AFL Gunships hit nrl "heartland" in GWS territory!

[Grim Reaper]

[King-Eliagh]

That guy looks pretty bulked up.


You sure he's on the AFL side Grim?

[Grim Reaper]

He is a former nrl player who has seen the light and joined the good guys

[Beaussie]

Nice one Grim

[Beaussie]

Thought you might find the following amusing Grim. Death to the NRL.

An NRL divided against itself cannot stand
Richard Hinds
August 13, 2011

IT is the year 2031. At Rooty Hill Oval, an AFL game is under way. In the crowd, small groups wearing tattered rugby league jerseys watch the proceedings with barely disguised contempt.

''Bloody Victorian game,'' says Gus Gould, the leader of the People's Front of Rugby League. ''Could've kept 'em out if not for the do-nothings from Rugby League People's Front. Splitters.''

Nearby, David Gallop is huddled with his supporters. He looks at Gould and snarls. ''Huh, there's Gould and his mates from the PFRL. Where was he when they were coming across the border? Doodling on his note pad. Practically put up the AFL goal posts himself. Splitters!''

At half-time, a rugby league ball is brought to the centre of the field. AFL Grand Master Kevin Sheedy gives the ceremonial thumbs down. The ball is incinerated. The crowd roars.

Gould and Gallop look across contemptuously at a lone man with a beer, Todd Carney. ''Popular Front of Rugby League,'' they both say. ''Splitter!''

OK, the allusion to the scene from Life of Brian is excruciating. But, as some of rugby league's most influential characters go at each other's throats about how to combat the AFL's incursion into western Sydney, it is not completely far-fetched.

For a big game, the NRL is a remarkably small world. Perhaps it is a consequence of the NRL's inevitable conflicts of interest, residual bitterness from the Super League war or merely the combative nature and sizeable egos of those involved in a tough person's sport. Whatever the reason, the NRL is so riddled with petty infighting and personality-driven squabbles that Jerry Springer should have been a walk-up start for the new commission.

That a spat between rugby league ''personalities'' Ray Hadley and Andrew Voss about Voss's critical opinion of a statue of Ray Warren was considered worthy of serious discussion this week says something about the game's often incestuous and inward-looking culture. It leaves the impression that too many use rugby league as a means of self-promotion or to run personal agendas, and not enough are seriously analysing and advancing important issues. Issues upon which the game's prosperity depends.

But it was the week's more significant ''doodlegate'' stoush between new Penrith boss Phil Gould and NRL chief executive David Gallop that should be of greater concern for those harbouring concerns about the future. Regardless of the rights and wrongs of their long-standing feud, that one of the NRL's most astute and respected figures and its leading executive struggle to put aside personal differences to fight a common enemy is disturbing.

Even if Gould does not want to be the NRL's western Sydney messiah, his thoughtful and alarming report from the frontline about the speed of the AFL advance should have been embraced. Yet, even allowing for his frustration with the NRL's response to the AFL, by using his observations as a weapon in a personal argument with Gallop, Gould diminishes his authority.

Gallop feels besieged and under-appreciated. Just back from the Army Surplus store to buy a riot shield for an impending visit to Melbourne, he is pilloried for allegedly failing to mount an adequate defence. This after working hard to hold the game together in difficult times with - by AFL standards - little more than a tube of Tarzan's Grip.

Yet, as much as he would hate to hear it, when dealing with dissidents, Gallop could learn a lesson from Andrew Demetriou whose in-house agitators include seasoned troublemakers such as former Victorian premier Jeff Kennett and Eddie McGuire. Demetriou might be high-handed, even arrogant in the way he dismisses critics. But he rarely seems overly defensive or buys into media-driven squabbles. He gives his knees to the groin, and hands out the occasional bouquet, behind closed doors.

To torture the Life of Brian analogy further, when rugby league fans in Sydney's western suburbs ask in 20 years, ''What has the AFL ever done for us?'', the answer should be, ''Not that much.'' Formed a second boutique franchise like the Sydney Swans, provided an alternative distraction, carved a small niche. No aqueducts or new sanitation systems.

With astute figures such as Gould coming together with Gallop and the new commission, rugby league should have repelled the enemy threat. They should have understood that, as the saying goes, ''A house divided against itself cannot stand.'' Even if that means dealing with people you cannot stand.

Of course, inevitably, the NRL's attention quickly turned to a more compelling issue than mere long-term prosperity. In that regard, perhaps there is a mutual enemy that will help unite the likes of Gould and Gallop in defence of rugby league. Misbehaving players.

Splitters.

http://www.smh.com.au/rugby-league/leag ... z1V01RbahB

[Grim Reaper]

Love this infigting in the nrl....

[Raiderdave]

Thought you might find the following amusing Grim. Death to the NRL.

An NRL divided against itself cannot stand
Richard Hinds
August 13, 2011

IT is the year 2031. At Rooty Hill Oval, an AFL game is under way. In the crowd, small groups wearing tattered rugby league jerseys watch the proceedings with barely disguised contempt.

''Bloody Victorian game,'' says Gus Gould, the leader of the People's Front of Rugby League. ''Could've kept 'em out if not for the do-nothings from Rugby League People's Front. Splitters.''

Nearby, David Gallop is huddled with his supporters. He looks at Gould and snarls. ''Huh, there's Gould and his mates from the PFRL. Where was he when they were coming across the border? Doodling on his note pad. Practically put up the AFL goal posts himself. Splitters!''

At half-time, a rugby league ball is brought to the centre of the field. AFL Grand Master Kevin Sheedy gives the ceremonial thumbs down. The ball is incinerated. The crowd roars.

Gould and Gallop look across contemptuously at a lone man with a beer, Todd Carney. ''Popular Front of Rugby League,'' they both say. ''Splitter!''

OK, the allusion to the scene from Life of Brian is excruciating. But, as some of rugby league's most influential characters go at each other's throats about how to combat the AFL's incursion into western Sydney, it is not completely far-fetched.

For a big game, the NRL is a remarkably small world. Perhaps it is a consequence of the NRL's inevitable conflicts of interest, residual bitterness from the Super League war or merely the combative nature and sizeable egos of those involved in a tough person's sport. Whatever the reason, the NRL is so riddled with petty infighting and personality-driven squabbles that Jerry Springer should have been a walk-up start for the new commission.

That a spat between rugby league ''personalities'' Ray Hadley and Andrew Voss about Voss's critical opinion of a statue of Ray Warren was considered worthy of serious discussion this week says something about the game's often incestuous and inward-looking culture. It leaves the impression that too many use rugby league as a means of self-promotion or to run personal agendas, and not enough are seriously analysing and advancing important issues. Issues upon which the game's prosperity depends.

But it was the week's more significant ''doodlegate'' stoush between new Penrith boss Phil Gould and NRL chief executive David Gallop that should be of greater concern for those harbouring concerns about the future. Regardless of the rights and wrongs of their long-standing feud, that one of the NRL's most astute and respected figures and its leading executive struggle to put aside personal differences to fight a common enemy is disturbing.

Even if Gould does not want to be the NRL's western Sydney messiah, his thoughtful and alarming report from the frontline about the speed of the AFL advance should have been embraced. Yet, even allowing for his frustration with the NRL's response to the AFL, by using his observations as a weapon in a personal argument with Gallop, Gould diminishes his authority.

Gallop feels besieged and under-appreciated. Just back from the Army Surplus store to buy a riot shield for an impending visit to Melbourne, he is pilloried for allegedly failing to mount an adequate defence. This after working hard to hold the game together in difficult times with - by AFL standards - little more than a tube of Tarzan's Grip.

Yet, as much as he would hate to hear it, when dealing with dissidents, Gallop could learn a lesson from Andrew Demetriou whose in-house agitators include seasoned troublemakers such as former Victorian premier Jeff Kennett and Eddie McGuire. Demetriou might be high-handed, even arrogant in the way he dismisses critics. But he rarely seems overly defensive or buys into media-driven squabbles. He gives his knees to the groin, and hands out the occasional bouquet, behind closed doors.

To torture the Life of Brian analogy further, when rugby league fans in Sydney's western suburbs ask in 20 years, ''What has the AFL ever done for us?'', the answer should be, ''Not that much.'' Formed a second boutique franchise like the Sydney Swans, provided an alternative distraction, carved a small niche. No aqueducts or new sanitation systems.

With astute figures such as Gould coming together with Gallop and the new commission, rugby league should have repelled the enemy threat. They should have understood that, as the saying goes, ''A house divided against itself cannot stand.'' Even if that means dealing with people you cannot stand.

Of course, inevitably, the NRL's attention quickly turned to a more compelling issue than mere long-term prosperity. In that regard, perhaps there is a mutual enemy that will help unite the likes of Gould and Gallop in defence of rugby league. Misbehaving players.

Splitters.

http://www.smh.com.au/rugby-league/leag ... z1V01RbahB

rarely seems overly defensive ...
Mr Demitripoo has his head up his date ... read below .. & if he isn't defensive now .. just wait n see
the AFL..a code in crisis with not a lot going right ATM ..

http://www.dailytelegraph.com.au/sport/ ... 6114042467

WHILE most of us have grown accustomed
to seeing the National Rugby League's woes exposed, warts and all, in the Sydney and Brisbane media every day, the AFL rarely feels the blowtorch of a genuinely critical press gallery.



Sure, there are some journalists in Melbourne who single out issues or scandals for mention, but generally Melbourne loves Melbourne, so the code has managed to foster a bulletproof mantra.

The code's senior media are schmoozed by the AFL (the AFL's media conference room is named after a senior journalist still working in the job) and the result is that many, many niggling issues have gone through to the keeper for several decades.

I do single out as exceptions The Age's Caroline Wilson and The Australian's Patrick Smith, who constantly hold Andrew Demetriou to scrutiny. The rest, however, would not pass muster in the rough and tumble of Sydney.

As a result, the AFL is in crisis, facing issues that threaten the game's livelihood.


Dwindling crowds and ratings are the start. The game's chiefs have refused to budge on its format for more than a century. An ageing demographic must be worrying for the game and sponsors so used to seeing crowds grow every year that they are too complacent for their own good.

Heaven forbid, but perhaps it might be time to look at how long an AFL game actually lasts. Four quarters that often stretch to over half an hour each may not be attractive to many young people who have grown used to instant gratification and quick fixes.

More worrying is the season of appallingly one-sided results that will ultimately see off even diehard fans who won't turn up to see their clubs flogged by more than a 100 points each weekend.

There are reasons for this, and not one of them has been genuinely addressed by the AFL in recent years. Several clubs are stony broke. Port Adelaide, North Melbourne and others are almost extinct. Even the Sydney Swans are barely at break-even.

While Demetriou threatens to seek out and destroy the dreaded rugby league enemy in western Sydney, he has opted to ignore the woes of clubs bleeding in his own backyard. They have no hope of ever competing with juggernauts like Collingwood or Carlton and dwindling chances of staying alive beyond the next few seasons.

Demetriou has blindly surged towards his grand expansion strategy, citing rubbery participation figures and allegedly surging interest in the code in new markets.

Millions have been squandered on these clubs, with concessions granted that are not offered to any of the haemorrhaging teams in Melbourne or Adelaide.

Player talent has been spread too thin and the results are there for all to see with winning margins that are starting to smell of the one-sided nature of the English Premier League.

Even if Demetriou decided to hand the basket case clubs a financial lifeline, they would struggle to do much more than pay off debt. North Melbourne, for example, is hardly going to attract $6 million worth of sponsors just because it is debt free.

The AFL's concentration of clubs in Melbourne was never addressed adequately when the first wave of expansion into other markets began. Not enough clubs were forced to merge and a blind eye was turned as these teams started to struggle to attract crowds.

These problems are more than 10 years old, but the AFL has glossed over them with smoke-and-mirrors trickery that has trumpeted up the expansion strategy and the value of the code's strong "traditions".

It worked in that it attracted a $1 billion television deal. The trouble will come when the networks no longer get bang for their buck with terrible games between teams with few stars, in front of small crowds who will barely provide enough cash to pay for the guernseys.

Rumblings from television executives have started.

There is no value for them when a game is over by quarter time, and played by at least one team without a chance of winning a flag in the next 20 years.

Demetrious's arrogance is gobsmacking. He told Melbourne media yesterday that it must be a slow news week when one-sided results attracted anyone's attention. No, Andrew, it is not a slow news week. It was a week when the real stuff was addressed by those who know better than you.

Whether the Melbourne media is up for it remains to be seen, but the blowtorch has finally been lit. The fortress known as the AFL is no longer impenetrable, but is now standing on shaky ground.

[Beaussie]

Rebecca Wilson... enough said.

[Truthsayer]

It was an appallingly poorly researched article.

[Raiderdave]

It was an appallingly poorly researched article.

it was a dose of the truth

well done Bec .... well done =D>

[Beaussie]

Hang on, I thought you lot hated Rebecca Wilson? Always apparently making up shit about Rugby League isn't she? Hmm, yet here you want us to take her seriously. Whatever...

[Grim Reaper]

Think she has had one too many bourbouns....

[Raiderdave]

Hang on, I thought you lot hated Rebecca Wilson? Always apparently making up **** about Rugby League isn't she? Hmm, yet here you want us to take her seriously. Whatever...

on this occasion she is right on the coin

[AFL Warrior]

You know Rebecca Wilson is actually a bloke?

[Truthsayer]

When did she have the operation, Mr Warrior?