"If a tree falls in the forest..." Season 2020

If a tree falls in the forest...

The good people responsible for the collected ramblings of the species called Wikipedia, refer to this well-worn path through the undergrowth of perception as, a philosophical thought experiment that raises questions about observation and perception. Which, as we may or may not, head into Season 2020 (our 32nd on the trot), leads me to share one of my own with you.

Observation: The world has gone mad. If you're interested in an in-depth take on how and why this shit is playing out as it is in Oz right now, this is a good place to start. http://bit.ly/2TWA7Ve

Unless you've been hiding under a mountain of stockpiled toilet paper, you've already heard the AFL's plans for kicking off the season. As it currently stands it's Thursday night, MCG, Tiges & Blues, 44 players, 100 odd support staff, assembled TV hangers-on and 0 (zero) odd supporters. It makes me wonder who many will be there on the night, and will that constitute a gathering of more than 500?

Perception: Have they totally lost the plot?

Before you accuse me of my usual left-wing ranty pants ramblings that completely ignores the commercial realities of the football industry, let me just say this. Have they totally lost the plot?

Surely there is another way. A way that acknowledges the simple fact that the game only exists because of the fans. A way that doesn't so obviously reduce our place in the football industry to consumers who will continue to buy the product, even when it's clear it's now played to serve forces bigger than the fans.

I know there are 1001 arguments for and against this course of action. And yes of course, you can't expose 80,000 people to the possible effects of this virus, I'm not for a moment suggesting that. But I just wonder this. Might the AFL chosen a different path? A path that involved canvassing the opinions of Club members and the footy loving public and giving them a range of options to think over and perhaps even vote on?

In their rush to take decisive action and provide strong leadership they may have reinforced the perception that we who exist outside the football bubble are surplus to requirements. Throw into the mix the undeniable evidence of your own eyes that the game has become close to unwatchable, and I think the unthinkable becomes plausible...if a tree falls in the forest...  

Discuss.

House keeping

As Dickie boy mentioned in a recent email, some of you are yet to pay dues for last season. Please make good on this before your God strikes you down.

As to dues for this year, I suggest we hold off on paying until we get a better of idea of how this will play out. Heaven forbid, we may even consider this year as our application for amateur status and tip just for the glory of the Cup. More on that when we know more on that. I might even consult you good people and give you some options to vote on... who'd thunk it.

Our first Drunk drink

Happy to take suggestions on possible locations, and then make a arbitrary decision based on what's good for the executive team. Presuming off course we are allowed to gather in groups as large as 10.
Send through your thoughts.

All hail the Dick

We've all been wanting to say it, so I did just so you didn't think I was anything other that totally juvenile. It was round about this time, a long time ago, when I got a phone call from him, wondering what was going on with Punchdrunk for Season 2004. How the hell should I know, or care, I'm in Rome snorting Chianti off a Margherita, I responded. It's been his baby ever since and he's provided fatherly love, guidance and financial support as it grew from preening adolescence to corpulent middle age. So it's only fitting that as one of the fittest late 50's men I know, he has seen fit to change the locks. And so it falls to me to make ready the spare room where it can live out it's daze.

Be kind, I'm new here.

Keep punching.

SEASON 2019 - Another year put in a box and buried deep

Perspective is all important in footy as it is in most things.
From where I've been sitting, this past 28 weeks of footy has been excruciating, nigh on unwatchable and fittingly finished off by probably the worst Grand Final in living memory. Thank god it is done and gone, chucked out with the trash. Let's bury it deep, let's not talk about it again.

My list of personal gripes goes beyond the fact I support the most lily-livered and irreparably broken club on this sporting globe. Although that certainly doesn't help. I find myself falling painfully out of love with the game. I look at my former flame and see now only blemishes, imperfections, really annoying habits, inconsistencies and innumerable unpleasant character traits. Lets start with revised and even less consistent rule interpretations and finish with a fork-tongued AFL propaganda machine and throw Razor Ray, James Brayshaw's inanities and the MRP among other annoyances somewhere in the middle for good measure.

Lets try to look beyond the unpleasantnesses now, however, and look at the joy that some lucky Drunks experienced this year:

It's hard to go past Jim "Richo" Richardson's PunchDrunk World Championship win.

Franco Schena lead for the first 11 rounds, but once Jim caught him in Round 12 he was never headed. Leading by one to Phil, Lee and Juzzy G, until it was pointed out we were heading to one of the closest finishes in Drunk History with only 2 rounds to go. Richo's response was remove his digit and leap to a 4 game lead, completely deflating the blip of excitement that was just starting to captivate each and every Drunk's every waking moment.
Congrats Richo! $1,000 in the hand for you my boy.

Then to Phil, of the Smith variety. 

Phil came in at second for the second year running, following a third the previous year. You'd think this incremental improvement would have him in pole position for season 2020. Until you remember he's a Demons supporter. I'm predicting a bottom 3 finish next year. Just above Penske and Panther. Congrats Phil. $500 is yours.

And lastly Kapt'n Kurtz.

Kurtz rose while others fell around him. Not quite Stephen Bradbury, but a well-timed surge when Phil, Lee and Juzzy couldn't find the gas pedal with those 2 rounds to go. That's 2,500 cents to you my friend.

PunchDrunk Granny

Curts and Phil faced-off for the secondary PD Award, the invisible Grand Final trophy, with Curts guessing correctly the Richmond would pull it off, while Phil may have inflated the hopes of his home-town neighbours to the west just a tad. $100 to Curts, $60 to Phil.

Tiges

And lastly to those (many) Tigers in our midst, Dirk, Brenna, Coxy, Dickwad and Juzzy G. I hope you're happy. You've had your go, now move along please and and let someone else have a go.

And finally, it's good night from me but it's not good night from him.

15 years ago Stavros Hurley went to Rome. He'd been running the Drunk since 1989 and he needed a large carafe of Valpolicella. I sensed his joie de vivre in being Drunk administrator was becoming threadbare, and when he wasn't back 2 days prior to the 2004 season I feared he may be living in a shepherd's hut on the slopes of remote Sicilian volcano and may never return. I did what I felt needed to be done, lest this finest of sporting traditions die with him in a flood of hot lava. I rallied the Drunk troops and kept this bastard alive by whatever means I could.

And now it's my own sporting pulse that grows weak. My thrill that's gone. My Elvis that's left the building. It's me who needs that Valpolicella now, maybe even a Negroamaro. Maybe one of each

Stavros is revitalised, sober and here. More importantly he's ready, willing and so able it's almost embarrassing. It's time for me to hand back the mantle to a (slightly) older man/woman who knows what he/she's doing and wants to do it. That man/woman is Stavros.

So thanks to all of you who rode through my early cringingly self-indulgent enthusiastic early days, and my latter bloody lazy days full of sour rants and regular negativity. Thanks for coming for drinks when summoned, and thanks for talking footy-shit with me and your other Drunks on a semi-regular basis.

Arise Sir Stephen.

PunchDrunk 2019 GRAND FINAL.

This is where it all ended:

And the tracks of our tears:

PunchDrunk Finals 2019. Week 3.

PunchDrunk Finals 2019. Week 2.

PunchDrunk Finals 2019. Week 1.