Why are you like this?
As the only person in my tipping comp silly enough to tip the Raiders over the Broncos, the Parramatta Eels just saved me the indignity of being the only person to not tip a perfect round this week.
What a pack of losers.
Not just the 17 losers that went out there against the Bulldogs tonight. Every single player, official, coach, sponsor and fan over the last 35 years is a loser. This was probably the most embarrassing loss any team has taken in the NRL era, and the only thing more disappointing than supporting the team that suffered it was the predictability of it all.
You tell ten thousand NRL fans that the last placed Bulldogs beat a top 8 team by 30, and the only ones that don’t pick Parramatta as the team they beat probably lied about being an NRL fan to get into the survey in the first place. I’m not going and looking at it, but I’d say there are a dozen Eels fans telling me “I told you so” in the comments of the preview because I dared to believe that this stupid team could put 35 years of being losers behind them and go out and do what was expected of them for once.
My son is three years old, and this week he caught and passed a footy for the first time. His catching form makes Clint Gutherson under a high ball look comfortable, but most of the time his alligator arms snag the plush little footy and he giggles away, blissfully unaware he has just equalled the last three decades’ achievements of the team his dad has wasted his life supporting. If I follow this through and initiate him as an Eels fan right now, I should be locked away for child abuse. I’m not the only one apologising to the next generation right now:
As somebody who was born into supporting this rabble, I fully agree with Mary’s sentiments here:
The Eels need to go on a Dragons-like run of premierships to even the emotional ledger with me. I’ve sat through so many heartbreaking losses, so many shithouse performances against bad teams, meek finals exits and then the indignity of a salary cap scandal that resulted in a couple of wooden spoons and signing Lee Mossop. He was the smart one for getting over here, taking one look at the place and bailing. Ricky Stuart got out as quick as he could, and was probably doing us a favour by sacking half the squad on his way out the door.
I have one mate who got out. We spent the late 90s as teens on the “Booze Hill” with Parra Jesus and co. having a grand old time, and went to the 2001 grand final together full of excitement. I joined him in storming out once the score hit 28-6, we got separated and I think he had to call his mum to pick him up from Parramatta Station. My mum didn’t answer my call so I walked an hour home from the closest bus stop, then had to break in through a window because I didn’t have my keys.
It was the last game of football he went to. He just couldn’t do it. “Why subject yourself to that misery?” he asked. I’ve called him soft and disloyal for all these years, but dammit if he wasn’t the smart one for cutting bait at the first sign of pain. Here I am over 20 years later, going through the same thing for no reward, again and again.
The Parramatta Eels are a net negative in my life by a long way. They cost me a bloody fortune in money, time, emotion and energy, and while I’ll undoubtedly talk a big game here then keep lining up in the stands again and again, I’ll be damned if I’m spending a second more of my long weekend than I have to recapping this piss weak, pathetic effort. I’m certainly not going to bring a sweet, innocent child, to whom football represents nothing but fun and joy, into supporting this pathetic rabble.
I hate this team, and I hate supporting this team. Yet I’ll be back next week, because that’s what us losers do.
Oh, I still need to give some grades? Okay, here we go. Every coach, player, fan, official, groundsman and person who just happened to wear blue with gold today while remaining blissfully unaware of a football game, you all get an:
Let it never be said again that TCT doesn’t grade the coach. Until next time, stay slippery, losers.