Grand Final Day With Strauchnie

Strauchnie (Pronounced Straw-Knee) and the style that got him to Collingwood on a massive contract.

Well, This past Saturday as everyone should know (or for my English friends maybe not), was AFL Grand Final Day. That's Aussie Rules, the "Real Football". And we were lucky enough to have a celebrity guest...

After watching the World Cup (and a Plethora of Premiership and Champions League Fixtures) amongst a group of the most patriotic if not the most patriotic people on Earth, I figured I was starting to really get into the "World Game" as we call it, and lose all fleeting interest for our version of kick the ball around a park. But, Grand Final Day is a day to look forward to all year round in Austraya, and this year was no different, especially when the boys who partook in celebrations at a little place called "The Chev", consumed more alcohol in 17 hours than Maradona between Argentina matches... But a bit more of that later.

Comparisons can't be made to a World Cup Final. I mean, you have to buy tickets to watch it in a pub, if you can find one open. You can't drink William DeGrave's finest, only watered-down Fosters, and well, not to whinge, but it's not Grand Final Day, is it! Its like a changing of a season, End of the game, you know the next beer you sink will be watching the Aussies do battle with the rest of the world in the middle of the "G". In England, the end of the Premiership season is like the beginning of the new one. Now I'm not saying one is better than the other, not at all... And I hear you saying "But its the World Cup" - well, if there was a World Cup for Aussie Rules, we would get around it, open our pubs at 8am and get on it till the same time the next day, oh yeah, and we would win it...

So, anyway, enough of my cruddy comparisons of these 2 totally different and perplexing sports. Grand Final day was upon me, so, at 8am (alarm was set), up I get and stop in at the local store, or the "Magra Village" as it is known to those in the loop, for some Chips. Now, I was faced with a daunting task - Salt and Vinegar, BBQ or Chicken... So I got all 3 to keep the masses happy, and show I can bring more than beer to this party. Meat was sorted and supplied by the Ball and Chain (I think, thanks Big Unit), and beer was a "Bring what you can" affair. A late text from Rodders ensured The Lance would be loaded, as he needed a new box of "Teds". 3 cartons in The Lance, 2 for me of course (of which 1 remains, I drank the reserve of Degrave's Gold and found it to be a bottomless supply) and one for Rod Rod. I arrived at Chev nigh on 9:45, just in time for the TAC cup final - to my despair, the plasma had been moved downstairs but connections for digital TV there were not - nevermind, Pre-Match Commentary ensued, and Rod and I began our quest of drinking right through the day. Ash was busy preparing the food, and of course last minute alterations to the guest list (The Bec Star, as fate would have it, decided to invite her friends around as it was also her Birthday, this of course not proving a problem, only that we had to barricade the room as to not let too many female hormones get us all girly for the big day, and waiver our concentration from getting extremely pissed) saw the expected crowd swell into the high twenties.

After several games of 8-ball, none of which I won, and a couple of games of "Around the World" Darts, of which I won the Championship match (Hereby shall be known as "Around the World Interational Champion"), it was time to take our seats for pre-match entertainment and of course first round of food off the Barbie. Ash had kindly cooked up some Bacon and Egg Sarnies for the boys, and just quietly, Creme' De Mont'h, did they go down a treat. Unfortunately the Pre-Match was a bit of a shocker, other than of course "Up there Cazaly" - Gets the old butterflies going that one. One after another the Australian Idiots, sorry Idols had their go, painful as it was. We invented our own form of entertainment, calling "Bang" whenever we saw a piece of skirt (or "nice young females whom we find slightly attractive" for those a bit sensitive). The boys who didn't call "Bang" had to take a swig - no one too keen to join me and Rodders on our Journey today.

So as it goes, Footy started, Ash fired up the BBQ with a Plethora of dishes (no chicken let it be noted) and Gibbo, or, "The Moose", got home from work. Now, its weird yes we both have the nickname Moose, mine being moreso a direct cricket nickname which has stuck to me like shit to a blanket. Gibbo was Moose first - I should know, I made it up. Thankyou Ben Targett for creating the same nickname as my mate 5 months after I gave it to him. Original. Anyway, the expected crowd decided not to show which meant a lot of beer could go to waste - never fear, the boys are here, and mental we went until half time, when we had an AFL star turn up to kick around the footy with us. Collingwood Gun, Strauchnie.

STRAUCHNIEEEEEEE!!!!!!

We couldn't believe it. We also couldn't believe he didn't win the shot at goal contest, and looked still hungover from the Brownlow Medal. Nevertheless, Chaos ensued when Strauchnie came back inside - Girls all over him, and he showed no interest in watching the footy... Shattered, we left him to it and downstairs we headed for the second half, which turned out to be a ball buster. Final Score was West Coast 85, Sydney 84 - only the second Grand Final since St Kilda won their one and only Flag in 1966. Strauchnie eventually left with 6 of Bec's friends and left the boys to it. We continued to drink, only this time while playing SWAT on the X Box, on the plasma. Needless to say being the Sony Champion doesn't bode well on X Box, but I held my own even if I couldn't see half my screen past Gibbo's cranium. Vodka eased the pain of defeat and upstairs for some impromptu wrestling saw Gibbo bleed, Rod split in 2 and McNaughton (Special Guest Referee coz I don't wanna hurt the boys) sent home with a suspected broken knee cap. Not Really but its a good story and doesn't make me look too soft, even though I am. Ash remains Undisputed World Champion, as he has been since 1998.

Me showing why I forged an early retirement from the game, aged 17. Please notice the massive "guns" and for those in England you will know my shirt intimitely... this was a shot from at least 60 out on the run which I put through admirably... through someones window about 15 metres to my left.

And clocks had to go forward... So when we thought 3am was a good finish time, it turned out to be 4 and an hour till daylight... So we decided come 11 we would play Tennis. And a brief run down? McNaughton/Oakley (AKA Pistol Pete Sampras/Pat Cash) Vs Gibson/Rhodes (AKA Bjorg/Philloppousis) - We took the first set 6-4, lost the second 6-0 (we were starting to feel extremely ill - vodka perhaps?) and went down 6-3 in the third. Admirable considering we both felt like turning inside out.

So, a big day, and a bigger hangover... BANG!

Go the Pies!!!

p.s. Strauchnie is actually me old mate Rod, whom does a terrific Strauchnie and I thought deserved a mention. Poms, I will buy the Strauchnie DVD and send over to show you.