Spirit of Gentleman

Another article on Goran Zoric at Police United, in Thai of course. I reckon South should sign an interstate or international player just so we can the get the airport photos. Last time we were at an airport was when the busload of Canberra trip fans sleepily greeted a mostly confused squad at 9am on Sunday morning. Gotta love their motto on the scarf but. 2010 Thai Premier League season starts March 6th.

Are you ready to laugh boys and girls?

Tomorrow is the day of the annual Clarendon Corner vs Original Melbourne 21 supporters match, which raises funds for our supporters group to make banners, fund gimmicks and help the club out where we can - this year that fund has already helped supplement the cost of the legendary Canberra trip, as well as buy the club a folding machine, amangst many worthy pursuits. Your correspondent will be playing in the shitkicker opening game tomorrow for the Whites against those evil Blues. There'll be food and drink as well, opening game starts at 1:00, main game at 3:15. Alas Cliff won't be there to sign autographs, but hopefully his mates decide to turn up.

South of the Border Awards for 2008

Yeah, yeah, time to do this again. Only I, Paul, had anything to do with this list. Except for the under 21 player of the year, which was handed to our own under 21 contributor of the year, Cliff. And his choice was a pretty good one, as well as his footage of our goal of the year.

Player of the year: Nathan Caldwell. Well duh. Put in plenty of effort throughout the year, set up some great chances, snagged a few goals, though he could've had more. Seemed revivatilsed by the arrival of Micky M. If anything, our most consistent player this season, when consistency was an attribute sorely lacking

Under 21 player of the year: Gianni De Nittis. Had a solid season particularly after the arrival of Micky M. Will be amongst the first signings of a Southern Cross team you'd hope.

Goal of the year: Not too many contenders, and some may think Fernando's free kick against Western Suburbs should be a shoe in, but no. The winner is Hamlet Armenian's goal against Oakleigh. Spectacular? No. From a short corner? Yes. 'Nuff said really. Now stop doing them.



Best performance over a whole match: Hmm, tough one. The Knights game at home, thoroughly enjoyed the game, even if we tired towards the end.

Best period of play during the season: Those two goals in two minutes against Preston at BT Connor. Probably.

Best away game: Richmond and Frankston would be right to feel jilted, where it for any other season where we didn't go to Canberra. Read all about it here, minus all the in-jokes that we just can't reprint.

Best call on the terraces: 'Why'? If you were there, you know what I'm talking about.

Chant of the year: Anything to do with this would have won


But best of all was the staccato, Pi O-esque oh. oh. oh. version. It was getting all literary and highbrow there for a sudden.

Sixteen hours of travel for eighty minutes of football

Edited, only very slightly revised version of the Canberra trip now up on The 84th Minute.

I and I is on da radio part 1

So, yes, it's true, part one of my interview with Eamonn of Football In The Capital/Nearpost Radio Show is online. I haven't heard it yet, might not ever hear it, but if you want to for some reason, the download link is below. The download itself is 50mb or thereabouts or you can stream it. Something less vainglorious tomorrow, but only just.

Nearpost Radio

Thanks also to the host for pronouncing my surname good, refreshing experience.

Canberra Trip Part 3 - Dodgy Asian betting and the ride home

So we're on the bus trying to figure out where the ground is, getting directions from a couple of kids that came up with their dad in their own car - one of which I was doing one of those vocalised/mouth noise guitar solos to Frozen Tears - but were hitching a ride with us to the game. Good thing they were there too or else we might've still been looking for the place. We eventually find the place, and we're early enough to co-ordinate a dramatic entrance - by Canberra standards - and take up a position on the hill. Except of course that I was roped in to do the dodgy Asian betting thing. So I'm off to the halfway line.

To explain what that's all about, as best I can. Betting firms of indeterminate legality in a place which or may or may not be called China hire people to hire people to 'call' or 'commentate' VPL games. Except that it really isn't commentating in an Andy Paschalidis kind of fashion, more stuff like 'away danger', 'home corner', etc. There's different levels of detail for different companies, but the main thing is that the gamblers and those listening to your commentary don't care so much about South Melbourne or Robbie Wynne (for example) as individual entities, rather as part of an over the phone, online, and imagined tug of war .

I had agreed not only to do one game of commentary with one guy on the line saying 'ok', but also have another guy on another phone just listening - and if he was to talk tome, my instructions were not to talk to him - which all got a bit difficult when the game was delayed because not enough pegs were holding the goals, something that would usually be checked during half time in the reserves, except that the AIS's reserves play in Victoria, and they're not really their reserves, they're just the VIS. Anyway, the guy who I was talking to seemed to understand that there was a delay - which just kept on dragging on - but the listener kept asking for information who was attacking and such.

He must've hung up as I then received a call from my boss for the day, some guy called Jerry, getting stuck into me, telling me that I wasn't doing a very good job as his client wasn't getting information on who was attacking and such. A little miffed because I've been telling one guy on the hands free and one on my own phone that game has been delayed and the reason for it. Explaining it to Jerry his tone changes fairly quickly, and we're back in business. The game eventually gets under way, and apart from a few early teething problems, the sun in my eyes, and a linesman doing his best to block out my view, it's going ok.

At the end of the first half, which at that moment I didn't realise had gone only 40 odd minutes, I noticed that my battery had gone down to one bar. Would it last to the end? A mad rush to find someone to swap sim cards with ensued; incompatible carrier; seemingly impossible to release sim card; I decided that I would just try my luck with what I had. Of course the confusion caused by the 40 minute halves started kick in during the second half. My 'listener' called in a few minutes into it, and my talking 'ok' guy dropped out entirely, and didn't call back. Persevering to the end, seeing the game in only a limited palette, I wondered whether it had all been worth it, and would I get paid? The players go over to the supporters and high five, shake hands and say thanks for coming, and despite coming in a little late, I get a gloved hand to Goran Zoric, and then get my head shaking in annoyance on camera at the farcical situation of it all, having driven eight hours up and with another eight to go, for 80 minutes of football.

Time to get back on the bus, with the previous night's missed sleep starting to catch up with me. There's still the travelling humour, but people are more tired, and sleep takes over. Even I start drifting in and out of consciousness from Albury onwards. Easy listening music drifts across, most of it dross, but there's the brief flicker of outstanding respite when Springsteen's 'The River' comes on. More Acropolis Now episodes get played, with at one stage the DVD stuck at the menu screen and playing the theme song about 12 times in a row. Most of the complaints are coming from the back, the hellish torture of the the song itself magnified by the fact that there's almost no way of getting past that many arms and legs stretched into the aisle in order to turn it off.

We stop at a few places, service stations, roadhouses. I buy myself a bag of marshmallows and the most crappy banana flavoured milk I've ever had. Not wanting to get a carton which I know I'll spill over the seats, it's the only thing in a bottle that isn't some variation of coffee. Someone as a joke buys a forbidden dim sim. Just outside Seymour a car is flipped onto its roof, a police car behind it. Someone gets dropped off in Wandong. Someone else on High Street. Finally back to where we started from, a quick clean out of the bus, and them time to go home. I'm going to catch a taxi, but it's insisted that I get a lift with someone. That someone turns out to be a person who can't quite grasp the purposes of speedbumps and roundabouts, but there's no complaining, as I'm expected to be grateful. And when I get home in one piece, I am.



- This would have been better had I taken notes, but perhaps it would have lost some of its charm. With thanks to everyone involved on the trip, but especially Michal, Eamonn and Tony.

Canberra Trip Part 2 - Canberra sights and sounds

It's before 7am when the announcement is quietly made. We're in Canberra. I'm wide awake, but that's no defense against the near freezing conditions that are present. It's worse for those who didn't plan on bringing enough warm clothing, or who happen to be coming down from the artificial warming effects of a night's alcohol consumption. A barbecue on the shores of Lake Burley Griffin sees people huddled under one of the park's gazebos, trying to find some sort of shelter from the cold. Sausages, bacon, bread, sauce, orange juice. Maybe it's my being a morning person with their senses fully intact, maybe it's memories of sausage sizzles at Melbourne Uni, but I restrict myself to a cup of juice. A small kick around in one of the sunny spots helps warm up a half dozen or so people, but care must be taken not kick the ball too hard or in between two people as the ball will find a way of running away. I don't suffer the fate of needing to chase, and that's a good thing.

Somewhat fed and a little less cold as Sol eventually gets to work, the group then proceeds towards Canberra International Airport, in the hopes of greeting the team who were due to arrive that morning. There is scoffing at the smallness of the facility, somehow not befitting that of a capital, though I'm about to learn that Canberra is a capital in the sense of an American state capital; somewhat in name only, akin to an Albany or Annapolis. We pass a very small group of Melbourne fans who've come up for their game against Sydney at Manuka, and families waiting for diplomats or whatever to turn up. The squad is just about to leave the departure area, and the fans chanting with the last vestiges of sleep still manage to turn a few heads, and mingle briefly with the players, who appear to either a little confused or completely at ease with the situation, though Sam Poutakidis is more than at ease. Supporting South is a state of mind perhaps now more than ever. Early morning airport sojourn dispensed with, it was time to see more of what the city had to offer.

For the benefit of international readers, Canberra has a reputation as a more liberal town, where the purchase of items such as fireworks and pornography is legal unlike in the rest of Australia. So off we went to one of the two districts which can legally sell porn, Fyshwick, which some of the more juvenile travellers had been looking forward to for awhile. Parking in front of one these infamous sex shops, it comes as little surprise to me, but perhaps more so to others, that it's juts like any other adult superstore type place that exists. More sterile than a hospital ward, which at least has plenty 0f signs of life, I wander the aisles trying to figure out what the fuss was all about. Is it perhaps the lack of stigma attached if you visit a sex store 500 kilometres from home? Isn't this stuff available on the Internet at comparatively next to no cost? Or am I lacking the connoisseurs eye? The highlight is the group photo outside the store, with one of the more creative minds inside the window display, wrapping a South scarf around one of the mannequins.

The next stop on the itinenary is a visit to Parliament House. Throughout our travels in the city, the lack of traffic is one of the things that stands out. Yes it's a small city, it's winter, and it's a Sunday, but there's still for me a slightly unnerving lack of people, of movement. After having taken the requisite group photos, some supporters had a six in six soccer match on Parliament's front lawn under the watch of the Australian Federal Police, while more highbrow fans decided to take a tour of the building. This is my time to duck out and see Eamonn so we can do my radio spot. After a quick scan of the periphery, I ask some AFP bystanders the way to the nearest taxi rank; somewhere within the underground carpark where the bus was parked. Walking for what seems a while in the massive underground space, I eventually find the payphone/waiting bay. I make the call and wait.

A white haired British Isle accented driver picks me up and we start chatting, but it's one of those forced conversations that you have with a driver so he doesn't think you're a serial killer. He parks in the driveway, and Eamonn's already there, and reimburses my fare. A good start. Inside the studio, I get the rundown, a quick practice run to make sure everything's recording, and then we're away. Going through the past, present and future, all in ten minutes, microphone slipping, Gary Hasler mentioned alongside Trimmers and Boutsi, but at the end of it, a good feeling, I didn't say anything stupid, and that my voice was made for radio anyway. Filled with a quiet sense of accomplishment, Eamonn drives me back to Parliament House, where people ask where I've been.

This was followed by a long lunch held at the Hellenic Club. Some people allegedly couldn't handle the long line - which really wasn't that long - and opted to go buy food from elsewhere. For what it's worth, the 'Mexican' chicken I had was quite nice, and we had a prime spot along the window, with plenty of natural light which wasn't as bountiful as in other places. Overall I found the decor and environment all a bit gauche to be honest. I suppose they had to include the 'Greekness' in somewhere, but it just didn't fit naturally for me. Supposed to have been on the bus by 2 O'clock, but we only at about about twenty minutes after that. Left us in a little bit of rush to get to the ground.

Canberra Trip Part 1 - Night journey through frost

Plans fretted over for weeks were finally in place. Bus booked, an itinerary of sorts planned. The Hellenic Club of Canberra informed of our needing 40 odd seats for lunch. A date with Eamonn of Football In The Capital set up. No turning back now. Skipped the Altona City-Altona East derby game in order to rest up a bit for the overnight coach ride. There's meant to be a small gathering at a pub beforehand, which turns out to be just that; three of us, a bowl of fries, and drinks. Somehow this is where I get roped in initially to helping a mate do his dodgy betting syndicate work. But more on that later.

After having a drink at the Water Rat, we rock up to Lakeside a little early, and see only a few recognised faces there, and a bus which may or may not be ours. About 10 metres away another group of people stand around, like us, waiting, but I'm not sure what for. They're probably thinking the same thing about us. Slowly more people start to arrive, and then we figure out that, yes, that is our bus. Moving across we greet those already there. The last one to arrive is of course a boardmember. Parking permits handed out, names checked off, banners and eskies are loaded onto the bus, finally on our way, Australian banner with South logo draped over the back seat.

I take a spot right at the back, with space next to me, and away from the majority of those intending to drink. The climate control chucked it in early. Frost blocked whatever view one could have seen, on a dark and overcast night. Not sure if anyone can see the flag out the back, but not sure that it matters anyway, more symbolic than anything perhaps. The first part of the official in-flight entertainment are highlights of South's early 90s years. From the back of the bus, it's hard to make out if people are appreciating what's being shown; while there's no pressure of course to make people watch, I wonder what all the complaining is about. If football didn't start in this country in 2005, did it start in 1996? Perhaps I'm too harsh. Perhaps I have too much reverence for that era. Perhaps people were busy enjoying themselves in other ways.

We stop at places with names and others, like Avenel, where it doesn't seem to matter either way. Like my trip by bus to the Gold Coast back in 1999, with so much of it night, it's hard to tell whether there's any civilisation connected to the petrol stations. And hard to tell what's on the other side the embankments, apart from shadowy black hills. The highlight of the stops was a McDonalds somewhere still in Victoria, possibly outside Wangaratta where one cook and one worker on the register were suddenly faced with the prospect of feeding 30 hungry South fans on what was probably meant to be quiet night at work. People patiently lined up, ordered, stood to the side while their meal was prepared, ate. It all went rather smoothly.

At every stop, getting off means getting the blood flowing again, staving off a sleep that won't come anyway for a little while longer, waiting until morning. It also means dodging cigarette smoke and toxic and noisy bursts of flatus. While the early part of the trip is lively enough, with the highlight being the necessary 2am phonecall to a supporter who pulled out to due to illness, and HFC chants while travelling through their Northcote heartland, eventually most people end up getting some sleep. I'm hoping to see at least some of the sunrise, but the frost, the mountains and the constantly shifting direction of the bus as it winds through looking for an entry point to Canberra defeat me. All in all, the journey was a blast, even this review may not seem indicate it was. How can you communicate the already forgotten conversations, the in-jokes, the hilarity of the moment which can't be transcribed, only experienced. Oh, and the multiple renditions of Frozen Tears' 'South Melbourne', which everyone gets thoroughly sick of by the end of the trip, but will treasure in their hearts regardless.

8 hours up and 8 hours back for 80 minutes of football - AIS 0 South Melbourne 0

The story of the trip will be serialised in a hitherto unknown timeframe. Anyway as for the game itslef, owing to the AIS not having enough pegs in their goals, there was dleayed start of about 20-25 minutes, the game was cut to 40 minutes halves, the AIS got better as the game went on, but we were unusually organised all over the field, and had by far the better chances.

Capital bound - Round 18, Australian Institute of Sport vs South Melbourne

Last time they met:
Round 5, 2008 at Lakeside Stadium, aka where was my freakin free BBQ?

South Melbourne 0 Australian Institute of Sport 2

Uninspired stuff from both sides early on before the AIS stepped up a notch in the 2nd half. Fernando put a 1st half penalty wide which would given Hellas the lead and perhaps changed the game. As it was, the visitors' highly rated Jason Naidovski was best afield, scoring a double, including a cracker for the sealer.

Preview
Away trip hurrah! Well no actually. Ever get the feeling that the meticulous planning that goes into something like this will end up being unappreciated by some person or people? Who will go out of their way to fuck it up for everyone else? I don't know why, but that's the feeling I'm getting. Call it my cynical streak or woman's intuition, whatever it is, it's tempering the excitement that I'm feeling. Maybe I'm too bourgeois? But you know someone will probably over consume glorified urine. Partake of poisoned truckstop fruit. Blow off a useful limb or burn off an eyebrow or two. Lose their temper and be unable to find it. Make a costly mistake. It's all fun and games... ta polla gelia telionon sta klamata... have fun everyone... I'll try my best not to be that person, and I hope that you do too.

There was movement at the station

Head to this site for info on our supporters trip to Canberra for the AIS match on June 22nd. Then ponder why the SMFC Board won't put it up themselves.

http://smfcsupporters.com.au/