and into the net. Simalarily Cocky who gathered momentum to pass by all, and ping one true. Two actually. Ghee played some magic with some standout cross court one-two action, but upsetting all those who were expecting the signature. Chaz as graceful as ever and still with the youthfulness to run the full court. Howie ever present. and vocal. Kondo fully doing the splits to keep a clean slate.

And the full team sub at half time. Classic nanna mind tricks.

And the pain. I’m left with greater mental scars than physical.

What was touching for me was not the nannas helping a brother back up to his feet. But the outpouring and genuine offerings of the groin massage. Genuine offers. Initially I relied on gravity alone, but I soon succumbed to the bombardment of enthusiastic text offers. Thankyou brothers. I still respect you.

1-1 Draw to Los Pitufos

GF, CB, CG, TH, JH, AW, TW(1)(MOM)

Well Nanna’s, once again unbeaten so far in the season, but can we keep the momentum up?? One might say we should have one this one and I might be that one. Especially when I was the one that should have got a free kick for a behind only to have it turned around on me and turned into a goal. Am I harbouring any bad feelings towards the ref?? Me?? Never. Even thanked him at the end of the game.

All that aside the Nannas played very well and managed to hold there own. Some very good defence from all with a special mention to the reach around (still waiting to see that famous move once again). Gill once again saved the game from defeat with some superb saves. Jim made a ripper pass that allowed me to just lift my leg ever so slightly to give the ball the deflection it needed to slip past the goalie as he tried to rush me.

So all and all not a bad effort for the first game of the season and the last game of the year. Now it’s time to get serious and take this new season and year by the balls and squeeze so hard that the veins are bursting with brown pride and finishing with a happy ending.

9-1 Victory vs The Annual

DC 3, JH 3, CB 3, TW, AW, TH Gk (MOM)

Let this week’s match report take the form of an analogous tale.

There is but one king that is king of all the vast African plains and savannahs and that king is the Lion. The King Lion fears no-one for he is king and everyone better do whatever the fuck he says or he will kill them. The other animals cannot touch him and the only thing he must keep is eyeballs on in terms of trouble is the upstart young lion bucks who would usurp him. These little prince lion upstart juniors will hang out on the edges sniffing around waiting for the opportunity to attack and try to steal the mighty King Lion’s lion kingdom from him. If the King Lion is not 100% percent ready and committed to fight he will be humiliated and the coach will have to give him a royal dressing down and remind the King Lion to “counteth not thy fucking chickens before thy fucking chickens hatcheth”, but by then it is too late because the young prince lion has a ball gag in the King Lion’s mouth and is riding him like a bitch and screaming ‘you’re my bitch now bitch’. To make matters worse every other lion in the joint now wanted a piece of the King Lion and for week after week he was savaged and demeaned in the most derogatory and cruel of ways, all but the last shreds of his dignity were vilely stripped from this once proud King Lion leaving just a weeping king lion husk weeping bodily fluids.

If the King Lion is lucky he will get a second chance to fight the upstart prince lion and a second chance to redeem his honour and his respect. Fortunately in this story the King Lion gets a second chance. For the King Lion once again entered the Lion Dueling Arena with the young junior upstart prince lion, and this time he knew not to counteth any fucking chickens. While the first half was relatively even, in the second half he just stepped right up and started chewing on that junior prince lion’s face, and he chewed that fucken’ junior prince lion’s face right off right of its fucken’ skull. Not content with a facefull of face he turned his attention to the genitalia of the young prince lion junior. Now, there are two ways for one being to take another being’s genitalia in it’s mouth; one is with a mind to pleasure the other being to the heights of ecstasy, or, quite conversely the second is with mind to savage and bloodily neuter the other being so that it is reduced to eunuch status. The King Lion took to the junior prince upstart lion’s genitalia with no mind to satisfy, please rest assured it was strictly the latter of the ways that the King Lion went after the junior prince lion’s junk- he fucken’ munched down on it hard, it was all teeth and no tongue, and he fucken’ got in there and fucken chewed and chewed, and gnawed away, masticating every last little piece of genitalia into the smallest pieces possible, all the while his powerful King Lion saliva was breaking down the matter at a cellular level so that there was no possible way at all you could just wack it on ice and chopper it off to the microsurgeon for the old addadictomy and somehow save the manhoodliness of the young lion upstart prince.

And when the King Lion was sated all but one of his constituent parts went to the pub and had a beer and some dinner (except for another one of his constituent parts who only had chips), and King Lion reflected on where he had been that Lion Dueling Season, from the king of everything to a piece of shit nothing, and finally -thanks to some ball blood on his lips- back to a modicum of respect . And then the Lion King reminded himself that it was not over yet, all the other Lions who had so royally fucked him needed to get their faces chewed off too, and some of those Lions were tough motherfucking Russian lions who fucken’ sliced babies wide open in Chechnaya for fun, so he would certainly have his work cut out for him, but if he can only stand up and fucken’ tough it out, and fucken’ fight with a fucking psychopath’s desire for the taste of scrotum in his King Lion mouth and win three more matches, then he will be; THE FUCKING KING AGAIN!

Nannas versus Vagabundos Da Praia

6   :   6

DC, CB, RH, JH, CG, TW, TH

MOM: CG & JH

BY the skin of your teeth nannas, by the skin of your teeth.

Vagabundos Da Praia  have been a team that in the past the nannas have owned mentally. This time they bought in the Aryan Nation man…..he had a weapon. I’m not talking about anything insidious – I’m talking about his right foot. (probably his left as well) He was really the difference. Never spotted before, and hopefully never again.

About from him, the nannas would have ruled supreme…..like an Iron chef up against a kid making mud pies.

The goals were shared around, but the Nannas were not the menace that they were in the start of the season.

The game is a bit of a blur, but as we walked off the ref said “good game”. Mamoud is a man of few words, so when he drops a pearl, put it on your necklace…
I believe there was a first as well during the MOM voting. Chris “vodaphone” brown busted a very cheeky move, or was the fault on the part of Dan “musical cock chairs” Crooks? Almost a code vialation, but who do we give it to?

5-7 Loss to Golden 40s

Goals JH 2, CB 1, DC 1, TW 1, AW 0, TH 0(GK)

MOM TH

I don’t remember how it started but I will NEVER forger how it ended. Unbeknownst to the rest of the table Wally Wong had been using the extended time between ordering food and receiving food to get the old ‘Wally Wong Magic Hypno Eyes’ going on a couple of ladies at an adjoining table. I think even he was a bit stunned by how well it worked, because one moment Nannas were happily having a gay old time laughing about something (probably Chassy tearing his pants again… tore it in the crotch again if you were wondering) and the following moment these two ladies did the ‘Mega Panther Pounce’ and landed at our table with some pretty crazy maneuvers. Pretty much straight away the Irisher of the couple was practically mounting Wal’s shoulder, Wal’s head was roughly the colour of borscht, and the rest of the Nannas egged her on, desirous to see if there existed in the old visible colour spectrum a red deeper than the deepest beetroot red that could be made to manifest on Wal’s head. There was and it duly manifested itself as the ladies tried to get Wal outside for a ‘drink’. Let that be a lesson to all Nannas to beware the seductive power of the ‘magic hypno eyes’ and not to blythly use it just because you are bored of waiting for your steak to arrive.

Just as Wal’s head had adopted the hue of that most famous of Russian soup’s as its colour for the evening, so to did the game have strong elements and overtones of the Rusky. I.e. the opposition were them. Just as some general said in one of them 50s movies about Strategic Air Command, “Were gonna be in a shooting war with the Soviets” (draw out the so part and say the viets part quickly if you want to sound like said general) so we found ourselves (although unlikely they were strickly speaking Soviet). They hit us pretty hard pretty early. Probably three goals running in hard off the corners and leaving their Nanna. From there we regrouped and never really let them get away, but the damage had been done and we couldn’t quite peg them back despite keeping the pressure on through goals and ball control.

Vs The Annual, 3-4 Loss
DC (2) TH(1) CB JH CG(GK)

MOM DC TH

It is oft said of the youth that while they possesseth the energy they possesseth not the control. Perhaps you may think back to your own youthful actionings, in the bedroom, where a great deal of excitement and exhilaration and stimulation was not necessarily able to be drawn out, or manipulated to maximum advantage, or the utmost power leveraged when needed most. Or perhaps you have experienced this recently whilst enjoying the company of someone younger than yourself. Whatever your manner of understanding, the maxim remains the same; the young, while willing, lack the experience that counts. Sometimes however it would seem that vitality and vim can overcome the knowledge, skill and know how that the decades provide, and thus it was well and fucking truly proved this Thursday past. For the Nannas arrived with “in the bag” mentality, thinking to toy with the young opposition a while, as a feral cat might toy with a caught rodent, or a well-versed harlot might toy with a trick at the limits of ecstasy. Yet despite going down one-nil early on, the foregone conclusion mentality continued to hold sway amongst the Nanna brethren, as though somehow our age, experience, skill level, ladder position and track record meant we were ordained for victory. Well let me tell you Nannas, history is littered with the fetid corpses of those thought themselves predetermined to win, the tales of old are awash with the blood of the foolhardy who believed destiny had fated them success before the battle had begun. If you learn nothing else from last week’s defeat learn this: counteth not thy fucking chickens before thy fucking chickens hatcheth.

Of course while the mindset describes the demeanour, which defines our loss it does not describe the manner. How were a bunch of pimply children with little more than eagerness to describe their soccer skills able to defy a battle hardened outfit of match fit Nannas? I will away with the verbose language and give you one word. Desire. They came with greater desire, and for that they were rewarded with a great victory. Greater desire for two things: desire to win, and desire for the ball. The desire to win is essentially what I have already discussed. A belief that you can win is a much surer bet than a belief that you should win. I hope every fucking Nanna out their in Nanna fucking land has got that in their heads, because we are about to move onto what I believe is a greater problem: desire for the ball.

You’ve got to want the ball. You’ve got to want the ball real bad. And you’ve got to put that wanting the ball real bad into practice by going after the ball like possessing it is what keeps you breathing. Not only last Thursday, but generally, Nannas are a bit soft at the ball, holding off it, standing behind the opposition and putting their head down when a pass does not miraculously find it’s way through, generally not wanting it bad enough. While I am loathe to single out an individual, I will at this juncture raise the name of the purplest and most angriest of Nannas, Tao. While he may not have the strike of the striker, nor the shadow foot of the shadow foot, nor the back doorness of the back door man, nor the Heisenberg uncertaintly principle of the man know as the Heisenberg uncertainty principle, he has a desire to possess the football the likes of which exists in no other Nanna. While he may have his moments of code violation and giving the ref an earfull, it is his willingness to go to the ball wherever it is, no matter how far away or how hopeless the situation may seem, and make a contest that the Nannas lacked this Thursday past. I want us all to take a little of Tao’s tenacity, Tao’s never say die approach, and fucking well get in there and make every ball contested. No matter you think the contest is over and you are beat, fucking well get back on the ball and make every moment of possession the opposition may have a hard fought fucking annoyance for them. This week I don’t want any excuses, I just want to see Nannas wanting the ball so bad it hurts them deep inside. I really hope I have made myself clear, because this is the area in which we acted like a bunch of nutless monkeys last week, this is why a bunch of fucking teenagers wearing girl’s hair accessories were able to bend us over and disgrace our junk.

14-0 vs Spartans

CG(gk), TW(2), AW, RH(4), DC(3), JH(4)
MOM: rh

“No”
I hear you say – then
“Really?”
And I respond
“oh yes, indeed”.

Fourteen times did the ball cross the Spartan goal line – FOURTEEN. And how many passed the fortress that is Christopher Gill? zero. ZERO. That makes the scoreline for all you number-crunchers, 14-0,  the biggest winning margin ever (unconfirmed).

Powerful, yes, Skillful, you bet, fast, strong and even deft. But most of all the word that comes to mind is UNITED. It was a TEAM that scored 14 goals on this fateful night, sure some Nannas kicked more goals than others but in reality every Nanna was firmly gripping the thigh of that scoring leg and swinging it together.

I’ll start from the back were Gilla took the term “clean sheet” to a new level, not a spot on that sheet, not even a hint of perspiration, no hairs, the bed remained in such a condition that one would claim it hadn’t been used. That’s where they’d be wrong, for Gilla used that bed like no other man before him. Firing balls in all directions with placement and timing that brought a tear to my arse eye. Then saving himself for the very end and unleashing a punishing set piece from close range to register on the score sheet. His use of the long throw was superlative, with I, the captain merely there to polish it through the opening with a gentle kiss.

“But was he alone in defense?” I hear. He certainly was not. The back door Wallmartin was a tower of strength all night. At one point Wal had ventured forward a long way – and found himself somewhere near Thomastown with no train ticket, when he heard a sound. A sound not often heard on a Thursday night it sounds like this “oooooohhhgghggghhoo”, it’s the sound of ball beginning to cross the Nanna goal line. He raised himself to his full height and opened the throttle, sending his legs into a blurred and furious whirlwind, hurtling his barely recognisable form through the suburbs at near light speed. He made it to the goal line at the same time as the ball and swept it away with such grace that the referee wept, openly.

“Well where was the rest of the defence?” you cry. Deep in the trenches is where they were. So deep that the light no longer shone and the only way to make out the oppostition was through touch and smell. There’s only one man that can play in those conditions, and that’s big Jim Hannan. Groping through the darkness with those giant hands out-stretched, those long, strong, fingers probing the depths of the opposition attack. Coming up for air occasionally to sink a long range powerhouse goal before plunging back again to the stench and the heat and the inky black that he loves and knows so well.

“What of the offence?” What indeed, 14 whats infact. Striker by name and Striker by nature, that’s what they say of Cocky Cockshank and last night was no exception – or was it? Well I dare to say it was. For last night the striker turned a new leaf, unrolled a new rug, dropped some fresh trousers and revealed a new part of himself to the Nannas. And what a beautiful part of a man to keep hidden for so long. It was a sharing caring Striker that opened himself to advances, invitations, calls from afar and answered swiftly with kindness and precision. He stepped away from the limelight and let others shine, infact he made others shine, he was the light by which we glowed.

“Can there be more?” Oh yes, for I have not yet spoken of the engine room and the Nannas had an engine named Tao last night. The thing about engines is that they’re complicated, there’s a lot of moving parts and it must simultaneously do multiple things, I’m talking about passing, tackling, shooting, yelling and running. When that engine hits optimal revs it’s seamless, all actions happen simultaneously and the resulting mass of limbs and volume create an aural and tactile feast. And when that engine unloads from halfway with precision there’s only one possible outcome – GOAL.

“What of you then?”. Well I played and am humbled by my Nannas votes but in reality I was there to finish off the good work, a polisher if you will – there to kiss the children good night and put on the kettle for your hot water bottle.

But imagine my shock when I went to the APISC ladder to find that we are not on the top of the Table -THIRD!! if you will. The second placed team have 77 goals from 5 games that’s an avverage of more than 15 goals a game. hard to believe. It’s lucky that the Nannas live for the challenge.

VS ??
TH, DC 2, RH(MOM), AW 1, JH(MOM) 2, CG 1

Gillie had the fish Pie. FISH PIE.
There were two steaks and bangers on the menu. Maybe he’s pregnant.

Anyway – the game was a cracker – a real corker.
Nannas at their fighting best – we led from the start and never let it go.
Powerful, passing Nannas running from the back and following through. Including a superlative solo effort from Cocky who was on fire up front, Wal on hand at the back door to slip one in, Gilla (pre-pie) hitting the roof only once – a record I believe, Thomas Obsidian Howie rock hard behind the tight shorts of powerhouse Jim Hannan and the captain on hand to collect the tissues.

Only downside was the dodgy St Michaels Court which, unbelievably makes the Wesley court look like wembly. The surface so slippery that the reacharound became the follow-through.
Maybe it’s what we’ve all been waiting for.
Nannas on fire.

VS Dirty Waffles
TH(GK-Mom), CB 1 (Mom), DC 2, TW, RH 1, AW, JH

Sometimes a man, a mountain climber say, looks at the mountain ahead of him, and thinks not of the pain and suffering awaiting him amongst the jagged peaks and bottomless crevass’, but rather of the good times, the panoramic vistas and the fresh mountain air reaching deep down to the ends of his alveoli. So it was that i gazed upon the match ahead of me last Thursday past, not thinking of the jarred fingers and buttock bruising that awaited me amongst the impending combat, but rather of the fleeting moments where everything comes together for a moment of brilliance and the smiles and gestures of support from my comrades in battle. I think a lot of this had to do with the pre-game rainbow flurry and the mention of Chas’ trouserless driving, in my mind I was on the phone to Chas when his pants got ripped, the conversation went something like this:

Phone Rings

Chas: Hi this is Chassy
Me: Hi Chassy it’s me.
Chas: Hi how are you?
Me: Very well thanks how are you?
Chas: I’m good too.
Me: What are you doing right now?
Chas: I am driving in the car.
Me: That sounds nice.
Chas: Yes it is… oops hang on whoa!
Me: What happened?
Chas: I just got a rip in my pants.
Me: How could that possibly have happened?
Chas: I tore them on the gear stick.
Me: How?
Chas: It’s complicated
Me: Oh.
Chas: Yes, I think I have to take them off.
Me: Oh
Chas: Yes, I am taking them off right now.
Me: Oh.
Chas; Yes I am sliding the crutch past my ankles right now.
Me: Oh. Do you still have the lambswool car seat covers?
Chas: Yes I do.
Me: So is the lambswool nestled up against the underside of you bare thighs?
Chas: Yes it is quite snuggled up against it.
Me: Oh
Chas: Hang on there’s someone on the other line
Me: Ok

Pause
Chas: It’s Jim, I’m getting a three way going.
Me: Hi James.
James: Hi, I heard Chas had to take his trousers off.
Me: That’s correct.
Chas: True
James: Are your thighs touching the lambswool?
Chas: Yes.
James: Are the backs of your calves rubbing against the piping on the edge of the seat?
Chas: No, the lambswool covers the piping.
James: Oh
Me: Where did they rip again?
Chas: All over

… anyway it wasn’t a conversation that ended quickly. As for the game, it had its highs and lows. The highest being the opening stanza of play where we controlled the ball without letting the opposition touch it once until we had scored the opening goal, the lowest being a slight fuck up by your’s truly and letting the ball in.

Nanna’s v XXXX

4 : 3

TW, DC, CB, RH, TH, AW, JH, CG

MOM: CG

Bitch slapped em!! It was the old Italian guy who’d we all seen around the traps for years –  worried, we were!! He had the foot skills of a thai hooker, the face of a wind ravaged cliff and the snarl of a bengal tiger.

Rhian kept pointing at him and ducking his head, a small child he seemed. Dan Crooks didn’t like the looks of him either and he joined Rhian in the feotal ground position, spooning each other for reasurance.

It looked really dodgey until chris Brown walked in with a really “heterosexual” handlebar mustouche. That lightened the mood up a little.

It was a light game. We came back several times to level and then we pulled ahead, right at the end. We seemed in for a tight last two minutes, when they decided that the 4:3 score line was too heavy to deal with and they actually stopped looking a the ball.  It was quite an anticlimax to the tension that we dealt with for 34 minutes.

Everyone played well. Rhain and Dan asked me not to mention the spooning.

NANNA’S Versus Los Pitufos

4 : 1

DC(2), JH (1), TW (1), AW, CG, TH.

MOM: JH / CG

One of the Browner games for a VERY long time! Infact, one of the Browner Thursdays for a very long time.  We began the game with a VERY tight six but finished the night with a VERY loose six!

The defensive heat the Nannas turned up was frightening, I’m still trying to comb down my chest hair after witnessing it first hand.

It must be noted that the maggoty new ref from last week continued his insanity by making up rules and awarding a penalty against the goalie for a perceived handball….Penalty saved – ref looked stupid.

It really was tightest I have ever seen the back half, they had very few shots.

Another note must be made to Jim’s blobbling, juggling, run down the wing with a deft flick to Dan to complete an attractive thang!

more notes must be made at the Nannas sunny disposition. Everyone was happy smiling and sweet.

And then came the IMPROMPTU. Post game resembled a slick operation….none of this Silly south side folly, they headed straight for the Supper Inn. With a booking under their belt, they pushed past the line on the door and straight to PORK town.

What went down next was greasy, spicey, sexy, beery, peppery, and very fried (expect that flounder!)

Dan became Nanna of Nannas with his selfless gesture…..

The only disappointment must be the pinnie parlour on Bourke Street that had two out of possible six DAYTONAS working…..not cool.

This, is the album cover, and if you’re not in the photo, you’re not in the band, and you’ll have to be roady or coke bitch or something and Jim gets to be leads singer cos he stood in the middle and proved he had the best teeth and Takeshi is the guitarist who thinks too much and gets angry because its not about the music any more, and Rhian is the gay tambourine player and Chas is the not quite as gay bass player and Andy actually is Charlie Watts and I’m the slightly wrong rhythm guitarist who marries a fresh 17 year old every year, sorry but that’s just the way it goes.

Opponents: Vagabundos Da Praia
Score: 2 (Nannas) – 2 (Vaga)
Attendees: AW, CB, JH, RH, TH, TK
Goals: CB, JH
MOM: TK

Flanking maneuvers played an important role in nearly every major battle in history, and they were the very important factors in the game we played in this week. I am going to re-visit the moments to diagnose the flanking tactics of the Nannas.

Team were well shaped and I felt that the members were focused, dedicated and cooperated to win this game. Moreover, I saw the great accuracies of the performances from every Nannas. I think that it was the key of the night.

The first 20 seconds , JH who stayed in the front had the amazing moves to disappear into the blind spot of the enemies at the left corner. When all opponents looked at the right corner to defend themselves, he slowly moved forward and set the best position to snipe the shot.

AW who was just going to kick the ball from the right corner, noticed the flanking immediately. He sent the most accurate speedy pass just in front of JH. They understood what needs to happen instantly and the ball was in the goal after a second.

This happened again to the combination of CB and RH in the middle of the game. CB looked the right corner to send the sign and run into the left very quickly. RH of course saw the move and kicked the ball for him to shoot. The timing of the both two were literally unstoppable. It was great sharp goal.

Those two goals are the proper goals of the Nannas. They were happened by the good understanding of the field positioning and the combination of the accurate maneuvers and cooperation. I am very excited to see that again on the field. Good luck brother Nanna. see you in shortly.

2-1 loss

AW(1), CB, CG, JH, RH, TH, TK, TW.

There is a saying in my trade, the construction industry…”measure twice. cut once”. And I think this could equally apply to the packing-your-soccer kit-in-a-hurry scene.

It was a Very slow day. Sometimes those nanna days are really slow. Like I’m itchy to get to the end of the day, and it’s just dragging along, totally oblivious to my pre-match excitement. And I’m 10 storeys up in my city studio, gazing out into the canyon, the abyss of concrete buildings. Daydreaming. It’s a killer view. And I’m just gazing out there, taking it all in. the concrete buildings. the cars below. the rooftops. the nude girl in the apartments opposite. The carparks. The air-conditioning plants. The Fucking What !

You can’t miss that flesh tone. It just jumps out amidst all the grey. And this is no ordinary nude girl. This is hot Asian girl. Now that is pert. And she’s just wandering around her apartment all day. Making toast. And listening to music. Calling a friend. I look at my phone, half expecting it to ring. But no. Finally she gets a little chilly and puts some red panties on. it’s like I’ve fallen into www.hot_asian_girl_doing_doing_ordinary_things.com. But without having to hand over my pin number.

Needless to say, I didn’t get a lot of work done that day. So much time gazing out the window waiting for her to call me. If only I had spent a fraction of that time double checking my soccer kit for the game ahead. Just a couple of seconds would have taken no effort. Instead, selfishly I gaze. And drool.

I turn up to the game, those pert breasts burnt into my retinas. I can barely see the court. I can’t even see the ball. I’m drunk on flesh. I get dressed. Where are my soccer boots? You are fucking kidding me. I have left them at home. Tommy comes through with a spare pair of shoes. size 45’s. It’s like I’m wearing flippers. I’m drunk and I’m playing soccer with flippers. I feel like I’m playing underwater.

Anyway. Given the circumstances I remember little of the game. I remember Chas lining up a penalty kick. He is standing there between two beautiful breasts. I want to run towards him and kiss him. I restrain myself. Chas side-kicks the ball to me. It’s sweetness. For a moment I think trap and shoot. But no time and I risk the one-touch. It finds the corner of the net. Goal.

The rest of the game is a blur of bumbling. Slurring from the side-line. And defensive play. We went down 2-1.

But I was drunk. I was underwater. I checked my phone after the game to see if she had called. a simple text ” U R my BCKDOOR MAN ”
 
 
 
 
 
 

Edgy, noisy, holdin’ it.

TH(COACH), DC, TK, JH(1), CG, TW(2, MOM), PM(RING IN)

Nanna’s Vs Allens FC 3-3

While it wasn’t quite the welcome back to second division some Nanna’s might have hoped for thought it was still a pretty good effort and a well deserved draw.

Well Nannas it’s been along wait but upper management has finally resolved some bitter in-fighting and the much debated “missing game” has been resolved.

Feast your eyes

Much kudos to Cocky for a second triple crown – they said it could never be done, and he’s done it twice. A much deserved win, very close to big Jim Hannan in second and a sly back door run form the Walmartin in third place, brown work indeed.

More stats here
respect.pdf
goals.pdf
attendance.pdf
commitment.pdf

We all look happy

TH (COACH), DC, RH(1,MOM), TW, TK, CG, JH

It will be remembered as the last.
An era bygone,
Fond thoughts, small aches and faded bruises.
goals that were and could have been
Goals

Goodbye first division
Home of the champion
Home of the real
Home of the Nannas

Hello aspiration
Hello to men who yearn
Hello to real Nannas who fuck people up.
Hello to hard like fucking nails Nanna fucking hard men.
Hello second division pussy’s crying in pools of their own blood and saliva and shit and piss.

CG, AW, TH, DC(2), RH(1), TW(1, MOM), TK(GK, MOM)

Nanna’s Vs Bulls 5-9

After a last minute change of times allowing the Nannas to actually put team together I’d have to say we rose to the occasion and managed to hold ourselves pretty well. Off to a bad start and what could have been a very frustrating game with the ref from hell. A goal disallowed from the before mentioned ref after he called play on and then changed his mind after the refs team got to him. Thankfully he didn’t stay much longer and a new ref took over. And I’d have to say he played a much fairer game.

Either way the Nanna’s played a pretty good game and, though we didn’t win, we did hold our own and stopped them from beating us by as much as we know they can and managed to put away a respectable amount of goals ourselves.

Well done Nannas!!