Put down the glasses, I said. This NRL season is all over, I said. There are only two teams in it, I said, and Penrith will beat the Warriors in the grand final.
And what have we seen since, as this weekend marks the halfway point? Only two teams in it – Penrith and the Warriors. They played on Sunday night, and the Panthers won 20-18 in a thriller.
Is there any other team in the comp that can get close to them? There is not. Manly have been marvellous in the way they have come back since Kieran Foran took over after three losses, and Cronulla, on a good day, have bursts of greatness, as do the Roosters. But the Broncos are done, the Raiders are struggling and the Tigers feel like they have already peaked.
It will be, as I said, a Panthers-Warriors grand final, and Penrith will win it. This is why, friends, they call me The Sage.
Meantime, also in league, look for my Q and A with Mitchell Pearce online and in Sunday’s Sun-Herald. The life of the former NRL hell-raiser has taken several turns, none of which I ever even conceived on my football futures bingo card.
The life of Ryan. Or Toby?
There was an amusing yarn in the NRL last week when twin brothers Toby and Ryan Couchman from St George Illawarra pulled a prank on the press.
To mark Toby’s 50th NRL game a press conference was held and the journos dutifully took their place to ask questions – only for the nearly identical looking brothers to pull a switcheroo.
Ryan fronted instead of his brother and answered questions, struggling not to laugh, as the real Toby stood quietly up the back, equally struggling not to howl with high hilarity – until a Dragons staff member stepped in and called off the jam. And a good time was had by all.
French revolution
Speaking of twins, one more time for the road. TFF has long cherished the story of what happened with twins Mark and Glen Ella on the 1983 Wallabies tour of France, when Mark was the highly esteemed captain of the side and Glen had just been dropped.
Heading out from his Parisian hotel to drown his sorrows, Glen was suddenly besieged by journalists in the foyer of the Wallabies’ hotel.
“Mark, Mark, Mark!” they asked Glen, “what do you think of France, the tour and the French side you’ll be facing on Saturday?”
So Glen tells them: “France is a shocking place, with terrible food and very ordinary looking women, while the French team are absolute crap, with backs who have no idea how to play and forwards who don’t know how to really tackle and hurt someone.”
And off he walks, into the Parisian night!
They’ve still got their marbles
For Gawd’s sake, we need some new terminology to get around having to call this long weekend the “King’s Birthday” weekend. Look, when we were little Australians, of course celebrating the birthday of an English aristocrat was what went with the territory. But we are, surely, better than that now.
Still, don’t get me started, as I have been known to go on for some time …
And yet, if this is the June long weekend, that must mean that the Australian Marbles Championships are on again, yes, at Brunnie Heads?
Yes!
My man on the ground, Damian Farrell – the founder, organiser and sometime champion – delights in telling me: “It’s ON!”
“We are dusting off the tombolers, the cat’s eyes, the swirls, the slags and the ribbons as well as WD40ing our arthritic and forlorn fingers and thumbs,” he said. “Personally, I’m focused this year, to bring back the halcyon days (when I won it in 2019 and remained undefeated until 2024, thanks to COVID and a couple of washouts). Beaten in 2024 by a 14-year-old Queensland upstart and then letting the tilt at the title go again last year to a local Brazilian surfboard shaper (Alex Tenfen) with far too honed small and gross motor skills.”
It’s played in the park opposite the pub at Brunswick Heads, and goes from 11am to 2pm. This year it will feature local resident and community legend, 80-something-year-old Mary Ashton, who has announced this is her last go for the title.
Give peace a chance
I have pretty much zero interest in soccer, bar the Matildas when they are going well, and the Socceroos when they are in the World Cup. And how funny I should say that. For while you were sleeping, that event has been creeping up on us, and two things have indeed attracted my interest.
The first is, the struggle World Cup organisers have had to sell tickets. With the execrable Donald Trump running a xenophobic regime, numbers of overseas attendees are predicted to fall away, which risks delivering embarrassingly empty stands. In an effort to spare themselves the humiliation, the Saudi Arabians have even been giving away their Cup tickets.
I have a better idea. Why doesn’t FIFA give every attendee, at every game, their own FIFA Peace Prize?
But hang on, you say, they haven’t done anything to deserve such a prize?
So what? That didn’t stop FIFA last time they awarded it – to Trump – setting a post-war record for egregious sucking up to unworthy wannabe dictators, that will never be broken.
The second thing of interest is the Kiwi player Tim Payne, who until last week was the most unheard of footballer we’d never heard of. And then, on a whim, an Argentinian influencer, Valen Scarsini, put up a post: “There are only a few days left before the World Cup starts and we are all waiting to cheer for our national team, but what if there was a player who united us all, a footballer we all support regardless of their nationality? I searched through all the national teams playing in the World Cup for the least known one and after analysing them one by one I found him. In group G, in New Zealand, there is Tim Payne. He really is the least known. He doesn’t even have 5000 followers [on Instagram].”
That was then. Payne now has 4 million!
The falcon strikes again
TFF’s second most favourite NRL commentator Greg “Brandy” Alexander used the expression again last Friday night, as one player kicked the ball right into the head of another player: “He’s ‘falconed’ him!”
These days, to be “falconed” is an accepted part of the vernacular. But where did it come from, I hear the younger ones ask? You’ve come to the right place!
It came from a great rugby league player from the 1980s and ’90s, Mario Fenech, whose nickname was “The Maltese Falcon”, because of his Maltese heritage. Right near the end of Mario’s career, he was captaining the Queensland Crushers in their inaugural season, and in round two they were playing the Eels at Parramatta Stadium. It was a shocking game, and just before half-time, the Crushers’ Ray Herring threw a pass that hit his captain, Mario, in the head.
The whole thing took on new life when The Footy Show would use the clip to introduce Mario, who had the virtue of not only being a well liked and great former player, but also capable of laughing at himself. This led to the “Golden Falcon Award” for players who copped a ball in the head during matches and … the rest is history.
What they said
Rugby League Players Association chief executive Clint Newton: “I think our game is easy to understand by comparison to rugby, AFL and different American codes, which is why we’re able to attract new markets.” Sorry, what, Clint? What “new markets” are you referring to? Is that the 20,000 Americans that watched the last Vegas game?
Broncos prop Payne Haas after his reigning premiers fell to the Dragons, who recorded their first win in 295 days: “We’re all talk at the moment. We keep saying we’re going to do all these important things on the field, but to be honest, we’re BS-ing each other.” Thank goodness he cleaned his words up from saying “bull shitting”, as that would have been shocking.
Carlton’s Patrick Cripps after his winning goal against Geelong: “Sometimes those moments pop up and you take them, but I’m not going to lie, it was a bit of an out-of-body experience after I kicked it.”
Tennis player Adolfo Daniel Vallejo, not happy with the umpiring at the French Open after his loss to a hometown hero Moise Kouame: “This sort of match needs to be umpired by a man. It’s very difficult for a woman to do it. It has to be refereed by a man, because it’s a very demanding crowd and you need a lot of strength to go against the crowd.” I know. Me, too.
Novak Djokovic after he dropped a two-set lead at the French Open to “crash out”, as we say in the trade, on whether he missed a great chance to get another grand slam title after Sinner’s exit: “I don’t care. I don’t care. I’ll stop you right there. No. Just lost third round. Let’s just talk about something else. Thank you.”
Maja Chwalinska, on making it to the final at Roland-Garros, after having to win qualifying rounds just to get through the gates: “I honestly don’t know what is happening.”
Alex De Minaur dealing with his own demons after he won the opening set to love and dropped the next three to be knocked out in the third round: “I don’t need more reasons to be disappointed in myself. Right now, I’m pretty gutted.”
Andrew Abdo on leaving the NRL to run Tennis Australia: “My wife is a massive tennis fan, and during the interview process, she said to me, and I quote, ‘Andrew, this is my dream job for you’, so I felt a lot of pressure, but I’m equally excited.”
Paris Saint-Germain’s Desire Doue after they won the Champions League: “I thank my lord and saviour Jesus Christ because that was my prayer.” Good ol’ Jesus. Sports’ greatest supercoach.
Gujarat Titans captain Shubman Gill on losing the IPL final: “If we’d have gotten 180-190, it’d have been a good match.” Et si ma tante en’avait …
Gujarat batting coach Matthew Hayden: “We have apex predators but couldn’t get going in the powerplay.” Don’t ask me. No clue.
Sachin Tendulkar on 15-year-old Vaibhav Sooryavanshi: “I mean he is something truly special. And not just the ability to hit the ball, but what also fascinated me was the wrist work that he has.”
Naomi Osaka after her French Open elimination: “I kind of realised that it doesn’t matter at all … Honestly, like, hitting a ball doesn’t really matter on Earth, kind of.” She’s right, of course. But as the madness leaves her, so too will her abilities. I predict a retirement soon, followed by two or three half-arsed comebacks.
Dragon Valentine Holmes, after he was part of a winning team for the first time this century: “Vintage Val’ is back.” Up himself, much?
New Zealand soccer coach Darren Bazeley admitted he has no idea what’s happening with Tim Payne: “I’m not very social media savvy. From my understanding, it’s obviously a big deal – the numbers they’re talking about is huge. But I don’t really understand the mechanics behind numbers and what that means.”
Team of the week
The Dragons. Coincidence? You be the judge. The St George Illawarra mob actually had – checks notes to confirm – a win, just as a blue moon rose over Sydney town. Spooky!
Maja Chwalinska. Forced to go through the qualifiers to make it to the French Open at Roland-Garros, the 24-year-old Polish woman has made it all the way to the final tonight (AEST).
Carlton. Have won three matches after their former coach Michael Voss was sacked. Shades of the Sea Eagles. Though the stunning thing with the latter is that they have now won eight of 10 matches since Anthony Seibold was sacked and Kieran Foran took over.
Socceroos. Another World Cup warm up tomorrow morning (5am, AEST) against Switzerland. Toot, toot! The quadrennial bandwagon is beginning to roll, and I am on it.
Jai Hindley. The Australian cyclist is just the second one of our men to enjoy three overall podium finishes in grand tours as he rode home for a valiant third place in the Giro d’Italia. The other Aussie is Cadel Evans.
Australian women’s sevens team. Heads to Bordeaux this weekend with the chance to become world champions. And they need a nickname, yes? Our lines are open.
Australian women’s rowing VIII. Won gold, gold, gold for Australia at the first World Cup I regatta in Seville last weekend.
Newington First XV. Beat Joeys First XV 43-41 with a try on the bell at Stanmore on Thursday arvo.