Five From Five

This week, the sole response from the 25 to 29 group came from the lovely and diligent Ms Sally. Introducing ...

Sal.

Childhood:
Growing up in Sydney's eastern suburbs I was lead to believe that Rugby (by which I mean union, for those who were taught that there was any other kind) was the 'true' football. My father (who was once described by the Sydney Morning Herald sports reporter as Sydney University's 'colourful bearded winger') and brother and every boy I knew at high school played it, at my country university too. Australian Rules was something laughable. Silly haircuts, too-tight shorts.

Leaving home:
Perth, late 90's: no-one laughs at AFL. I was required to decide between two teams. Being Australian I went for the underdog Dockers.
Early '00's Adelaide: I realise not just WA that takes AFL seriously. I make friends who will explain the rules and I start to love spectating (as long as I avoid North Melbourne games cos Wayne Carey makes my skin crawl). I also discover that my grandfather dragged my mother all around the Riverina as a child following the Deniliquin AFL side. He was a staunch Swans supporter having previously played with South Melbourne in his early days. So I became a Swans supporter. It's in the blood.

Adulthood:
South of the Border: In Melbourne being able to talk footy means you can talk to anyone. Even those who hate it will discuss how much they hate it, in informed and often passionate terms. Besides, about half of all media down there is about football, or related to football. If I hadn't loved AFL those seven years within spitting distance of "The 'G" would have been an eternity. 

Parenthood:
Mid 00's I find myself the sole parent to a child who was born for balls and wheels. I am forced out of my armchair view of football and learn to drop punt with enthusiasm and handball with accuracy. I am tested on who footballers are and who they play for and get eyes rolled at me (frequently) when I am wrong. I bring my Tiger Cub to live in Swan territory and find that AFL is no longer such a laughing matter.

Tipping:
For me footy is about the heart, not the head. I tip with my gut. The last couple of years my gut has not come up with the goods (maybe there is a little too much of it these days...)
My rule is that once I tip, i don't change it, not matter how much I want to. I would rather get the tip wrong, than get it wrong and know that i had it right the first time. And I frequently tip against my own team, knowing that when I'm depressed that they have lost, at least I get my tip right. If they win, who cares about tipping?
I would love to win, sure, but I've been at the top of the ladder and it is stressfully precarious up there. There is something comforting about the bottom, you can tip big and know there is really only one way you can go. And it means that when Tiger Lucas bemoans how badly HE is doing, he can't do it too loudly or for too long!

From the Album

Tony of J@TS sent me these superb pictures from the Jardin de Luxembourg last night. Illustrative or contrary?

Five from Five

It seems Nigel has found the winning formula. This morning I am delighted to introduce you to two of the long term O'Reilly boys, James and Ian/Max. 

JAMES

Footy
First encounter Melbourne 1973. Sadly (not sad at the time) the year South Melbourne won the wooden spoon. Wanting to back a winner I supported Carlton. They lost the Grand Final to Richmond that year, which I attended. Along with about 110,000 others (the days of standing room). It was the grand days of Alex Jesaulenko, John Nickols, Geoff Southby, Sergio Silvagni, Robert Walls, Bruce Doull... My support then shifted to Geelong as I shifted to school there but there was little to cheer and few players to remember.  I played in various positions for Geelong Grammar School 1st XVIII alongside David Cordner, who actually went on to play a few unremarkable games for the Swans in 1988. (Just after their glory years of 86 & 87)  I played for Robb College in Armidale and for New England in the NSW Country Championships of 1982 before going on to play for Lismore in the Gold Coast League in 1983. Can safely say was never in danger of being recruited, but loved the game. My nickname, which I'm not proud of, was Knuckles. Ironic of course. Traveling to Europe in 1984 spelled the end of my playing days, retiring aged 21.

Life
The journey in geographical terms: Banz, Papua New Guinea, Melbourne, Geelong, Armidale (NSW), Byron Bay, London, Interlaken (Switzerland), Saalbach (Austria),  Hydra (Greece), Sydney, Bruny Island (Tasmania), Sydney. Now married to the remarkable Lisa Matthews. Two children, named after the places they were conceived: Byron 8, Chloe 6  (Chloe - Clovelly, sort of. There were too many Brontes. There is a fair chance Byron was  conceived in Woy Woy, but couldn't persuade Lisa)

Work
Film and Garden maker.

Hobbies/Interests
Other than cinema and gardening - bushwalking, wilderness photography, cooking, periods in Australian & PNG history.

5 and a Half Favourite players
Michael O'Loughlin, Paul Kelly, Wayne Schwass, Paul Roos, Adam Goodes ... and the half for Byron Middleton, currently Under 9s for the Eastern Suburbs Bullodgs.



IAN/MAX

Footy
A late in life convert, despite having lived on Punt Rd more or less opposite the G in the late 1980s, and all-too-frequently being assailed by Tigers players recruiting members on Swan St. Managed only one visit to VFL Park for a Pies-Hawks clash in 1989. Recruited to the Swans by Dylan Gower and Patrick Nolan in 1999. First game was v Port, round 1 that year: also A. Goodes' debut. Missed one season (2009), partly in disgust at Barry Hall's strike on Brent Staker in 2008,  and partly because of what the Tip Mistress referred to as the 'mouldiness' of the Swans' game plan at the time: stoppage footy at a time when Geelong were rewriting the rules with play on footy. For the record, Hall's captaincy of the 2005 GF team still rankles with me. He shouldn't have been playing.

Life
Married with two daughters (Mia, 8, and Zoe, 4) and a hellish mortgage. Just celebrated tenth wedding anniversary, marked by the emergency removal of my wife, Vanessa's, gallbladder. A night to remember. Converted to Greek Orthodoxy for marriage ('My Big Fat Greek Wedding' is, I assure you all, social realism, not a comedy). I plan on retiring to the Peloponnese with a boat and Foxtel Footy (somehow). And the family. All of them.

Work
Ensconced deep within the ivory towers of a sandstone university, and about to embark upon 12 months of leave. For the past two years a management flunky, I look forward to returning to the less stressful life of a researcher and writer.

Hobbies
I love to sail, particularly on high performance off-shore yachts, but am finding it harder and harder to commit to the long hours required to be of any use on board. The family and a large garden keep me busy on weekends. Am learning guitar with the eight year old, and spend a great deal of time reading.

Players
All time: Wayne Carey. Astounding watching him own the half acre around half forward. He seemed to tower over everyone, projecting an uncanny forcefield. I adore the story a footy-loving friend told me: that Carey loved and lived football so much that he would sing, sotto voce, every opponent's team song when it was played before games. From here it's all Swans . . .
Recent past: I always had a soft spot for Jared Crouch, not least because of the career-long martyrdom involved in his commitment to tagging (viz Akermanis) and grinding stoppage football. His delight in ever getting a kick--usually a wobbly mongrel punt from a scrap on the half back flank collected by the opposing centre half back and precipitating a rebound into 50--was palpable. Tagdh Keneally was amazing, too.
Present. Lewis Jetta is turning into something very special, as are Hannebery and Luke Parker
Debut 2011. Alex Johnson
Future: Jed Lamb

Five from Five

Well, it's 10 points this week for Nigel/Lanternz who was the only Tipster from 18 to 22 to send his profile our way. And what a beauty it is. Meet ...

NIGEL/Lanternz

1. Footy. Living 5 minutes from Glenferrie Oval I became a Hawks supporter in the days of Parkin, Hudson, Lethal Leigh etc. Moved to Adelaide pre AFL and lost interest due to SANFL. Joined Swans early 90's committed to the mission to convert the heathens of Sydney to the one true religion.

2. Life. Serial monogamist, married late in life to a Russian ballerina, now with two boys 11 and 7. Living in rural splendour in the Adelaide Hills.

3. Work. Theatre lighting designer mostly specialising in opera. Working nationally and internationally. The Backpocket's only Tony Award winner.

4. Hobbies. Work and making a very nice Pinot Noir mostly from D5v12 clone grown at my place and made by me in very traditional manner - crushed, de-stemmed, 10% whole bunch,minimal stalk contact, cold soaked, seeded, hot ferment, plunged,pumped and pressed when dry into French Oak, matured on gross lees, low sulphured, racked and home bottled with Diam corks, no fining. Horse might like to use this process with the rookies next year.

5. 5 Favourite players. All time - Paul Kelly. Recent past - Leapin' Leo. Current - Hannebery. Debut 2011 - Alex Johnson. Future - Anton Levings (Carey Gully Swans, aged 7, debut expected 2024).

RESULTS - Round 5

Round 5 - ah, an excellent round. For some. Especially the red and white of us. No matter what your tipping score this week, you have to love that Bloods display of milestone R E S P E C T.

On the tipping ladder this week ... Patrick has resumed the throne. He's been on the tele and the radio all week. Do you think it has something to do with leading the Backpocket? Naturally he's become impossible to live with.

2009 champion, Sharolyn, moved into the Top 5 this week while the J@TS dropped out. Byron Middleton continued his meteoric rise, climbing a further 10 places this week, into the Top 10. Dad, James, is keeping an eye on him from 10th.

Gary may have dropped 2 places overall this week, but he was the only Tipster to have equaled his Round placing - coming 15th in both Rounds 4 and 5. Now there's a mini challenge for those who already feel out of contention.

And while we're on contention, Mark sent me a little email during the week; some very interesting food for thought and/or debate.

'You can't win a tipping comp in the first five weeks. But you can lose it. Is it going out too hard to say that with the 2 point break between the 37s and 35s, that the winner is already in the 37 and over category?'

ROUND 4 - A Role To Play

I have always found voting an oddly stirring experience. Possibly because it is one of those intermittent events that binds us as individuals to something bigger – reminds us that we have the privilege and responsibility to gather ourselves to decide whose umbrella we will open over our collective heads.

Last Sunday I voted in the French Presidential election. After testing the temperature during a visit last year, and keeping an ear to the ground ever since, I found myself cramming the week before the ballot. Voting is non-compulsory, but I spent my bus trips sifting through campaign brochures, sorting the candidates into left and right, possible and absurd and staring hopelessly at the pages of the two central prongs.

I have never lived permanently in France, and it is strange to vote from afar. Without being ‘on the ground’, living with the direct outcomes of government, one is, in effect, voting purely for an ideology. But I was determined to contribute, as a way of expressing my frequent longing for my Frenchness, as a way of making sure that I too could still take shelter under their umbrella.

On Sunday morning the Cygnet accompanied me as we mounted the tower of the French Consul in Sydney’s city centre. Yes we were sure we were required to vote at this location, yes we had received our little paper squares from France, yes we would follow the white arrows around the consular corridor (the French love a bit of procedural complication!) Voting consists of being identified on an electoral roll and then cocooning oneself in a curtained isolation booth, sifting through ten names on ten ballots of butcher’s paper and folding your chosen one into an exquisite blue envelope, perfectly inscribed with a cursive République Française.

Emerging, you join another queue to approach the ballot box, which is guarded by a handsome, tanned man in a perfectly pressed shirt and silk tie. He takes your passport, calls your name to a woman manning a second electoral roll, who confirms again that you are who your passport says you are – at which point the gentleman opens the slot to the box and you may cast your vote. ‘À voter!’ he calls ceremoniously. You have been counted.

*

There are things I often long for from my other culture, that extend beyond good table red and cheese: the stamina for long, heated discourse; the insistence on aesthetics; the slightly inbred obsession with ‘specialitiés’. But until October last year, I had not fully come to recognise my great penchant for something else French – the formality of civic togetherness.

Most public spaces, in Paris at least, are arranged in such a way as to invite and prohibit at the same time. They are designed to bring people together and also keep them apart. You may walk along the alleys, but not sit on the grass. There is a side of me that finds great honesty in this kind of spatial structure; it seems to account for the complexity of coexistence.

I have rarely felt so personally integrated as on an unseasonably warm Sunday when the Cygnet, his Dad and I sat around the great fountain in the Jardin de Luxembourg in Paris.  There we perched among the Parisians, in all their guises, each of us occupying a single wrought iron chair which we had arranged in random arcs, facing and not facing each other, reading or snoozing or eating, absorbed in ourselves but subconsciously needing one another. The peculiar benefit of this kind of structured togetherness is that one can experience collective belonging in a way which utterly respects, preserves and even requires one’s aloneness.

*

Australians are not renown for being comfortable with standing apart. As a nation, we find all manner of ways and days to emphasise a collective character and bat down the notion of people going it alone.

The twenty first century Sydney Swans have been good citizens in that respect. I joined the club in 2000 and have been raised on the mantra of the Bloods – that success comes from the collective will – Brett Kirk’s Holdens over Chris Judd’s Lamborghinis – the old argument about the team of champions or the champion team. At every chance the modern day player reminds us that they are there simply to ‘play their role.’

Last Sunday I left the voting booth for the SCG, where we assembled ourselves up in the O’Reilly. Below us to the left, the Roos supporters were sorting themselves into an opposition camp. As we waited for the siren, I watched the two teams sprint the opposing wings and their jerseys melted into an arrangement of bleu, blanc, rouge.

The game was played within the discipline and efficacy of team structure, four quarters of one-on-one contests, most of them lasting the match, some of them truly enticing: Shaw on Harvey, Bird on Wells, Richards on Petrie. And as I sat and observed the nature of the match, what I really saw was how similar a footy team is to a French public park. Because, scripts aside, the ‘team role’ is, in fact, the individual contest. As diligently as players arrange themselves in a structure of togetherness, they take up their positions alone with their capacity. And part of the anticipation and wonder of each match is which individual will shine, who will win his contest, who will break the lines. 

On Sunday night, the candidate of choice came on a ballot paper marked JETTA.

All of his goals were unlikely and superb. The first a case of pace taking him to the ball first and stride allowing him to kick it before it went over. The second a grab on the wing in space, a ball sent long and returned by hand and a goal from inside the pocket. The third a pick up from an opposition fumble and a snap from just inside 50. It was a casual display of what commentators mean when they say that a team needs ‘someone to impose themselves.’ Sometimes what’s best for the stability of the umbrella is for everyone to acknowledge that it’s ok to let someone out to do what they alone can do.

*

It is possible, even probable, that Nicolas Sarkozy will become the first French President since 1958 to lose the office after a single term. His campaign for ‘La France Forte’ (A Strong France) preaches that prosperity, security and wellbeing come from strength and that strength comes only from unquestioned unity.

Surely the success of any community, especially a nation, is its ability to manage the tension between belonging and standing apart. After all, the truly successful team has always proven itself as both a champion team and a team of champions.

RESULTS - Round 4

We have a new leader after Round. Bravo to Shaar on a superb 8 which took her to the top of the ladder. There was mostly shuffling inside the Top 10 this week.

George and Justine continued their steady approaches. Definitely going 'under the radar'. There were mixed fortunes for the Melbourne contingent: the star crossed lovers and Paul climbed 3 places each, but Melissa and Syd dropped 4 and 6 respectively. The cellar dwellers are finding it hard to make up ground. Sally swears she's keeping out of son Lucas' way in 27th!

The big mover was Byron Middleton who jumped a huge 7 places into 19th. And below him, Miro, Richard and Nigel are also on the up. With that in mind, the Tip Mistress would like to invite ladder position holders 18 to 22 to contribute to Five from Five. Ian, Byron, Miro, Richard and Nigel - tell us about yourselves!

Get Five from Top Five

Here are the profiles of this week's top 5. What an incentive to aim high.

* * * 

PATRICK

I'm concerned that this 'Top 5' is encouraging a certain elitism... why don't we want to know about the 'Bottom 5'? Far be it for me to complain, I should get my answers out quick smart for if the past however many years we've been doing this is anything to go by I'll be hovering around the lower depths for most of the season. With this in mind:

1. As above suggests, I am a caring egalitarian, who however has deep admiration for virtuosity and skills that take a life (and a certain amount of natural talent) to perfect.

2. I wonder if it is ever possible for a human to be perfect.

3. While I once sat in awe looking at Sylvie Guillem, a dancer of phenomenal precision, I was ultimately left cold. I am far more attracted to people who are deeply imperfect.

4. That said, I feel very privileged to have been a fan of the Swans for Adam Goodes' entire playing career. There have been many moments over the course of this time in which I have marvelled at his godlike talent.

5. There have also been many moments when I have dreaded the fact that he is the one standing in front of goal holding the ball. I love Adam Goodes because for all his genius, there have been many occasions when he has presented himself as profoundly human. I sometimes wonder how good a tipper Adam Goodes is.

MATHILDE

1. My favourite position is the half back flanker, the architect of the game who can zone off his direct opponent, break the lines and turn defence into attack. I grew up on Gavin Wanganeen.

2. I prefer brunettes. Or darker ...

3. My favourite place in Sydney is Mahon Pool, Maroubra.

4. I’d like to live in Paris, in a Marais flat with original floorboards, ceiling high windows, an Abyssinian cat and a Tanis desk by Pierre Paulin.

5. If I were not a footy loving human, I’d be a Moomin in Finland. 

SHAAR

1.  I’m an avid Swans member and fan.
2.  My happiest footy moment was being at the MCG cheering the Swans to victory in the 2005 Grand Final.
3.  Barking Dog (Gary) and Minnamurra (Cath) are my Dad and Stepmum.
4.  In 2012, I’m loving being able to watch 4 live games per round on free to air TV.

MARK 

1. I live next door to Ted Richards.  He plays for the Swans.
2. All of Ted's friends have smooth skin and firm young bodies.  They are exceptionally affable; and the apartment is noiseless.
3. Last summer Ted let me have his newspaper when he was on holiday.  Unfortunately I was away, too.
4. At Christmas Ted went home to Melbourne, and caught a cab to the airport with Adam Goodes.  
5. This I saw with my own eyes. 

JaTS

1. The JaTS, originally J@TS (I wanted funky late-90s digital cred), are founding tippers and current Backpocket runnersup. 

2. We're also the Backpocket's only father-son team (are we?); combining Joe's erratic genius and my (Tony's) plodding conservatism. 

3. We're couch-based Swans supporters and despite Mathilde's frequent prodding and living only a fine torp from the SCG we're rarely at the footy. 

4. Although, deep deep down I'm a Saints boy - drawn from my early formative years living in Melbourne (Boroondara Park Primary) in 1966/67. Who else would an impressionable 6 year old adopt as his team?
5. Our tipping tip: mind your margins. They're the difference between winning and losing.

* * * 

Defence is the Best Medecine

Before the ink has dried on the Mistress' words below, the Tiger has scribbled his diary! (OK, I did omit a rather large happening ... )

16 April 2012
The Way I Bloody Well See It

Round 3 coughed up a few surprises, not the least the victory to the mighty Shinboners on Sunday evening.
Granted. Mighty is really a bit nostalgic, but who is this tiger kidding about the N word. Punt Rd has been known for some time as Nostalgics are Us.
A great day for Jack; misery for Lyndon.
Jack Riewoldt reallly had a pretty bloody moderate outing against the Dees.
Lynden Dunn can't be blamed for anything from the bench!
A tense Saturday night for Syd as the Bombers almost handed the Suns a rare victory.
And the interesting point is....
And there's been no word from the Collingwood/Carlton home down in Melbourne. More urgent than the well-being of their relationship, the clash was no good for Romeo and Juliet's ladder position.
We want to know who they tipped!
Stuff 'em. Who cares. The Devil has always worn two jerseys/guernseys. 
For us tipsters, a new Champ has risen to the throne. Patrick finds himself at the top for the very first time in 6 years of tipping, sending John a whopping 10 places down the ladder.
'A testament to perseverance' he calls it. Patrick and I now consider ourselves the Posh and Becks of the Backpocket. The Brad and Angelina. The Will and Kate.
I'm kind enough to say you are selling yourselves far too short dear lofty couple. These roosters and cultured pearls are contributing only to pop culture. You two are the bifidus and acidophillus of true sustaining and sustainable culture Dear Ones.
The big movers this week were Gai and David and the Barking Dog Gary with 6 rungs apiece. James, Justine and Cath rose 7. Patrick's already feeling paranoid up there and thinks 'Justine, a newcomer and unknown quantity, could be a smokey!'
Perhaps another big mover this week was The Richmond Tigers. Oh dear, somehow we've surged above Collingwood with just this lowly win against The Demons.
And at the end of Round 3, Carlton are the Premiers; Eddie Betts takes the Norm Smith, and Kennedy Josh (Sydney) the Brownlow.
At the business end of the season it's more likely we see the Pentridge Blues rueing something stupid, Eddie Betts rueing something stupid and Trent Cochin stepping up on the night of nights.

RESULTS - Round 3

Round 3 coughed up a few surprises, not the least the victory to the mighty Shinboners on Sunday evening. A great day for Jack; misery for Lyndon. A tense Saturday night for Syd as the Bombers almost handed the Suns a rare victory. And there's been no word from the Collingwood/Carlton home down in Melbourne. More urgent than the well-being of their relationship, the clash was no good for Romeo and Juliet's ladder position.  We want to know who they tipped!

For us tipsters, a new Champ has risen to the throne. Patrick finds himself at the top for the very first time in 6 years of tipping, sending John a whopping 10 places down the ladder. 'A testament to perseverance' he calls it. Patrick and I now consider ourselves the Posh and Becks of the Backpocket. The Brad and Angelina. The Will and Kate.

The big movers this week were Gai and David and the Barking Dog Gary with 6 rungs apiece. James, Justine and Cath rose 7. Patrick's already feeling paranoid up there and thinks 'Justine, a newcomer and unknown quantity, could be a smokey!'

And at the end of Round 3, Carlton are the Premiers; Eddie Betts takes the Norm Smith, and Kennedy Josh (Sydney) the Brownlow.