DozzyIs A Team Of Nobodies Really A Team V (Sandilands revenge)
August 4th 2009 03:27
Rucks
James Manson
I once saw James Manson kick a superb spiral goal from 50 metres out on the boundary at Whitten Oval during his final days at Fitzroy. The sheer physics of that kick defied belief. Manson went about kicking a football the way a turtle would go about playing scrabble, in other words he had no fucking idea. So the fact that he struck it so sweetly and it curled through the big sticks to give those long-suffering Lions supporters something to cheer about can be considered nothing short of a modern-day miracle. That kick truly opened my eyes. Since then I wholeheartedly believe in the incomprehensible, I can grasp things beyond my level of understanding.
Thanks to that goal I can totally see what Megan Gale sees in Andy - the guffawing backslapper who happens to be standing next to a bloke called Hamish when Hamish is being funny. It’s helping me to appreciate how Pink sold out 17 shows at Rod Laver when I’ve never actually met a Pink fan. And now, thanks to Manson’s ripping torp, I can see why Dave Hughes needs to be on EVERYTHING. Because if James Manson can kick of a goal of such sublime magnificence then anything is possible.
Manson couldn’t kick, hell he couldn’t do a star jump, but somehow he played in a Collingwood premiership and then for Fitzroy. It’s amazing how life imitates art, because Manson playing professional football is as ridiculous as casting the hopelessly uncoordinated John Howard (the actor) in the starring role in ‘The Club’. Or Kevin Bacon as the retired NBA player in ‘The Air Up There’. I don’t think even Kevin believed he could pull that one off. Watching Kevin, pathetically hunched over, trying in vain to dribble the ball in the low post must have really destroyed the morale of the cast and crew who had travelled all the way to Africa in the hope of making the next ‘Raging Bull’.
At least Kevin recognised a stinker, so after it went straight to video he went back to doing what he does best, playing evil kiddy fiddlers, and once again all was right in the world.
But Manson’s Whitten Oval miracle also means that Dane Swan winning the Brownlow is a very real possibility. What happened to the days when blokes with serious ink were there to be feared? Ready to break your nose with a club lock at any moment in a fit of road rage. Now tattoo sleeves have gone the way of peroxide and eyebrow piercings. Its going to be a real shame when we look back on the Brownlow winners of the decade like we did on the ‘Electifying Eighties’ and instead of Plugger with a dodgy mullet and a thousand yard stare that could start a war, we have a goose that can’t kick over a jam tin who’s scarred himself (on a large scale) for life. And paid for the privilege.
It’s disappointing that for all of Dermie’s preening and prancing in his hey day, large scale tattooing hadn’t yet become a trend. Otherwise I’m sure he he’d have the lyrics to ‘Armagheddon It’ by Def Lepard branded all the way down his forearm in 15 point Helvetica. That would be awesome.
(gimme all of you lovin)
Every little bit
(gimme all that you got)
Every bit of it
(every bit of your lovin)
Oh, cmon live a bit
(never wanna stop)
Yeah, but are you gettin it?
(armageddon it!)
Ooh, really gettin it?
(yes, armaggedon it!)
It seems the rest of the world has finally realised that Kyle Sandilands is in fact the spawn of the devil. It’s been an open secret in perceptive circles for a while now, much like Molly Meldrum’s sexuality or the fact that Delta Goodrem isn’t actually that hot.
It’s just a shame that he was able to anchor a national radio show and a high-rating TV program before anybody actually bothered to notice he had a forked tail. But I guess that’s what Beelzebub does best. Whenever I saw Kyle on the telly I was always reminded of Al Pacino’s Lucifer in ‘Devil’s Advocate’. Although Kyle's a lot less likeable. And not as handsome. And much thicker. Actually now I think about it replace Al Pacino with the hillbilly rapist from ‘Deliverence’. Yeah, that’s about right.
My only worries now concern the future of ‘Australian Idol’. How can they possibly replace someone as revolting as Sandilands? Especially when the only other possible candidate is Mark Holden and he’s already had a crack at it.
My solution is to look abroad. They should raid Manchester City for the one and only Craig Bellamy. This is a bloke who a former coach at Newcastle described as ‘the single most divisive player I’ve ever seen in the locker room’. When at Liverpool he attacked teetotaller Riise with a golf club as he slept because he wouldn’t join Bellamy in a Karaoke version of ‘My Heart Will Go On’ earlier in the night. No shit.
I don’t think we need to hear anymore, congratulations Craig you’ve got the job. We’re just going to need you to sign over your soul here buddy…
James Manson
I once saw James Manson kick a superb spiral goal from 50 metres out on the boundary at Whitten Oval during his final days at Fitzroy. The sheer physics of that kick defied belief. Manson went about kicking a football the way a turtle would go about playing scrabble, in other words he had no fucking idea. So the fact that he struck it so sweetly and it curled through the big sticks to give those long-suffering Lions supporters something to cheer about can be considered nothing short of a modern-day miracle. That kick truly opened my eyes. Since then I wholeheartedly believe in the incomprehensible, I can grasp things beyond my level of understanding.
Yep. It happened.
Manson couldn’t kick, hell he couldn’t do a star jump, but somehow he played in a Collingwood premiership and then for Fitzroy. It’s amazing how life imitates art, because Manson playing professional football is as ridiculous as casting the hopelessly uncoordinated John Howard (the actor) in the starring role in ‘The Club’. Or Kevin Bacon as the retired NBA player in ‘The Air Up There’. I don’t think even Kevin believed he could pull that one off. Watching Kevin, pathetically hunched over, trying in vain to dribble the ball in the low post must have really destroyed the morale of the cast and crew who had travelled all the way to Africa in the hope of making the next ‘Raging Bull’.
Stick with 'Sleepers' Kevin
At least Kevin recognised a stinker, so after it went straight to video he went back to doing what he does best, playing evil kiddy fiddlers, and once again all was right in the world.
But Manson’s Whitten Oval miracle also means that Dane Swan winning the Brownlow is a very real possibility. What happened to the days when blokes with serious ink were there to be feared? Ready to break your nose with a club lock at any moment in a fit of road rage. Now tattoo sleeves have gone the way of peroxide and eyebrow piercings. Its going to be a real shame when we look back on the Brownlow winners of the decade like we did on the ‘Electifying Eighties’ and instead of Plugger with a dodgy mullet and a thousand yard stare that could start a war, we have a goose that can’t kick over a jam tin who’s scarred himself (on a large scale) for life. And paid for the privilege.
It’s disappointing that for all of Dermie’s preening and prancing in his hey day, large scale tattooing hadn’t yet become a trend. Otherwise I’m sure he he’d have the lyrics to ‘Armagheddon It’ by Def Lepard branded all the way down his forearm in 15 point Helvetica. That would be awesome.
(gimme all of you lovin)
Every little bit
(gimme all that you got)
Every bit of it
(every bit of your lovin)
Oh, cmon live a bit
(never wanna stop)
Yeah, but are you gettin it?
(armageddon it!)
Ooh, really gettin it?
(yes, armaggedon it!)
It seems the rest of the world has finally realised that Kyle Sandilands is in fact the spawn of the devil. It’s been an open secret in perceptive circles for a while now, much like Molly Meldrum’s sexuality or the fact that Delta Goodrem isn’t actually that hot.
It’s just a shame that he was able to anchor a national radio show and a high-rating TV program before anybody actually bothered to notice he had a forked tail. But I guess that’s what Beelzebub does best. Whenever I saw Kyle on the telly I was always reminded of Al Pacino’s Lucifer in ‘Devil’s Advocate’. Although Kyle's a lot less likeable. And not as handsome. And much thicker. Actually now I think about it replace Al Pacino with the hillbilly rapist from ‘Deliverence’. Yeah, that’s about right.
I just made this my Facebook profile picture
My only worries now concern the future of ‘Australian Idol’. How can they possibly replace someone as revolting as Sandilands? Especially when the only other possible candidate is Mark Holden and he’s already had a crack at it.
My solution is to look abroad. They should raid Manchester City for the one and only Craig Bellamy. This is a bloke who a former coach at Newcastle described as ‘the single most divisive player I’ve ever seen in the locker room’. When at Liverpool he attacked teetotaller Riise with a golf club as he slept because he wouldn’t join Bellamy in a Karaoke version of ‘My Heart Will Go On’ earlier in the night. No shit.
I don’t think we need to hear anymore, congratulations Craig you’ve got the job. We’re just going to need you to sign over your soul here buddy…
Touchdown!
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