5-4 Loss to Pornstars
CB 2, JH 2, TK, TH, CG, RH, TW, DC(coach)
MOM 4way: TK,TH,CB,CG

We lost and it was close.

Timestamp. TH recovering from knee surgery and his first general anaesthetic. DC still recovering from lower back (sacral) injury. TW recovering from man flu and preparing to move Northside. TK recovering from Queensland in Queensland. CG recovering from his solitary man-time in NYC. JH recovering from the Malmsbury Flu. AW recovering from another holiday somewhere. RH recovering from ditto. CB recovering from being Sedge at NAB.

The nanas have been playing together for reportedly 10 years. Thats a long time. Thats since the year 2000 ? What happened back then ? Well the concord crashed, The spacecraft NEAR Shoemaker enters orbit around asteroid 433 Eros, the first spacecraft to orbit an asteroid.  And against the advice of the Year 2000 Doomsayer Cocky, I was in Barcelona. I was with a Swedish girl, eating tapas and secretly deeply wishing I had buggered romance and not agreed to getting an apartment way out in Castelldefels, rather than in the centre.

The centre is where its at.

And thats really where i am going with this because I feel we lost the game because we lost the centre.  The passing game was not as fluent as one would hope from 10 years of passing pally wallying ( pall e well e’ing ) . Kondo had us sound at the back, and we had some stout performances, or glimpses of brilliance but we lacked a fluency in the centre, and in our all-round passing game.

Its our ability to dribble a bit if their was space or a lacklustre opponent, or turn the ball and find a man that would do the same, before feeding it up north to a likely lad. We often got caught in the corners, going too deep.

Jim thumped one in.  He must, in my limited experience with the nana game, to be called that likely lad. Tom, who could play anywhere, too looked a likely with that sledge hammer of a foot, Chassy looked a solid force at the back and potential midfield partner to Rhian and Tao.

So thats how i call it. 10 years and perhaps you need to go back to basics. Work on the passing, love the centre and you will have glory.

the BPBD ( Brown Proud but Disallowed )

Playing: JH, TH TW, RH, TK, PC, CB, DC (coach)

Score: 3 Red Peppers to 1 Nannas

Mid season analysis.

After a string of losses the Nannas sit near the bottom of the table. This week we were beaten by an average adversary, who we should’ve done better against. The week before we apparently played worse (although no one really wants to talk about it) but suffice it say our prospects for this season are looking bleak.

So it becomes incumbent on this Nanna to examine closely how the Nannas are travelling and suggest, from my seat on the train, how we might salvage something from the season.

Last night was one of only a handful of games I had played this season. There wasn’t that much difference to a lot of other outings. We were fairly tight at the back (they only tore us open on one occasion), we were mostly in control of our passing (meaning, we still did kick it away a lot). And we did pull some good moves from time to time but suffered that most heinous affliction, which usually happens against Hampton FC, of not being able to score.

The problem, from this correspondent’s point of view, does not come specifically from any one team member.

The Captain continues to impress with his form, following on from a strong showing last season. Indeed, he seems to be having something of rennainance with his running, passing and shooting. While the years have slowed him somewhat (I can see him straining, trying to make his non-compliant body move more swiftly) his touch and confidence have been outstanding.

Chassy, by contrast, has lost nothing of his speed, moving about the court, lithe as a tiger, hungry for the ball and a piece of anyone that gets in his way. Chassy has the skills and a shot to rival any of the Nannas but could take more time over the ball, meaning a touch every now and then, so he can use these his attributes more effectively.

Then there’s Tao. One of our key competitive animals and when on song indispensable to our fortunes. He embodies the true Nanna spirit of fight, fight and then fight some more. Was good last night and is now passing earlier but at times lets his emotions rule him.

Tommy remains Tommy, dependable, unflappable and most times the keeper of the Nanna’s rational side (except when he’s arguing with Gilla at a halftime interval). Could play more on the balls of his feet, ready to snuff out danger or toe poke home when the opportunity arises.

Takesh. Last night Takeshi was magnificent in goals and except for a blemish approaching half time would have been man of the match, hands down, again showing his extraordinary powers in goals. He may not have the flair or the long shot of Gilla but he more than makes up for it in pure balls.

Last but by no means least was the ringer, aka Pete Circuit. Pete, by his own admission, may not be the most skillful player (which probably describes most Nannas) but showed guts, no hesitation to get his hands dirty (the way he bundled opponents made me proud) and a willingness to put the team ahead of his own self, running himself into the ground, at which time he had to come off and have a lie down. But he soon pulled himself up to do it all over again.

So the problem then is not with the personnel we have been putting on the field. And unlike this game, for the most part we have been getting on the scoresheet nicely. But sometimes you do get the feeling, as do some of our opponents, that some of our goals are all arse: the dipping shot from downtown; the patented Nanna sucker punch (the header coming from a Gill throw). Don’t get me wrong, there have been some fine moves and fine goals over the last little while (recent efforts from Hinkley, Chassy and Tao come to mind) but what we are sorely missing is that selfish, single-minded striker, someone who can steady in front of goal and consistently put a couple away. To my mind only Cocky truly brings this to the side. Get better soon striker.

A second problem is structure and awareness. The Nannas have neither. On too many occasions we fail to recognise space staring us in the face, instead wanting to be played the ball in bad position. On a number of times the other night we had all bunched in our own half drawing our direct opponents with us, leaving, as they say in footy, our forward 50 very open. A lobbed ball into that space with someone running onto it would have resulted in a one on one with the goalie but no one really noticed and the opportunity went begging.

For any Nannas going forward, remember Ian Wright, who said, ‘it’s the off the ball running that kills ‘em.’

Maybe it’s time the coach and his assistant get out their whiteboard and get the Nannas working on a couple of simple things that could potentially buy us more time and easy opportunities.

Afterward we went to Africa Town and much to my surprise my choice of venue was voted on. Someone in their infinite wisdom decided to add another layer of beige to what is already, every Thursday, a very brown set of proceedings. Never let it be said that the Nannas don’t live up to their name.

Anyhow, before voting I heard someone comment that their bread was cold (no shit!), then gave me a one.

Vs ??
Lost 2-5
CB 2, RH, AW, TW, TH, AW, TK(gk), DC(coach)
MOM CB,RH
COOK DC 2.3

Wow, so many stats and informations to be recorded before even starting to talk about the game.

We played with the optimal 7 plus the luxury of a coach in attendance. Thank you Cocky.

The great thing about writing the report on the Thursday following the game is that it feels like mental preparation for the next one. The downside is that there are significantly fewer facts to call upon.

What I do remember was some solid competition in the first half. We stayed within a whisker of the opposition for most of the match. In the second half they got a couple of goals in quick succession. The nannas hung their heads for a moment too long and the match slipped from our grasp.

Rhian gave someone a reach around. The writer slotted two goals with the purple slippers (the details of which elude him).

Afterwards Cocky took us to the Bourgeois Beer Café. Which was actually quite good. Although Kondo gave it a 1 for lack of originality.

Greg Louganis won multiple gold and silver medals over three olympic games, he won multiple world titles and was the undisputed king of world diving for nearly a decade. His face adorns stamps and he had his own line of sporting clothing, including winter jackets, for cold days after the pool. These facts about his prowess are undisputed – but – the vast majority of people in the world remember him not for these great acts but for one lapse in concentration when the back of his head collided in spectacular fashion with the end of the 10metre spring board.

The moral of this story is that one simple lapse can ruin an entire career.

On Thursday the Nannas were not at there best, and if this game had been internationally televised it would be for this performance that our past ten years would be remembered.

It cannot happen again. Every game is important.

Greg Louganis now competes in competitive show dog competitions and has written For the Life of Your Dog with Betty Sicora Siino.
Let this be a warning Nannas, Do you know what the worst thing about competing in show dog competitions is?

Post match Cocky took us to the closest venue and won very high points for proximity, in fact scored maximum for this category, which is unfortunately only 0.1 of a mark. The beer was delicious and the noise level ideal for pleasant conversation. Fore-thought was low and originality got a 0. No food.

3-4 loss vs the nuts (with Giller’s bro in them)
CB, DC(1), JH, TH(gk/MOM), TW(2)

First we listen to the gospel according to Pegazus and those deserter Nannas take careful note of these most powerful lyrics.

Yes that’s right Pegazus you truly know:
Brothers stand as one
And never surrender
Until we shed blood
Where the heroes fight and fall
Bravest warriors standing tall
Never surrender
The Crusade.

TRUE. HEROES. OF. NANNA. [Roll of HONOUR!]
Cockdangger’s back was just useless muscle sort of sellotaped to his spine. He still played – and he’s a TRUE HERO OF NANNA
Jimmy Hannanberry’s last day of freedom before he goes to live on the plantation. He still played – and he’s a TRUE HERO OF NANNA
Taoser’s been drunk and high non stop for a week since the family went old country. He still played – and he’s a TRUE HERO OF NANNA
The Chasvestito parked in Reservoir. He still played – and he’s a TRUE HERO OF NANNA
Coach Judge Coach had tickets for some other shit or something. He still played – and he’s a TRUE HERO OF NANNA

Yes these are the annointed men of herodom’s most valiant hall of mirrors. When they look around there they see the best Nannas, on the back of a giant winged horse who is so tough he spells his name with a motherfucken’ Z. They aren’t so scared they go to Queensland. NO they go and kill Saracens on a Crusade on a giant winged horse etc. TRUE WARRIORS STANDING TALL! NEVER SURRENDER! THA CRRRUUUUSAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAADE!!!

Anyway we kind of metaphorically surrendered to the Saracens by kicking a couple of own goals which really jags a broadsword right up in your curry hole. This was pretty indicative of the luck we were having – technically probably the better team on the day, but too many shots at the goalie, into the crossbar, wide of the mark – in short, unable to convert.

TRUE. HEROES. OF. NANNA. then shot, skinned and gutted a fat yak on the fucking battlefield fools and had giant fucking fat yak legs sitting on the cadavers of their defeated enemies with yak fat dribbling down their bearded chins and over their bloodied fists or they eat bespoke pasta at Fat Yak – don’t go getting technical with me you weren’t even there.

Hi umm…. vs the annyal (or whatever name they have now) with I think Kondo in goals and dannmuy and chassy and me (your vert tired coach) + Tao and Rhian and Jim I thingk – i’d guess 2-1 a loss to the brown men and I got the goal.

FIRSTLY i can strongly advice against graiting the end of your fingertips with the cheese grater when you are grating the beets as not only does it make typong annoyingly painful but hard as the baindainds tend to make your tips slide all over the keys annd mash inappropriate keys.

SECONDWISE do not forget tp wroite tjhe old matchy until the last minute when you have worked solidly for two weeks every day and now you are tired as it makes remembering hard and does not help when your fingertips are a hurting from grating misadventure.

THIRD TIMES A CHARM and the reason you are here even still reading this. sing it with me looud and strong brother nannas
OLD KING LION!
OLD KING LION!
OLD KING LION!
OLD KING LION!
OLD KING LION!
YEAH FOOLS THAT’S WHAT U’M TALKIJG  ABOUT – OLD KING LION!
Old matey the Old King Lion, Old King Old Lion, King Old Lion was walking down the road when he saw and absolute knob headed cock bandicoot, which in and of itself is not that an unusual a thing as there’s plenty of them tipe of characters of a thursday night when Old King Lion does most of his huntiing. WHat sturck the Old Lion guy was that this here bandicoot was all dressed up like old Lion King, all balls brassed up kinda like how the King Lion buffs his own balls, all mane a swishing around with the sheen and whishwazz of a disturbingly simmilar sheen and whishwazz to what the Lion Man like s todo his liek, a hint of eyeshadow and a little bit of mascaran lash thinkening not at all unlike how OLD lione likes to make himself look a little bit sensitive and brooding but still mothwer fucking king of the old jungle. “what the fuck” thihnks mr lion, “what the fuck sort of knob headed cock bandicoot steals a respected Old Lion’s likeness and acts like it’s NOT EVEN DOING IT – FCUKS SAKE MAN THAT IS AMATEUR!” Straight away old king lion’s brain goes Chess Grand  Master on its own arse. THinking 10-50-1000-2300000000 moves ahead in the blink of an eye it see’s every permutation, devises a plan and spits it’s mouth’s chewing tobacco at the feet of the pesky ‘coot. THe old dangerfield manouvre, lose marginally, so we’ve right where we want em for the finals.

5-1 win over some old guys RH3(mom) CG(1) CB TH TW(1) JH AW

Nannas match report available here

RH2 (MOM) TH JH CB(1) TW AW CG(1)
4-2 Win

4-3 Victory vs VJFC (Va Jina Football Cunts)

TH (GK-MOM), RH, JH, CB 1, TW 1, AW 1 , James the ring in and Julian (Tao’s French bench assembler), and there was an own goal if you’re counting.

Sugar is sweet, so is honey, mix ’em together and it’s sweeter still. Add some maple syrup, how’s that taste? A bit sweeter. Maybe some golden syrup, mix that in real good, now you’ve made it sweeter. Add some other different sort of sugar, maybe brown sugar or caster sugar or icing sugar, in fact fuck it, put ’em all in and as much as you can get, bags and bags of the shit, you might need a forklift or a dump truck or preferably both, trust me you can’t make it too sweet. Then you’re going to need palm sugar and coconut sugar and any other exotic sugar you can get, blend it in and taste it, it’ll be pretty sweet already, but not sweet enough. Go synthetic, I would recommend sucralose, aspartame, saccharin, glucin, dulcin, neotame, alitame even acesulfame potassium, get as much as you can get and don’t worry about any of that shit causing cancer, that’s not the problem, the problem is it won’t be sweet enough – and it’s not. Add some natural sugar substites, xylitol, pentadin, monellin (you know from serendipity berries), erythritol (good because it’s less likely to produce gastrointestinal distress when consumed in large amounts and we need A LOT of it), glycerol, luo han guo whatever, pour it in, mix it up, dip your pinky in and taste it, gaze meaningfully at about 45 degrees from the horizontal, and go “hmmm, not quite sweet enough”. Get hardcore with the proteins, specifically brazzein and curculin, at over 500x the sweetness of sucrose by weight these little guys are essential for getting it sweet enough…

I could make some elaborate allegorical tale about the nature of the struggle between us and the va jinas, but the internet writes better and has bigger dickheads so let me just say that we are the bitchenest Anonymous hackers and they be knob wallabies extraordinaire HBGary Federal. See here and here.

I hope you enjoyed that little diversion, it was pretty cool the way we ended up owning them like that stupid HBGary va jinas. In real life it was of course Tao being the young lady hacker who social engineered Greg Hoglund and like what the man from Ars Technica said, we didn’t need any super special hacks to get through their defenses, just good exploitation of the holes they did leave. Plus I think we rattled them a bit.

However back to that big pile of sweetness you were making in your mind in the first paragraph. That’s been in the sun for a couple of days, it’s reducing down a bit and through that process getting sweeter. Get some sort of giant cauldron on a flame and reduce reduce reduce, we need to sweeten it some more, it has to be so fucking sweet that every mother fucker in the universe gets diabetes from its very existence alone. Ok get it into a malleable ball about 500mm diameter, take that ball and with your own Nanna mind hands form it into the bludgeoning weapon of your choice, maybe a warhammer or a mace, even a morning star is ok, or a base ball bat or crow bar if you want a more modern vibe. Then put it in your mind kiln or whatever you’ve got in you mind tool forging workshop that can make an ultra sweet mess of mind hand formed weapon as strong as steel. Now I really don’t know how long it will take to harden, it’s your mind tool forging workshop and you’ll have to work that out for yourself. But as soon as it comes out you grab your engraving tool, and somewhere on the end that does the damage you inscribe these words in big letters: SWEET REVENGE. Then you walk up to (in your mind only please)  whichever of those va jina’s sorry excuses for a face pisses you off the most and smack (once again in your mind only please) that bitch down with SWEET REVENGE…

What’s that noise? Don’t you hear it? All the angels in heaven are crying with joy because the awful dreadful horrible curse of The Dirtiest Loss Ever (see here if you don’t know what i’m talking about-AS IF) is lifted. That’s right friends the sun is out and the birds are singing their innocent little arses off with out and out unadulterated glee such is the happiness the world feels when the dirty low act robbery tragedy sushi roll of major pissed offedness, that’s sharpened to a point and stabbed right in your guts and can NEVER be removed, and has to live there all your days long, not being eaten like a normal sushi roll, but fuckingwell eating YOU is removed from your guts by SWEET REVENGE.

RH(2)(MOM) JH(1) TH(1) AW(1) DAVE (Ringer) TK

It was a game of two halves. In fact it’s more reasonable to consider it as two short games than one entity – which would make it a drawn series as we convincingly won the second game by a single goal.

The first game in the series was not one that many Nannas will remember with pride. I’m not sure how many Nannas can remember back to the early days of the Nannas when a young friend of the Nannas – Dave was his name I believe – decided to take on a larger opponent by the name of Goliath in the car park. Dave was brave and agile and quick which is helpful. Goliath was an enormous powerhouse of strength and physical ability, skilled in all martial arts, ever, and carrying an assortment of the latest combat weaponry from the Russian version of the SAS.

At Daves funeral we talked about how he had battled hard and really given it his all but in the end had very little to offer in the way of a ‘knock out blow’. When Goliath opened up with his Armour Piercing shoulder mounted rocket launcher Dave could only really stand and take it on the chin and there’s only so many of those that a man of relatively small stature can take upon the chin.

So it was in the first game for the Nannas. The opposition may not haver been carrying any discarded russian weaponry but they were packing some tools that no Nanna has ever owned. There were Multiple goals, and the ‘M’ in Multiple is capitalised for a reason, that went past the valiant Takeshi Kondo. There were passing moves and bursts of speed more often seen at Albert Park during the Grand Prix than on a regular Thursday.

Only one Nanna stood up in that first game and kept the home fires burning – the Coach with a sizzling goal that lef t them reeling, sort of. So we left the first game with our pants on but only just and carrying some heavy scars.

The break between the two games required the Nannas to dig deep, there were strong stirring words, I think Jim said “Holy Fuck”. But it was a different Nanna outfit that took to the second game.

A decisive, fast moving, quick witted outfit. Ringer Dave opened them up early with some fancy footwork, working hard down the flanks and delivering ball after ball accross the goal face, it was only a matter of time before a Walmartin would find himself knocking on the back door with room to spare and a laser guided right foot.

The defence too tightened up, the Nans started mixing it up, laying it up at the back, sending long balls through, rotating positions. Big Jim hanging off, not plunging in, which is hard for a man with such urges. Thomas marshalling the troops, working the numbers and unafraid to take the hard knocks. Ringer Dave going the extra yard by attacking an opposition foot with his head, gutsy. It wasn’t till the final few minutes that the Captain had a run, from a kickoff, the seas parted and allowed an easy slot to find its way home.

And what to do after two short games rather than one game of two halves?

A scenic stroll through the unseen backwater that is Parkville. Thomas opening up a whole new genre in Nanna cooking by providing an insight into his ‘secret Melbourne’, the nooks and  crannies that make this town of hours such a wonderful place. Alfresco Salt and Vinegar washed down with crisp clean Asahi in the night air and ‘blind mans Aerobi” to finish. A delight.

Game: NANNAS vs V J F.C

Win 4:2

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

This opponent is fresh and fast. They have very good foot skills to bring up the ball to the front.
So the game became intense from the beginning. Both of us had quite few shots and somehow we ended up losing two goals quickly.

The pressure was on. As we were chasing, the 4 magic goals saved our life the night.
Our first break through was TW. When I was surrounded by their defense in deep front with the ball, he was running behind me like a cavalry penetrates anything he wants. I sent the ball back to him as soon as I saw and he scored beautiful one.

Our soul was lifted by this goal. The second one was followed by DC’s back heal kick. This trick kick was shot from out side of the penalty line. It was looked like he was just turning around so that the goalie could not stop even it went through between his legs.

The third goal was the our favorite goalie goal. CG did this again as everyone expected. The score reached 3:2 at the mid second half. This goal changed the mental balance of the game significantly.

The fourth one was launched from far back of the penalty line by JH. The trusted main cannon blasted everything a second before the whistle.

It was a good game and a nice way to finish the end of 2010.

A Happy New Year brother Nannas!

Vs Team Scandinavia- The Low Countries

6-3 Loss TH(1)(MOM), RH(1 0r 2?), JH, TK, AW, CG(GK)

Fucking Scandinavian low country bitches. Two faced cock heads. In the war they were all “we’re neutral”, then “actually we’ve got blond hair too we’re with the Nazi dudes”, then “microwave ovens are cool, let’s go suck on some American cock”. Fucking Finnish Amsterdamian fjord lovers, if Brussells is so cool why isn’t Luxembourg a part of Belgia then? Jesus! Anyway they’d all had tank commander training from the Waffen SS so they were well drilled, they’d been on the echinacea pills since birth so they were fit young specimens, they could run, pass, strike and all that shit, their dicks could table dance the Jenkka at 140 bpm, while pulling one of those overwrought Belgian beers that yuppies love so much, all the fucking while with a smile on their dirty wannabe aryan faces. What hope did a somewhat depleted Nannas have? What chance the aging brown men against such a virulent specimen? What tricks could Old King Lion muster from his bag of old tricks? I’LL FUCKING TELL YOU WHAT TRICKS! HOW ABOUT THE TRICK OF FUCKING HAVING BALLS AND STEPPING UP TO THE OPPRESSOR NO MATTER WHAT THE ODDS. (that trick always fucks the kids) HOW ABOUT THE TRICK OF SEEING THE TINIEST CHINK IN THE OTHERWISE IMPREGNABLE 9 INCH REACTIVE TITANIUM ARMOUR AND FUCKINGWELL HAMMERING ON THAT CHINK UNTIL IT CRACKS WIDE OPEN. Let’s break down the tricks then shall we?: Trick one – Stand up to them – You are a proud Nanna with a fighting heritage that goes back over 10 years, sure you’re facing up against an opponent superior in many ways SO WHAT? Form on paper don’t count for shit, he still must beat you, you take it to his sorry herring eating arse and you make him beat you, every time, and you make it hard for him to beat you, you make him think twice about wanting to beat you. This we did. Trick two – Drive a wedge into his crack – His crack in this instance being his lack of goalie, the wedge in this case being our constant pounding of his crack, lots of aerial balls in, lots of shots on goal, lots of being there for the parry and fumble. This we did, Rhian scored from the head from a big throw in from Giller, and I managed to crumb one. Plus Giller kept kicking the ball into their heads but they just kept smiling. All that said they were pretty good, we certainly gave them a bit of a scare when we drew level, and the score only really blew out in the last couple of minutes when we pushed forward trying to arse the game back.

For afters Giller slipped his tougne into big Jim’s ear and said “LP – tropical far North Fitzroy”, new and super groovy we drank Quilmes and had a little impromptu.

vs Hampton FC

lost 1-0

CB MOM, TH, TW, DC, RH, TK, JH, AW

The Phase wannabes aka The Nanna Wannabes aka The Annual aka Hampton FC. We don’t enjoy losing to these guys. One of them wears a headband. They keep changing their name. They’re pushy. They’re hungry. They’re tenacious. They play our game. They keep beating us. Fuck it!

Once again I find myself adding to the tome of honourable losses. It was very nearly a 0-0 draw. Which may have been unprecedented and will now remain so due to the fact that these nemesicians sneaked in a goal right near the end of the match with only minutes to go. And in doing so, snatched the near-dissolved gastrolyte tablet of a draw right off our collective tongue and swapped it for the bitter pill of defeat. We all know about this kind of pill. The pharmaceutical of the vanquished. More bitter than a neat glass of Campari warmed under the hot loin cloth of an obese medieval statistician. More cloying than a mouthful of green chalk.

Kondo was valiant and staunch in goals. Repelling wave after wave of attack. As for the single goal that got past him, I cannot comment for I didn’t see it. Cocky sacrificed himself in the form of a large, mobile haematoma. The writer had a couple of good shots. Tao provided V Shots that got some of us pretty pumped. We drank and ate at the Belgian. And.. Curtain.

CG DC-2 AW CG JH-1 RH-1 TH(post match)

In july 1973 captain Curtis Browning of Bravo company was wounded by shrapnel 2 miles north of Pnang Ta on the Kotan peninsular. He was unconscious when dragged into an army evac helicopter and only regained consciousness in the relative safety of the hospital aboard a medical naval frigate 4 days later. His first thought was of his men and although he couldn’t walk he demanded to be returned to the jungle. In the end he was restrained in his bed for a full month. During this time he was tortured with dreams of his men caught in crossfire, aimlessly wandering in the dense and unforgiving jungle.

Finally he was released and spent four days fighting his way to the front line and his men. His first emotion upon reunion was that of relief and then quickly a sense of awe overcame him. In his absence bravo company had recaptured Hill 462 and gained ascendancy in the battle for control of the Kotan peninsular. He wept solidly for two days, the emotions were enormous, his men had reorganized themselves and fought with such skill and teamwork that he felt he was superfluous. His chickens had outgrown the nest and were now flying alone.

After two days of tears he realized that in actual fact his role in bravo company was more important than ever. His chickens could fly but now it was time to turn them into eagles so that they could soar in the clear blue skies. He took to the skies and his men followed, they flew above the trees, above the clouds and high into the nothingness above.

Its time to fly brown men and soar like eagle, don your wings and flap with me.

no stats available apart from DC(4,mom)

well yes, it is with some degree of shame and embarrassment that I write this report almost three weeks late. The small matter of an extended south pacific sojourn coupled with patchy internet access and a liberal view of the posting rules is wholly to blame (the disrespecting of the flurry is another matter entirely, the blame for that lays solely at the feet of the authors flaky webmail server, well most of it, that and the super dodgy telcos operating in the relative third world nations of Aotearoa New Zealand and the Republic of Fiji Islands (and the Piña Coladas)).

Anyway, enough fleshing out of match reports with extended excuses. The game itself was pretty good as I recall. We won the first half big time and only lost the second half by a bit, leading to a net result of the Nannas™ up something like 7-4 (maybe 7-5) at the final whistle. The only thing that really stands out from the match in my post plural Piña Colada memory is the early contender for GOS (goal of the season). Giller, reading a run from the author, throws the perfect long ball towards the right corner. Arcing over the authors left shoulder the ball drops invitingly for the half volley. With acres of space the sensible thing would have been to try and control the ball and get closer but fvck it, why not have a whack. By pure fluke the strike is as sweet as the proverbial nut leaving the goalie rooted to the ground as the back of the net billows… Tight is Right®

from the depths it came.

vs ??
lost 2-4
CB MOM,DC,RH,TH,TW,JH,AW,TK

Oh man, after a Man Weekend I am meant to remember shit. I close my eyes I see the ears, nose and clean white teeth of the piglet we consumed. What I can do? Come on there must be something there. Some hazy image or a snatch of conversation? Or perhaps a hazy snatch and an image of a conversation? Nup, nothing. It was cold.. real cold.. No, I’m just making it up now.

What about the Man weekend eh? Perhaps that is more important to catalogue. Let’s see.. Goalshooting (won by TH), Relay (TK,TH,CB), Discus (CG-controversially or DC- non-controversially), Intra Big Ball (Gold Team:CB,TW,JH,TK), Intra Small Ball (Gold Team), Dodgeball (Unknown), Can Hold (TK), Robot Hand Shandy (Boomers:CG,AW,TH), House of Cards (AW), Personal Sharing On Mic,PSOM, (tie:AW,DC), Table Tennis (CB), Best Barista Bitch in Balnarring, BBBB, (JH).

Please add to Man Weekend catalogue as desired..

erm… I have not had much sleep this week and the most extreme cortisol levels that is a miracle i even remember playing. As such i can’t remember the team or the score. I do remember that i played a whole lot better than the week before when i played like shit, well apart from the copious assists Jim so generously mentioned in the previous report. To return the favour i would note that Jim was hitting some of the sweetest sounding shots in a long time. You know, when you can just hear how sweetly the ball has been struck, something to do with physics and the massive real-time acoustic modelling being done in the brain, unfortunately someone seemed to get in the way every time and those sweetly struck balls would simply not go in. Finally Tao laid off a sitter for Jim to tap in… Erm what else … Shit, I really can’t remember much. the art Fair opened last night and my nervous system only narrowly escaped a full collapse leading up to it. I seem to recall Kondo and Andy Wong were on fire… the cross court passing was all over that shit… The Coach punched one in from the left with a ferocity that belied his signature languid style… … … yes… I better get ready now. Last game before the man weekend.

time stamps: esme turns one, art fair 2010 opens, gillard slumping in the polls, rudd speaks, rhian updates the mom voter, tao refuses to eat oysters, hollywood evaporates…

MAN WEEKEND HERE WE COME !!!!!!!

vs South Melbourne AMC 13-0 WIN
CB MOM 3,RH 3,TW 3,JH 2,DC 1,TK 1,AW,CG

There they were. Us. No uniforms. Full of hope and wonder. Bearded, bedraggled and unkempt. Men in their late 20’s. Thinking.. “sure, I’ve got some footskills, i used to play soccer at school, i may not have a south american/ european gene in my genome but I know soccer, i know football, i can do this, yeah yeah, awesome let’s ride”.

And then there was us. (perhaps “them” in another decade). Older, wiser, fitter, happier. Men in their late 30’s. Thinking.. “no, you can not do it bearded young fools, you shall not ride, you shall be bludgeoned hard and long by the long handle of the nanna bludgeoning machine. 1, yeah that’s right, 2, take it, 3, there you go, 4, taste it, 5, eat it, 6, slam it, 7, feel the power, 8, ooh touch it, 9, get up bitch, 10, get up again, 11, look at me.. bang, 12, one more, one more here we go, 13 thanks guys great game see you next time.”

And that was indeed that. Thirteen to zero. Three hattricks and some. But strangely, a slightly empty feeling. Like it wasn’t really a game at all. More like a training session. So we better keep our game up and on this week. Especially with the BackDoor and the CoqLoft home on their respective workbenches.

Timestamp: Nanna man weekend confirmed for Aug 6/7 at Balnarring complete with pig on spit. Only three weeks away!

4-4, v ?
AW, CG(g), TH, TW(1), DC(3,m), CB, JH, RH

I think Tao summed it up perfectly, they deserved to win, but we definitely deserved to draw !

The game started off with a radical reformation of the 9 man sub system by the Coach that was very nearly scuppered by the late Arrival of Andy and Issy. Tao scored the first with a nicely angled shot, I’m a bit hazy on where their goals came in the chronology but lets cut to the 3-1 score that wasn’t in out favour, but we fought and somehow clawed it back to 3-3. With about 4 mins to go they got a soft one which after all the hard graft to equalise was a real knife in the guts. Then with seconds to spare we won a corner. tao stepped up to take it, Tom was yelling at the author to “get in there, cocky”, but he was timing his run, Tao looked set, the author took off thinking it’s never going to happen, but the opposition came off their lines and a corridor just opened up, Tao slotted it perfectly across goal where it was met by a Nanna boot… Equaliser ! so good.

Then Wal took us to Gigi Baba via the Grace Darling (where they were playing the Stone Roses) for one of the finest after match meals the Nannas have had to date. so good.

Nannas v Los Pitifos

R: 3 all

Att: CB, CG, JH, TH, RH, TK, AW

To do justice to a truly sporting and wholesome evening, the following match report will be separated into two parts.

Part one

Preamble — the following could concentrate on a sloppy game: defence at sixes and sevens; poor passing; no movement; and somewhat stilted attack. But such a report would do a severe injustice to the many events that made up this game. It is events that define a match and there were many events on this eve that were truly special.

There was conjecture before the game that the Nannas would take to the field with only five. As time ticked away toward kick off it seemed there would be only four, as Andy was nowhere to be found. The ref blew for the game to begin, suggesting that he could play for the Browns but just as he did Captain and Chas appeared. Cheers went up, morale soared, and then Andy entered the stadium — yet more cheers and happy brown men.

Chas will be remembered this game, in the early moments at least, for his supreme goal, the first for the Browns. He took down the ball down deep in his own half, dispossessing an opponent, then got round another two on his way to the keeper, who could do nothing to stop his penetrating strike. The Nannas were on their way.

Chas will also be remembered for his guile and deft touch, as he directed away, with hand, a ball destined for an opponent barely a couple feet from Gilla’s goal. The opposition raised their hands and their voices (Chassy surely would have been sent off and given away a spot kick) but the ref was unsighted. Chassy walked away. Nothing doing. His performance was such that even the opposition, who only moments before were baying for his blood, started to doubt what they had seen.

Gill had a moment too. The ref was counting down toward half time: three, two, one. He inhaled ready to blow on the whistle. If there had been a hooter, it would have blown and that would have been that. But the whistle took somewhat longer to get to the ref’s lips and in this time Gilla saw an opportunity and took it, banging out a long range shot. The opposition were already in the sheds by the time the ball hit the net but it didn’t stop the ref pointing to the spot: goal, much to the disbelief of everyone in the stadium. Gilla celebrated like the true striker he is.

Of course, the opposition should be mentioned in this report. They are a miserable bunch of sods, and deserve every bit of bad luck that comes their way, not to mention a good whacking. Their bad sports-person-ship was on display for all to see after this last goal. One went so far as to infer that the ref should be fearful for his mum’s wellbeing.

Now I shall blow my own trumpet. The Nannas were behind a goal. There was only a minute or two left. We had had our chances but we could not get the ball to disturb the back of the net. I found myself playing striker, taking every opportunity to fervently shoulder and back into their keeper and the bad sport (who had threatened the ref), looking for a long ball for Gilla. And then such a ball came. I was pushing into the keeper, trying to take him out of the contest, and when the time came, all I had to do was come out from his goal a couple of steps and head home. I hardly have to point out that there was much sweet joy at seeing the ball hit the back of the net. Sometimes it’s good to get personal.

That was the end of the scoring. It finished all square at three a piece.

Part two

At the Korean restaurant on the menu above pictures of fried chicken it says:
What we’re famous for.

What they are famous for is sticky, sweating oil, smelly fart inducing, tummy rumbling, yet strangely alluring and satisfying, tasty, tongue tickling, and extraordinarily bountiful platters of deep-fried chicken.

We dabbled in the Garlic and Marinated varieties. Suffer the Nannas who missed out on this post match sit down.

2-3 v Esperanza
DC(2,m), CB (m), TH, RH, JH, AW, TK

Was a while back now and my memory isn’t helping much. it was the B semifinal so not much to play for except pride, but the Nannas™ have more than enough pride being King Lion and all, and obviously the King must have eaten earlier as there wasn’t much hunger see MR 091210 for more on that theme.

Erm… here’s how Jim summised the game, taken from an email;
“We came in a gallant second last night. 3-2. Cocky got two superb goals and Chas was supreme in d, being justly deserved MOM winners.We were plucky, we were brave, but they got us the end. Dolph was big.”

The Captain cooked and we went to Thy Thy 1 for dinner which was very good.

suspected suicide bomber sighted on the grounds of Wesley College.

2-1 v ?
DC(1,mom), CG(1,gk), RH(c), CB, TH, AW, TW, JH,

erm… well yes. I guess a lot can be said for second best votes when there’s a few nannas voting. Thank you my brown brothers.
Overall the game was pretty average really. personally I felt we should have beaten these guys by about 6 goals but I was mocked for this view so perhaps not. Chassie was back which added pace and commitment to the nannas game, as well as a quadruple Code Violation™, the first for a red card after assaulting* the opposition goalie. Speaking of goalies, Giller scored another and now has the strikers trophy firmly in sight, but as such has increased his shots-on-goal:passes-out ratio by several orders of magnitude, ironically (or not) this didn’t have much effect on the game because a) half the shots weren’t on target and b) the forwards were so crap they didn’t do anything with the passes they did get. The only other goal came from the authors back, style, not ! The coaching was very fine from the Captain, who shall hopefully be returning to active duty this week. Wal’s positional play as always was spot on, Jim had a couple of fine cracks, Thomas was everywhere and Tao laid off a couple of tasteful and uncommonly early passes.

but more importantly, chassis took us to a pub that was closed, left the car door open and then spilled 2 beers and a soft drink in gillers lap.

but even more importantly,

20 July 2000

the very first day of brown pride has been finally and unequivocally established. Through the use of email searching, whale sperm and oxide of manganese the official date of the Nannas first ever game has been once and for all set in stone.

jesus, I almost forgot about vajazzling…c/o the beChassler

jim“I am dying to look at this but can I do it at work?”
tao “Sure you can. I did. I’m just cleaning up my desk now. You don’t want to work there any way Jim.”
andy “Make a small fire in the bin. Fire alarm sets off. Everyone evacuates. Jim goes on-line.”
tom “but for the Nannas night out I think we need scrotinseling”
chas “the bling minge, first cousin to the blanc mange!”

and as a date stamp I give you this, also from chassis… turn up speakers before pressing play. Also note chassies shirt in the team photo below.

Game: NANNAS v’s ozspurs

Result 1 : 4

TEAM: JH , CG, AW , RH(MOM),CB , TW 1 (MOM), TH

Once again the Nannas can hold their heads up. Sure it’s not a victory hold, it’s not one of those weeks when you hold your head with both hands and really work up some serious friction. But it is a hold to be proud of, a single handed hold, maybe with the thumb free, maybe not. A hold that’s firm and purposeful and an action that has rhythm and spirit, a good honest hold.

That’s how I’ve found myself on several occasions this week, in a good honest hold, nothing flamboyent, no need for external stimulus but nothing fancy either. And that’s the problem. Next week I want to hold my head with a vigour that can only be found from a Nanna victory. It’s all very well saying that we played proudly, played well and were unlucky but losers don’t win trophy’s and that’s why we’re there.

It’s not that we need to do anything new. just do the things that we’re doing better. Chase harder, mark tighter and pass early – I can’t say it often enough – Pass early, pass early pass early pass early pass early.

Thomas took us to the Belgian Beer Cafe to perve on 16 year olds and their girlfriends.

GAME Nannas versus D W S Fc
RESULT n 1 : D W S Fc 6? maybe
PLAYERS CG, JH 1, TK, AW, RH (mom)

Once again it was a very tight first half, and the Nannas played well. Defence was fine, offence was coming together. Big Jim made his presence felt in the box, and we all know the smile that that produces.

Technically we began to put things together, second week runnning for the tight five and we were finding out groove, slowly, things were happening.

Then a little thing that I like to call “the second half” reared its ugly head and for the second week running the tight five slowed down just a touch. Infact it became a performance piece as the Nans attempted to outdo each other in lack of movement. It’s a very clever mind game, the only problem was that the opposition wasn’t clever enough to see it. If we had been playing a group of really clued up guys we would have screwed with their heads real bad. Unfortunately the dullards in the opposition just saw it as unfit sweaty men gasping for air and ran around us in a completely uncivilised manner.

It’s all about fitness for the next few weeks, I’ve downloaded the complete first season of Jane Fonda Work Out, oohh she’s hot, she’s real hot, and she sweats, she sweats like a man sweats, great rivers of sweat pooling in those artificial fibres. Take a swim gentlemen, dive in and swim with me, swim to the future.

Game: Nannas versus Esperanza
Result Nannas 4, Esperanza 2
Players CG, DC, CB, RH, AW, JH, TH (coach)

Preamble
Only a week following a loss in the grand final, and the again the Nannas lined up against Esperanza. Cocky in his match report put our loss down to not being hungry enough, living life a bit too large but this analysis is somewhat flawed. Yes we did play shit, and yes we did not deserve to win but it was not due to a lack of hunger.
It was more due to an over hunger, which made us play like an over eager teenager about to lose his virginity. The Nannas fumbled, the Nannas rushed unnessarily, the Nannas thought that every thrust had to be an incisive penetration.

I remember a lot of shouting, a lot of very shit, stunted play, although Cocky did slot home a very nice goal.

Compared to last’s nights game, the contrast could not have been greater.
Mention should be made of their eight-foot colossus, Dolph, who was replaced by his younger brother Irwin, who also deputised for most of the game in goal.

Last night’s game

There was passing of all variety, back passing, intelligent passing, passing that was quick and direct. But importantly this was coupled with a lot of movement off the ball. It was once said that Ian Wright was the best striker that England produced because he could create space not only for himself but for teammates through his running and movement. Words to think about.

In post match comments, again debate raged about the best approach for a final. On last night’s evidence six is the magic number. But let’s examine this formation and its merits. Coach was on the sidelines (which may or may not be the best place for him), and dapper as all get out, in his Arsene-style blue suit, coupled with New Balance sneakers, he talked a lot of sense to the Nannas, and this influence should not be underestimated. Gilla held the goals. Cocky spearheaded of our attack. Captain and I held the back. Chas patrolled the centre. And Wal watched for any cracks that opened backdoor.
It should be said here that while certain elements were missing from our game with different Nannas absent, the tight six is infinitely better than the bloated eight. First off a player only stays away from the action for two minutes, which is enough time to get a breather or recollect himself, as the case may be, and after a good speaking to by coach he can then throw himself into battle not having lost momentum but also in a directed manner. The tight six also has merit for building a combination throughout the game. What’s more defence is much easier to marshal, although you still have to yell at Cokcy and Chas to get on their man (but a good invective at the two aforementioned is almost as good as one at Tao).

There were only two lapses in defence for the Nannas that resulted in goals against us. The first one was mine, which I was duly and rightly criticised for. Even though I was marking my man, he got the drop on me after the ball took a deflection from the corner, but I was flat footed, which is always a fatal mistake so close to goals.
The second goal came with some confusion about who was picking up whom as the opposition ran with us. I shouted at Chas and Cocky, and Gill shouted at me, by which time they had three on one (me) and then it all went to shit.

But happily I got a hat trick, which more than made up for any defensive failings on my part

All in all a strong performance by the Nannas.

1-2 v Esperanza
CB, DC(1,mom), CG(gk) JH, RH, TH, AW, TW, TK(coach)

It wasn’t my first thought but I did consider doing a hack job of sticking some nannas faces onto the morbidly obese (but happy) young ladies above. I decided not to for a couple of reasons. a) there were only four ladies and it would be mean to single out individual nannas, I suppose I could have made two headed nanna lady monsters… b) I didn’t really have time.

anyway, the reason I have included the figure above is to illustrate what I felt was the main failing of the nannas on this glorious night. The first Grand Final the nannas have seen in a long time saw a team that was simply not hungry enough. I was going to put another image here of a terrifyingly scrawny girl to illustrate the hunger of the opposition but it was too disturbing. Anyway, suffice it to say that they wanted it more. The nannas had some moves, some passing, a few saves, a few shots, but they didn’t have the fire, the drive, the were living just a little too large.

and if you don’t watch it this is what happens when you live too large…

Forfeit
TH, RH, CB, DC, JH, AW, TW, TK

The 10:40 forfeit – what is that? no notification? That is rude is what that is.

What is ruder is that we then played the guys that are bored with playng for the Brazilian national side due to an overwhelming amount of talent.

It was ugly in the first half when they played with all 5 of their team, the second half could be seen as uglier still due to their reluctance to field the full quoter. I don’t think the Nannas have ever lost a half to a four man side but it has to happen to everyone at some stage and it feels like we were due.

There was a distinct lack of accountability in the Nannas defense and that is  not what you want going into a finals campaign against the angriest group of young men ever to kick a ball.
It sets up a very interesting Nannas-intra-match to build us up for the finals. There are positions on the line and each nanna must perform to his/her own best to guarantee a spot in the finals’ seven (note use of apostraphe).

3-4 v (insert opposition team name here)
CB, DC(3,M), CG(gk) JH, RH, TH(ch), TK, TW, AW

we may have lost in the dying seconds but it was a fine game played by the nannas this eve. Andy and Takeshi were vying for my mom votes early on with some fine positioning and delicate footwork, Wal taking full kudos for going a couple of 50/50 balls with Dolf Lundgren. Chassy and Tao put in some meticulous passing, but for me, the captain’s fancy pants foot skills on a couple of occasions were the icing on the cake. Sometimes those cute moves really don’t come off (especially in front of our goal) but tonight the chi was flowing and the magic was happening, the cute was gold. As to the goals, they scored a couple of softies, and one other which I can’t remember. 3-1 down the nannas clawed it back only to have a draw snatched from their grasp, ironically, by a patented nanna set piece, the glancing header from the long ball. bugger.

from there it was straight to the Jam Factory for some of the special good times only delivered by Brassy Mr Springy™. And from there it was straight into the depths of Roland Emerich disaster blockbuster 2012. Having long been an avid disseminator of the 2012 prophecy I was pretty into the perfectly choreographed cataclysmic CGI mayhem… and given how high i was at the start I was even finding some of dialogue ‘interesting’. Then, as is the way with all such movies, the CGI balloon burst and we fell crashing back to shit fest island… ah well, chassy has promised some inaccessible french art house full of self destructive high breasted brunettes the next time he cooks… yay!

Vs Gassius Clay 6-4 win
DC 3 CB 2 TW 1

There were 8 brown nannas lining up to play
8 brown nannas lining up to play
But if one brown nanna should accidentally be late
Then that one brown nanna (tao) would have to bloody pay
(to the tune of 10 green bottles)

The harshness of the new Nanna rule.. although unenforced on this occasion due to some Pinball analogy the coach was busting out about not going out on the first ball. However I for one would like to express resistance to such a rule. Not so much the rule but the punishment for breaking it. I think a non-pecuniary penalty would be more in the Nanna spirit of brotherhood and brown pride. I am certainly not suggesting that tardiness should be smiled upon. Perhaps a game-time penalty would be more fitting.

So, the game. There was some extreme and unrelenting anger from one of their number. A very angry man.. A firecracker if you will and appropriately enough; going off on Guy Fawkes day. An unacknowledged fact by the nannas on this evening. I think it was good for us to see the ugly side of anger and it was generous of this fellow to give a textbook demonstration of how not to behave.

We won. And the indian was awesome. Kudos Jim.

5-4 loss to baby faced assasins

RH(MOM)1  CB2 TW1 JH AW CG

If there’s such a thing as a good loss then this was a real ripper.

At one point in this game we were down 5-1 or maybe 5-2 and it was a real steep mountain in front of us. The Nanna Mattahorn.

Everyone knows that a mountaineer needs a rope and thats where the long legs of Jim Hannan come in to play, as a unit we grappled on those long twisted shanks of hemp and they held firm. Rope is useless without a carabina and nobody locks around jims limbs like chassey does, he was the stainless steel climbers friend that we all depended on. Andy Wong took the role of the chocolate bar, the back pocket man, one nibble and energy is restored. The axe at the core of all climbs bore the trademark ‘Weis’ and the gloves encircling that axes shaft had Chris Gill written all over them. So the tools wereall there and the climb was progressing at a great rate.

I took the humble role of the climbers penis for a true mountaineer climbs from his pants and so it is I that must take the brunt of the loss for if the pants of a climber cannot rise to the heights of greatness then the mountain shall win, and win it did.