Themis
08-04-08, 07:28 AM
Rabbitohs start the long road back
By Nick Walshaw
April 07, 2008 12:00am
THERE won't be any cameras at Erskineville Oval today. No documentary crews, Sydney paparrazzi or publicists in Porsches.
No one to capture the real South Side Story.
"Mate, we know people think it's all lights, cameras and Hollywood here," Dean Widders shrugs. "That we all walk around like movie stars with big heads.
"But when we run 400s at training we do them the same as anyone else. We only take the field with 13 too. And when we're going bad . . . mate, we expect to get our arses kicked."
As they sit battered, bleeding and with ice on parts of their body you thought impossible to hurt, Rabbitohs players will quietly tell you they always knew the pressure was going to be on this year.
What with their two millionaire owners, Philadelphia trips and Bra Boy movie premieres. The upgraded facilities, infamous silver bunny keyrings and that schmick new merchandising range.
And if Giorgio Armani received a dollar for every time someone has mentioned those bloody striped suits they wear . . . well, the little Italian could buy himself another yacht, Porsche, wife . . . whatever.
Yep, this was supposed to be the year of the Bunny. Even Russell Crowe predicted as much when, during his takeover celebrations back in March 2006, he was asked to put on a time frame on delivery of the club's first premiership since 1971.
"2008 sounds good," he oozed. "The 100th year of the club. But I'm like that, I like things organised."
But, after losing to Manly at Brookvale yesterday, Maximus and his legion of battlers have once again slumped to their usual position on the NRL table. Four games, four losses. Stone motherless last.
Now this is when the cameras should really be rolling. Documenting the weights sessions. The endless training drills. Seeing if there really is a Cinderella Man story in Redfern.
But they won't.
"Because we don't give a damn about what people think of us," skipper Roy Asotasi said last night. "We've lost four games and have to turn that around.
"And we'll do it the same way Manly, Melbourne or any other team in the NRL would."
Of course, Sunday afternoon started promisingly enough for the Bunnies. Nathan Merritt posting first points when he kicked a penalty goal after only 11 minutes.
Had Rabbitohs fans known it would be their only points of the game, maybe they would've cheered harder. Or left.
Because for the next 69 minutes, South Sydney were unorganised, unsuccessful, just plain ugly. In fact, Crowe may have to consider his cheergirl ban if he wants to see anything even remotely attractive in coming weeks.
On the last play Souths passed forward and kicked dead. Got themselves tackled. Dropped more ball than a month of Lotto results.
It was attacking ineptitude that reached rock bottom midway through the second half. When Merritt failed to find touch with a penalty kick.
So Eagles fullback Brett Stewart picked up the loose ball, started to motor and suddenly found things all too easy . . . palming off Merritt and Shannan McPherson on a 60m run to the tryline.
It was that type of afternoon for the Bunnies. Prop Michael Greenfield leaving the field with concussion, but coach Jason Taylor heading back across the Spit Bridge with a bigger headache.
"We made improvements to our defence," JT deadpanned afterwards. "But in other areas we went backwards."
And so today that South Side Story really begins. A chance to prove "Pride of the League" is more than a useful marketing tool.
Because there's no doubting Taylor's ability. You don't become the only interim coach in 100 years to lead a side to the finals - like he did with Parramatta in 2006 - if you don't have a great footy brain, passion and the respect of those warriors in your charge.
Likewise, the Rabbitohs players cannot be accused of lacking heart. For large portions of yesterday's game they penetrated the Manly half. Pushing, competing, trying.
But never once looking a real threat.
Sure, they kept Manly to three tries. But whether that was good defence or poor attack is debatable. At one stage the grandstand turned its attention to a fight between the two mascots.
And, for the record, the Sea Eagle won that stink too. Convincingly.
But none of this matters today. When the players find Erskineville Oval a galaxy away from those flashbulbs, red carpet functions and promising boasts of a new owner.
"Because we're footballers," Widders smiles. "We're here to play football.
"And when you get in a bad patch like this, mate, there is no easy way out."
By Nick Walshaw
April 07, 2008 12:00am
THERE won't be any cameras at Erskineville Oval today. No documentary crews, Sydney paparrazzi or publicists in Porsches.
No one to capture the real South Side Story.
"Mate, we know people think it's all lights, cameras and Hollywood here," Dean Widders shrugs. "That we all walk around like movie stars with big heads.
"But when we run 400s at training we do them the same as anyone else. We only take the field with 13 too. And when we're going bad . . . mate, we expect to get our arses kicked."
As they sit battered, bleeding and with ice on parts of their body you thought impossible to hurt, Rabbitohs players will quietly tell you they always knew the pressure was going to be on this year.
What with their two millionaire owners, Philadelphia trips and Bra Boy movie premieres. The upgraded facilities, infamous silver bunny keyrings and that schmick new merchandising range.
And if Giorgio Armani received a dollar for every time someone has mentioned those bloody striped suits they wear . . . well, the little Italian could buy himself another yacht, Porsche, wife . . . whatever.
Yep, this was supposed to be the year of the Bunny. Even Russell Crowe predicted as much when, during his takeover celebrations back in March 2006, he was asked to put on a time frame on delivery of the club's first premiership since 1971.
"2008 sounds good," he oozed. "The 100th year of the club. But I'm like that, I like things organised."
But, after losing to Manly at Brookvale yesterday, Maximus and his legion of battlers have once again slumped to their usual position on the NRL table. Four games, four losses. Stone motherless last.
Now this is when the cameras should really be rolling. Documenting the weights sessions. The endless training drills. Seeing if there really is a Cinderella Man story in Redfern.
But they won't.
"Because we don't give a damn about what people think of us," skipper Roy Asotasi said last night. "We've lost four games and have to turn that around.
"And we'll do it the same way Manly, Melbourne or any other team in the NRL would."
Of course, Sunday afternoon started promisingly enough for the Bunnies. Nathan Merritt posting first points when he kicked a penalty goal after only 11 minutes.
Had Rabbitohs fans known it would be their only points of the game, maybe they would've cheered harder. Or left.
Because for the next 69 minutes, South Sydney were unorganised, unsuccessful, just plain ugly. In fact, Crowe may have to consider his cheergirl ban if he wants to see anything even remotely attractive in coming weeks.
On the last play Souths passed forward and kicked dead. Got themselves tackled. Dropped more ball than a month of Lotto results.
It was attacking ineptitude that reached rock bottom midway through the second half. When Merritt failed to find touch with a penalty kick.
So Eagles fullback Brett Stewart picked up the loose ball, started to motor and suddenly found things all too easy . . . palming off Merritt and Shannan McPherson on a 60m run to the tryline.
It was that type of afternoon for the Bunnies. Prop Michael Greenfield leaving the field with concussion, but coach Jason Taylor heading back across the Spit Bridge with a bigger headache.
"We made improvements to our defence," JT deadpanned afterwards. "But in other areas we went backwards."
And so today that South Side Story really begins. A chance to prove "Pride of the League" is more than a useful marketing tool.
Because there's no doubting Taylor's ability. You don't become the only interim coach in 100 years to lead a side to the finals - like he did with Parramatta in 2006 - if you don't have a great footy brain, passion and the respect of those warriors in your charge.
Likewise, the Rabbitohs players cannot be accused of lacking heart. For large portions of yesterday's game they penetrated the Manly half. Pushing, competing, trying.
But never once looking a real threat.
Sure, they kept Manly to three tries. But whether that was good defence or poor attack is debatable. At one stage the grandstand turned its attention to a fight between the two mascots.
And, for the record, the Sea Eagle won that stink too. Convincingly.
But none of this matters today. When the players find Erskineville Oval a galaxy away from those flashbulbs, red carpet functions and promising boasts of a new owner.
"Because we're footballers," Widders smiles. "We're here to play football.
"And when you get in a bad patch like this, mate, there is no easy way out."