R1

I know we're only one round in, but something feels better already this year.

A win? Better tips? Better footy? The sense the Bomber issue is finally behind us? The Hawks getting beaten?

I have a friend called Mark, who often introduces a Big Footy Statement with "I'm not a smart man Rich, but..." and then makes an observation that, indeed, often reinforces that point. Well, I've just got Foxtel (don't get me started, it's shizenhausen, but having no telly reception in the house we've just been forceably resettled into I was desperate), the Smart Men on the telly with the sheets of paper with the numbers on them assure me that, yes, the footy IS better this year. Quicker, more open, more offensive. And by more offensive, of course I mean less offensive, more attractive to watch, if you know what I mean.

It's a small sample, but bring it on. After all if we'd wanted to watch something as dull as Rugby League we'd all have been born in Sinny or Brisvegas, and would probably be stimulating an Alsatian right now.

And so to the PunchDrunk news:

37 Drunks seem to have turned up to work this year. That's two off and one on. Corey, after several seasons of giving it a nudge without knocking it over, has decided putting a tip into a computer once a week is more onerous than his schedule can bear this year. We hope to see him back soon. And young Nick, who dropped off the perch around May last season hasn't re-surfaced and seems to be chasing greener pastures elsewhere. 

Our new fella this year, young Sam, is another second generation Drunk, and I believe a rabid Demon to boot. Welcome young man, we wish you and your team of very handsome and sporty Demons all the best.

And so to the Round 1 ladder.

Look who's back on top...
 Lex, after letting someone else have a go and win it last year, is back for more. And that 'someone else', Coxy, sitting in third. 

But it's early days, and I, for one, am not about to let anyone else win it this year but me, and I'm sure you all feel exactly the same way.

See you at PUNCHDRINK #1, April 14.

drunk again

We're just days away from the 28th season of PunchDrunk action.

It's Easter, the perfect time to resurrect a game sorely in need of a heart transplant and a little mouth-to-mouth. We've suffered several seasons of the ill-effects of performance-enhancement, free-agency, deaths in the footy family and a few fairly strong doses of basic ineptitude, on and off the turf. Surely NOW IS THE TIME to bounce back, take the bull by the horns, dust off the fruit on the sideboard and kick some goals.

Surely this is the season we can rediscover our lost love for this faded rose of a game, this once near-perfect of all sports. I'm up for it. Come, take my hand and let's walk this walk together.

As the Dalai Lama once said to me: "Remember Dick, we're in this for the eternal glory, not the monetary gain. Oh yes, money will get you so far, but a win against the filth or the scum is equal to several lifetimes of nirvana... Oh, and I'll have a pint of Yak and some salt and vinegar chips if you're going up." He's such a calm and quiet man he never shouts even when it's his turn.

So gird your loins and hoist your main-sail, we're heading into sharky waters in a very leaky boat. I'm a little scared, but very excited. Hope you are too.