After Grog Blog

SOY BOY

Seen here, a very funny cut at the fifteen channels available on hospital TV ...

13 – Clock Channel
It is now 9:59am. Coming up on the Clock Channel: 10 o'clock.

And a description of a stomach ache ...

The pain is like a stabbing knife, unbearable, like Hilary Duff covering "Our Lips Are Sealed."

A friendly heads-up though. NM is an unambiguous member of an oft-times denigrated minority group reknowned for it's flamboyant colours, accentuated gestures and the use of words such as "swish". That's right, he's a comic book collector. Not that there's ... err ... there's anything ... umm ... wrong with that. Umm ... err ... some of my best friends are ... umm ... comic book collectors.

Anyhoo, like I said, it's funny there. Just don't mention I sent you.

ADAMS BALE

Tuesday as I trudged through Adams' latest slush -- Good work by CL and Hitch -- I figured you could probably make the same style of claim about the Holocaust. Then I thought "David Irving did".

Yet only 5000 corpses have been uncovered. Yes, that's 5000 too many, but 395,000 short of Blair's body count. Of course, the other 395,000 might turn up, like those missing weapons. But to say that they've already been discovered is just the latest in the litany of lies.

POLL-Y-GRAPH

I'm reminded of that old chestnut ...

Q: "Are you a liar?"

A: "Yes. I am a liar."

PS: 23 calls?!?

ALL KINDS OF WONG

It's just not right. Nakedly ambitious Hong Kong job seekers are being deprived of worthwhile career opportunities ...

Jobs blow for sex stars

A PORNO film maker has been banned from recruiting sex stars at a job fair.

The two-day event had been open just 90 minutes when embarrassed organisers decided that acting in pornographic movies was not a career route they wished to promote.

Sun Power Production Co had been seeking "passionate: porn stars" at the Hong Kong job fair.

The company's Tommy Wong told the South China Morning Post newspaper that he hoped to help Hong Kong compete better in the adult film industry that has made big money for producers in Japan and South Korea.

"I don't understand why the organisers are so sensitive," Wong said. "We do not violate the law. People should not view us with bias. None of our ads are deceptive. I even mentioned that the actors have to be nude."

Job fair organisers called the ad inappropriate, given that the event's target audience was young people, including teenagers.

"We do not recommend they start their careers in such industries," organiser Winnie Chan Wai-yan told the newspaper. "They should choose jobs of a better ethical standard."

Of course, it would be remiss of the AGB not to prostrate itself in the presence of headline greatness.

Sadly for knob-gaggers -- now that doesn't look quite right -- everywhere, the film maker's surname, Wong, is also not quite w ... err ... right.

And as it happens, I know one jobseeking local will be disappointed.

DUMP TRUCK

KNIGHT'S CROSS

David Hasselhoff, alias Michael Knight, alias Mitch Buchanan, is peeved the Germans haven't honoured him for ending the cold war ...

Did David Hasselhoff really help end the Cold War?

Baywatch star David Hasselhoff is griping that his role in reuniting East and West Germany has been overlooked. So what part, if any, did the hunk in trunks play in ending the Cold War?

Barely a month after the fall of the Berlin Wall in November 1989, the city that had been divided by politics for more than 40 years was united in song.

And leading the chorus of several hundred thousand voices was a man hitherto known to the rest of the world for driving a talking car.

David Hasselhoff, star of the hit 80s TV series Knight Rider, is renowned in celebrity-obsessed circles for being Big In Germany; not only as an actor, but as a purveyor of soft rock anthems.

For that seminal concert, on New Year's Eve 1989, Hasselhoff stood atop of the partly-demolished wall and belted out a tune called Looking for Freedom.

It was during Hasselhoff's current promotional tour of Germany that the Hollywood star made headlines for a remark about this event.

Speaking to Germany's TV Spielfilm magazine, the 51-year-old carped about how his pivotal role in harmonising relations between the two sides of the divide had been overlooked.

"I find it a bit sad that there is no photo of me hanging on the walls in the Berlin Museum at Checkpoint Charlie," he told the magazine.

So what, if anything, was David Hasselhoff's influence in helping settle the Cold War?

For those in the UK and US who know him mainly for his TV roles, most notably as leading lifeguard Lieutenant Mitch Buchannon in Baywatch, it's hard to appreciate Hasselhoff's influence on the German cultural scene.

Capture the mood

Hasselhoff was already a singing star in Austria and Switzerland when, in 1989, he had the wisdom to cover a 1970s German hit, Auf Der Strasse Nach Suden.

Renaming it Looking for Freedom, with Hasselhoff singing in English, the song raced up the charts in the late summer, just as a wave of revolt began sweeping through Eastern Europe.

By the time Berliners started hacking away at the concrete wall that had divided their city for a generation, the torch-bearing anthem had been number one for several weeks in West Germany.

With its lament, "I've been lookin' for freedom; I've been lookin' so long; I've been lookin' for freedom; still the search goes on," the song embodied the frustrations of Germany's years of division.

The album of the same name topped the charts for three months and, that December, Hasselhoff was invited to headline a New Year's Eve concert in the recently reunited city. The gig was apparently rubber-stamped by the then German chancellor, Helmut Kohl.

The singer himself has powerful memories of the performance. "It was the first time Germany had been unified, and close to a million East and West German fans stood together in the freezing cold at midnight watching me perform. I was overcome with emotion," he recalls.

Hasselhoff, who by now was appearing in Baywatch, scooped a clutch of top German music awards and went on to become one of the country's biggest selling artists of the 90s.

His popularity even prompted a headline in one German newspaper, "Hasselhoff: not since the Beatles".

Forgotten role?

So, do German fans think their idol has been overlooked as a history man?

John Stuellenberg, who was won over by the Hoffmeister as a 14-year-old schoolboy watching that New Year's Eve concert, believes he deserves recognition at the Checkpoint Charlie museum.

"It's a big museum from what I hear, so I can't see why they wouldn't have room for a photo."

But according to Sascha Tauber, who runs The Hasselhoff Foundation - David's Munich-based official fanclub - this could be an example of the notoriously humourless Germans getting one over on the rest of us.

"Did David Hasselhoff help bring an end to the Cold War? No, I think this is just a joke."

TRACK MY BITCH UP

What's that they say about scorned men?

They're fat, right?

Right. And they make for one of the Herald Sun's best ever headlines.

Disclaimer: This post is running late because a fool -- possibly not me ... possibly -- had problems identifying the subtle differences between the complex concepts of Draft and Publish.

KITT KATCH

Quick. Click the pic.

PS: It's not Karr.

Thanks Burtois.

BRAD REPUTATION

The AGB -- Jake Niall, actually -- today brings you yesterday's game-breaker ...

A Demon with that Daniher twist

He was born in Tasmania and raised in Brisbane, but Brad Miller's roots are in Daniher country. His father played for the Wagga Tigers, the club Terry Daniher was later to coach, before he was recruited by South Melbourne in the late 1960s.

Neville Miller played at South under the great Norm Smith, Melbourne's six-time premiership coach. He was a rangy ruck-rover and full- forward who booted six one day against Richmond. Miller snr lasted only four years and about 30 games at Lake Oval, moving to North Adelaide and Sandy Bay in Tasmania. A bricklayer, he finally laid his foundations in Queensland.

The son, like most of his peers, didn't play much footy at primary school. One day, he tired of rugby and swapped to the game his father had excelled in. Dad, who had taught him drop punts, didn't object. "I was playing rugby league and he was teaching me how to kick drop punts . . . I started when I was seven and finished playing rugby league when I was 13."

Miller's contribution to the Neale Daniher-led Demons' unexpected rebound this season has been overshadowed somewhat by the startling rise of Jared Rivers as a key-position defender and the impact of rookie Aaron Davey, although Miller's part in the renaissance possibly has been no less significant event that of Rivers.

Having started the season with 20 games, he has held down centre half-forward and helped lighten the load on the broad but battered shoulders of David Neitz, who spent much of 2003 competing against two and three defenders. Melbourne, predictable in its Neitz-obsessed, mono-forward ball movement last year, has acquired the options it needed and Miller is chief among them.

If he isn't already, Miller should be a Daniher favorite - not for shared Riverina heritage, but because if there's a famed past player that Miller resembles most, in terms of style and physical attributes, it's the tireless Terry Daniher.

Like the eldest Daniher brother, Miller is a relentless worker who needs room to function and tends to move up the ground to win kicks, creating space for the forwards - such as Neitz - behind him. At "only" 192 centimetres, he isn't tall for a key forward, or a pack-marking type, so he must stay in motion, as TD did. "I have to, otherwise I'm just going to get beaten every week. I play to my strengths."

He leaves the bullocking to Ben Holland and Neitz, both of whom enjoyed themselves yesterday against an under-sized and less than seasoned Tiger defence. Holland, 198 centimetres and 100-plus kilograms, was stood by former teammate Andrew Kellaway, 190 and 90, while Ty Zantuck - normally a flanker - was the sacrificial Tiger on Neitz. Miller, too, had size on his side in his contest with Joel Bowden.

On occasions, Miller will drift closer to goal for tactical reasons and yesterday was one of those times. The reason was that Daniher was respectful of Bowden's capacity to rebound. The Melbourne coach thus ordered Miller to hang around the 50-metre arc, keeping Bowden where he was less comfortable and damaging.

It was a nice bonus that Miller, more noted for his ball-getting ability than for scoring, hurt Richmond with four goals - three of them scored early in the second quarter in a two-minute burst. When Miller's goal flurry had passed, the Demons had turned a lead of five points into nearly four goals. The Tiger resistance really ended there.

There isn't one simple answer to how a team that won five games last season has managed to win 13 of 17 in 2004. Rivers and Miller, occupiers of those key-position canyons that stymied Melbourne, rank high in the list of explanations.

REF OFF!

Courtesy of St Terrence of the Bean, the following is far too lustrous to leave languishing in a mere comments box. It commands to be up front on full display with all the other assorted ... err ... finery.

"Where's ya guide-dog?!?"

BANG!

"Burying ya bones."

WHAT'S UP DOCK?

Well, since you're asking Mr Australian Sub Editor. On Saturday, didn't the Pinks play the Dockers, not the Eagles?

ODE TO BOY

In the Saturday Age crossword. Horrifically killed?

BLOCK YOU!

Is there anything more lame and pathetic than reality TV show fame scroungers whining when they win block all? Block off!

Block auction flop

THREE months of hard work, tears and public humiliation ended in financial heartbreak for the Melbourne contestants on reality program The Block yesterday when they walked away with no cash.

Matt and Jane Martino were left in tears after their renovated Sydney apartment failed to excite bidding and limped to the reserve of $795,000 imposed by Channel 9.

The couple were to pocket any money over the reserve.

AND BLOCK YOU TOO!

Nice guys finish second in Block hock

They are the couple everyone loves to hate but The Block's Kirsten and Jason proved themselves the best renovators when the first two units in Australia's best-known apartment complex were auctioned yesterday.

The Sydney couple, dubbed "Ken and Barbie", pocketed the $77,000 profit on their apartment when it was sold above its reserve of $795,000 to 30-year-old Bondi sales executive Jamie Shakespeare.

GOLDEN GATE SLEDGE

For us affy-condos here in Straya, Dennis Cometti's commentary has ALWAYS been big. Not just lately. Some of us even remember his fine work during test matches from the WACA, and from the WAFL game of the day broadcast on ABC and Regionals ...

"In goes Michalczyk.

In goes Boucher.

Oooooooooooooooooooooooooooh.

Out goes Michalczyk."

Now, of course, he's in the Friday night prime-time seat with Eddie and the boys and his profile is that much bigger.

Yet even though Eddie would have it otherwise, Channel Nine is small potatoes compared with the American sports market. So it would appear Cometti's getting even biggerer still as he makes a splash in the bay beside the city.

Thanks for the tip, Rob ...

OPEN SEASON
Burrell big part of huge fish tale

You're familiar with the scene. Hundreds of souvenir hunters jam McCovey Cove in quest of a historic home run ball. Only this is many years from now, and the hitter is not Barry Bonds, but the Phillies' Pat Burrell. Pat Burrell? We'll get to that in a moment.

Anyway, that's the scene in a new novel called "Meg: Primal Waters'' (Forge Books) by Steve Alten, who, as you might guess, is an avid Phils fan. "I'm conceding Barry Bonds will break the record (Hank Aaron's all-time home run mark of 755),'' Alten tells Open Season. How many will Bonds end up with? "I can only predict so much.''

In the book, it's Burrell's turn to make history. And those hundreds of fans in the cove represent quite a spectacle. They also represent an exquisite buffet for a monster fish named Angel, a 75-foot, 70,000-pound Carcharodon Megalodon (Meg, for short) that just happens to be cruising in the bay.

This is Alten's third book in a series about a prehistoric cousin of the great white shark. Call it "Jaws'' meets "Baseball Tonight.'' The title of the Burrell chapter should have been "Giants Fans -- It's What's for Dinner." At the risk of giving something away, one of the characters is a smarmy lawyer, and you know what happens to them in disaster books/movies. Right, let's see you habeas this corpus.

Now, if you follow baseball at all, you're probably wondering why the souvenir fleet would be lined up in the cove for a right-handed batter; Alten has him hitting, uh, monster shots to the opposite field. The bigger issue is how Burrell, who went to high school in San Jose at Bellarmine Prep, became such a feared slugger. Having hit his 16th homer of the season Thursday, the 27-year-old Burrell has 119 in his career and would need to average 53 over the next 12 years to reach the Aaron/Bonds stratum. Sure, Philly's Citizens Bank Park is a bandbox, but this is ridiculous. And this is the post-BALCO era.

On the phone, Alten reveals that, in the final chapter, Mel regurgitates the prized ball, which figures prominently in a court case. A court case involving a milestone home run ball? Sounds absurd, doesn't it?

Sports and the campaign: "In an interview with ESPN The Magazine, John Kerry said he learned about life from playing sports,'' says Jay Leno. "You know the most frustrating thing about playing sports for Kerry? Finding a helmet that fits. ... Today, President Bush said he also played a lot of sports as a child but somehow the records were either lost or destroyed."

-- Shaquille O'Neal says Phil Jackson's accomplishments will be hard to match. "If a coach goes to the Finals four times in five years,'' Shaq says, "I'll kiss his feet on 'Fear Factor' -- with cheese on them."

-- Rick Reilly of Sports Illustrated suggests marketing slogans for the Lakers now that the thrill is gone, along with O'Neal and Jackson: "That was Zen, this is now! ... Hey, you can still come see the banners! ... Park where celebs used to park!''

-- "For years California has been shipping its solid waste to Utah for disposal,'' says David Jonas of Livermore. "Now that Greg Ostertag has joined the Kings, I guess we're even."

-- "The Astros have banned the headfirst slide in their farm system,'' says Bill Littlejohn of South Lake Tahoe. "So what kind of slide do they take? From the look of the standings, it's a downward one."

She's clipping coupons: English soccer star David Beckham's wife, Victoria, is a real bargain hunter. According to the British press, she took sons Romeo and Brooklyn and a couple of women friends to the south of France to buy discount furniture. She reportedly spent about $460,000. But we don't know how much she saved, considering she chartered a private Lear jet to do it.

-- "The other NBA owners should have no problems getting along with Nelly, '' say Jim Greene of San Francisco, "just as long as they always remember to treat him like a human bling."

-- "With the Olympics less than three weeks away, it is not looking good for the completion of the construction for the Athens Games,'' says Alex Kaseberg. "This just in: The Athens developers have just ordered 10,000 cases of duct tape."

-- Dennis Cometti is the resident wit of the Australian Football League. An example of his commentary: "Exquisite goal by Glendinning. Great judgment. That was a Rock Hudson kick. It looked straight but it wasn't."

-- Former NFL star Deion Sanders is accused by his ex-wife of mismanaging their kids' $2 million trust fund. Says Greg Cote of the Miami Herald: "What, like it was wrong to buy the children a lifetime supply of purple fedoras?"

-- "According to the precepts of the Geneva Conventions,'' says syndicated columnist Norman Chad, " 'The Best Damn Sports Show Period' cannot be shown to prisoners of war."

PS: Am I the only one who reckon's Den's upcoming book threatens to turn it all from off-the-cuff fun into something approaching "official" humour with all it's attendant obligations of having to be funny.

You know, is there a chance Dennis now has to shoehorn his puns into the commentary to satisfy an expectant audience? Rather than his hitherto seamless witicisms that have been the source of so much humour to date.

And what about the ones that AREN'T actually funny? You arrive at work on Monday, only to be confronted with the office bore gaffawing over the previous weekend's "pearler".

How long before there are mugs in team colours with Cometti-isms on the side?

Your coffee is Centilitre Perfect.

GASPING FOR CARE

Confirming general opinion hereabouts, Ian Botham suggests the Round Mound of Pound, Robert Key, enjoys the odd pint or three. Just so we mug spectators don't get the wrong idea, Bob Dylan Willis clarifies: "Not while he's batting though." Thanks Bob.

Seems boozing's not the only thing Key enjoys. What's more, he's got a well known Aussie role model. No names necessary ...

Two good

Key revealed how he needed special medication for cramp.

He said: "The conditions were so humid I started to get cramp in my arms after tea. It just hit me all of a sudden.

"Did I have a cigarette during intervals? I might have had a couple! But the medication I was given worked pretty quickly and I felt fine."

WINDIE WOOF

Well, that's the worst day's bowling I've seen in a long time. Was there even the remotest chance the Windies would pitch one on and about off stump, AND somewhere approaching a good length, AND manage to keep it there for even the modest target of two or three balls in a row? Nope.

Instead, what do we get? The Windie hacks trundling in all day and feeding Strauss and Key easily paced half trackers and generously plonked half volleys. I would have backed Greg Ritchie to score a ton against these pie chuckers. NOW. Wearing his Mahatma sheet.

What a shemozzle!

Key and Strauss in perfect harmony

Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, but while Robert Key probably always had it in mind to try to emulate Andrew Strauss's feat of scoring a Test hundred at Lord's as a late replacement for an injured player, he probably had not banked on doing it while Strauss replicated his deed.

The resulting orgy of runs represented carnage for the West Indies, as the two centuries, Key's first in Tests and Strauss's third here for England in two months, enabled the home side to rack up an impressive 391 for two, following Brian Lara's questionable decision to put them in after winning the toss.

England's total was the highest on the opening day of a Lord's Test since 1907, when they scored 428 against South Africa, and might have been bigger still had they not come off for bad light in the 85th over.

But with Key on 167, and looking as flushed after 5.75 hours of toil as the peasants in a Breughel painting, Michael Vaughan accepted that England probably had more to lose than achieve and promptly accepted the umpire's offer.

Lara was left ruing his decision to insert England, possibly for the rest of the series should his team go down in a heap here. In their golden era, when the West Indies fast bowlers gave most batsmen bad dreams, they put sides in first simply because they knew resistance would be low and they could blow them away.

With Steve Harmison to call upon, Vaughan would probably have done the same yesterday. Yet Lara does not possess such riches in his attack and his thinking smacked more of not wanting to bat, than wanting to bowl.

Whatever his plan, it backfired spectacularly as Strauss and Key, both part of the Academy intake three years ago, both reached career bests in Tests.

The partnership of 291 by Strauss and Key is the highest yet for the second wicket at Lord's. Apart from stirring memories of England's recent dominance in the Caribbean, it brought rich entertainment to the capacity crowd.

It also revealed the steepness of the pair's learning curve since spending that winter under Rod Marsh in Adelaide, the one needed by the West Indies bowlers to get back into this match will be like climbing the north face of the Eiger without ropes.

No bowler escaped, though some figures, such as those of tall off-spinner Omari Banks, whose 17 overs cost an astonishing 111 runs, were worse than others. For some reason, Lara did not try to protect him as Strauss and Key cut, clipped and clubbed him to all parts of the ground. This was not so much deep end as the end, though Banks is too exciting a talent to be discarded just yet.

Tino Best, the lone wicket-taker along with Banks, kept charging in with some purpose, but mostly Lara was forced to alternate one set of dross with another, as suggested by the 52 fours scored.

Those four-balls, so rare against West Indies bowlers of the recent past, were fed to batsmen more frequently than sprats to the gannets at nearby London Zoo. Patience, at least in regard to waiting for the next boundary opportunity to present itself, was not so much measured in sessions, as seconds.

Key, whose form for Kent this season suggests he has probably collared one or two bowlers, was in thumping form after a nervous start. But while his foray into one-day cricket with England has not proved fruitful, only a wistful Mark Butcher, the man he replaced after the left-hander suffered whiplash in a car accident last Monday, will have felt anything but joy for him after yesterday's achievements.

Just as Vaughan's injury allowed Strauss to come in here against New Zealand and score the hundred that sparked the chain of events that led to Nasser Hussain retiring from Test cricket, so Butcher's neck has allowed Key to come in and strut his stuff.

Quite where Butcher fits in once he is fit again is an interesting point, though Marcus Trescothick, dropped on 10 by Best off his own bowling, could come under pressure following a lame dismissal for 16 after a lame pull off the same bowler dollied into mid-wicket's hands.

Butcher's predicament also places the driver of the car that shunted him in a difficult position, should Key do a Strauss and prevent the 31-year old Butcher ever regaining his place in the England side. Although centrally contracted until the end of September, the case for damages could still prove substantial for future loss of earnings.

Ever robust in his self-assessment, Key reckoned he did not hit the ball properly until he was on 80 and enjoyed more than his fair share of luck. Dropped twice, on 16 and 64, catches that should have been taken by Chris Gayle and wicketkeeper Ridley Jacobs, he deserved the breaks if only for conquering his tendency of getting out to medium-paced dobbers like Dwayne Bravo.

There was a big hug from Strauss when he reached his ton just after a tea break in which both teams were presented to the Queen and the Duke of Edinburgh. Meeting royalty may be a privilege but it prevented Key from spending the break replenishing the lost fluid that may have prevented him from cramping up later in the day.

There were no such problems for Strauss, who is reputedly the fittest man in the squad. His connection with Lord's, after three hundreds in his three England appearances here, is bordering on incredulous. Just as well that other Strauss, Richard, never wrote an opera called Lord's, it would have been rewritten over these past weeks.

He fell, for 137, caught behind after edging a cut off Banks. The dismissal gave Jacobs his 200th catch in Test cricket, but that would have brought little joy on a day dominated by England's young turks.

NOTHING BUT THE TEST

Mark Nicholas makes a good point about the upcoming Super Series between Australia and the ROTW ...

It is a mouth-watering prospect, as long as Australia are champions - any other country would be slaughtered by a World XI that included them.

He's probably right. A ROTW side including the Australians against, say, Sarth Efrica, given Australia's domination against the Proteas, may prove rather ugly. ROTW versus India in India might be interesting though.

Which, come to think of it, raises an interesting question. Australia won't be No. 1 for ever. So, should India NOT become the next cock o' the walk as is regularly presumed -- with their less than threatening attack, they still struggle to win away -- who WILL become No. 1?

UNACCFORCEABLE

Gideon Haigh sums it up in Wisdens ...

"The choice seems to be between a law that is enforceable and unacceptable or one that is acceptable and unenforceable."

PHU WAS HERE

He was. Right here. Just then. He put more RAM in my laptop.

PSEUDOANTONYMS

I used to think alacrity meant reluctance. It looks reluctant. It does. To me.

Still does.

WORST

Ever since the good old bad old days days of the seventies and eighties, there has been a gradual cleaning up of the AFL.

This has meant that if there's a bit of biffo needs be dealt out, it can no longer manifest itself as a couple of angry combatants going toe-to-toe. Now players seeking to rough up the opposition have to resort to contact of the sly and sneaky variety.

I'm not suggesting sly contact has never been part of the culture, anyone who remembers Leigh Matthews knee-dropping Ken Hunter at Princes Park in about 1983 would attest to that, but now the cheap shot is pretty much all that's left to any player not wanting to be suspended for a blatant punch on the nose.

From an offending player's perspective, the benefit of a cagey elbow (Brent Harvey on Justin Davies), wild spoil (Nathan Buckley on Andrew Thompson) or devious knee (Greg Stafford on anyone) is that even though he, we and the hittee knows it was intentional, it can be argued as being accidental or incidental contact and thus very difficult for the AFL prosecuter to prove.

This then leads to an overall impression of the tribunal (and the citing process) as being consistently inconsistent.

However, inconsistency's one thing, and given the dynamics of the tribunal it's unavoidable, but sheer bloody farce is another.

For Jeff Farmer to get off a charge of blatantly kneeing Michael Doughty in the face because he ludicrously claimed "was trying to roll Doughty over" is the worst tribunal decision I have ever seen. He should have got at least ten weeks.

I can only hope Farmer has happen to him, what happened to Luke Penny who got off a charge of a sly knee-drop on Gavin Wangafraud which initially cost him two weeks, then the following week played against Melbourne and did his hammy which will cost him four to six. Good.

More here.

PS: For Andrew Demetriou to defend the tribunal with claims that the result proves we watchers shouldn't pass judgement until we've seen and heard all the evidence is just as farcical. With all the facts in, Farmer is still guilty as sin in the eyes of every footy pundit in the land. Even discounting the notion that the AFL is reputedly independant of the tribunal, and therefore shouldn't be justifying it's outcomes.

BLOGOS

Do you know your corporate logos? You know, the difference between Coke and Pepsi. Adidas and Puma. Visa and Mastercard. Dimmeys and Forges.

You do? Well then, click on the symbol below -- apparently it's also a corporate symbol -- and fill in the space below each logo. Should you get them right, you'll get one of these.

(Excel File 563 K)

Thanks Burtois.

TOP TEN TEN

Yes. Right. OK. I know. I'm old and crusty.

Anyhoo, dandruff flecked rock geek fogyism aside, only picking one album per artist, these are my Top Ten from these Top Tens ...

Something Else - The Kinks

Every Picture Tells a Story - Rod Stewart

Exile on Main Street - The Rolling Stones

Who's Next - The Who

Led Zeppelin - Led Zeppelin

London Calling - The Clash

Hunky Dory - David Bowie

Band on the Run - Paul McCartney & Wings

For Your Pleasure - Roxy Music

Revolver - The Beatles

Honourable mentions to Mott, but I prefer Brain Capers. Queen are "uncool" so Jazz is generally ignored. Pity. Astral Weeks is out because I'm totally Vanned out. Setting Sons used to be on very high rotation, but I haven't listened to it in years.

BIG BROTHER

Not THAT Big Brother.

Now I know last year's crackdown on speeding was all part of the policy of "awareness", but I'm not sure any of these accidents were caused by drivers cruising along at 63 in a 60 zone.

Ignore the 'statistics': speed cameras are a monstrous injustice

Nobody who does much driving in Britain these days will be surprised by the news that, in hundreds of places, the number of serious accidents has increased since the introduction of speed cameras. Very often, it is motorists such as me (although not you, I am sure) who are to blame.

We drive along at what we judge to be a safe speed. Then we catch sight of one of those menacing yellow boxes on their grey stalks, take our eyes off the road and the rear-view mirror to check the speedometer, and slam on the anchors. Before we know it - wham! - the bonnet of the car behind has thumped us up the backside.

This hasn't happened to me yet, touch wood, but you have only to approach a speed camera on a free-flowing road to realise that it must happen fairly often. Suddenly, every driver in front applies the brakes, and slows to precisely 40mph, or whatever the limit may be.

I know that I will get letters from readers who say that they have never, ever done anything so irresponsible as to break a speed limit. All I can say is that they are never about when I am on the road. In my experience, at least two thirds of drivers exceed the limit habitually - and this proportion rises to 80 per cent or more in light traffic on dual carriageways.

On those rare occasions when everyone on a camera-free road is observing the limit to within one mph, you can be absolutely sure that there is a police car up ahead. I sometimes think that the police tootle along dual carriageways at exactly 70mph, mile after mile, just for the pleasure of annoying everybody behind. When they go off duty, and get behind the wheel of their own private cars, I bet they break the limit, like almost everyone else.

The truth is, of course - although never officially acknowledged - that most of the time it is perfectly safe to exceed the speed limit by a margin of at least 20 per cent. It must also be said that, in some conditions, it is extremely dangerous to drive at the legally permitted limit.

That is what is so unjust about speed cameras. These lumps of metal and wire cannot distinguish between somebody driving safely at 80mph, on a clear dry road, and a maniac tail-gating at the same speed in a blizzard.

The penalty for both - the careful driver and the potential killer - is almost always the same: a fine and three penalty points on their licences. Four strikes and the offender is off the road for a year, which for many can mean losing their livelihood.

At the last count, about a million drivers had chalked up nine points on their licences. One more flash from an idiot machine, and they will have to kiss goodbye to their right to drive.

In the smoking room at The Telegraph, where these matters are debated in great depth, the weight of opinion, when the latest figures emerged from the Department of Transport, was against me.

Yes, we all agreed that we hated speed cameras. We all agreed, too, that some of them caused accidents rather than simply failed to prevent them (the figures for the Thames Valley police area, where serious accidents had increased in very nearly half of the places where speed cameras had been installed, made that point powerfully).

Nobody disputed, either, that the cameras were an underhand means of raising money for the Treasury, or that the penalties for breaking the limit were indiscriminate and often unjust.

A couple of contributors to the debate pointed out that a new practice had grown up, whereby people who had been caught by the cameras made their husbands or wives take the rap and the penalty points for their fourth offences, to avoid losing their licences. We all agreed that this was very bad.

But, oh, said the great majority, didn't the figures also show that overall fatalities were down by 40 per cent - about 100 lives - in those locations where cameras had been installed? Wasn't that justification enough? Shouldn't we be prepared to endure the gaze of Big Brother, dislike it though we may, if it prevented more deaths than it caused?

The answer to that is that, if you stick up a camera where an accident has been, and there happens to be no accident there the following year, that hardly proves that it was the camera that cut road deaths by 100 per cent, year-on-year. The figure of 100 lives saved may sound impressive, but when you take into account all the variables that cause accidents - weather conditions, tiredness or the behaviour of the children in the back seat - it is barely statistically significant.

There may be a slight correlation between the presence of speed cameras and an overall fall in accident figures. But the correlation is at least equally strong, in particular locations, between the presence of the cameras and an increase in the number of accidents.

What is more, the deaths that may have been caused by the cameras are specific. The lives saved by the cameras are non-specific and theoretical: maybe yours, maybe mine, maybe nobody's.

If they show anything, this week's figures from the DoT suggest that the case for speed cameras as life-savers remains unproved. Why, then, are so many people prepared to accept them, along with all the injustices and expense that they cause, without even bothering to analyse the evidence properly?

All too many of us seem to be seized by a sort of collective guilt, which makes us acquiesce in things that we dislike. We tell the pollsters that we would welcome paying more taxes for education and health; smokers say that they approve of bans on smoking; drivers claim to approve of speed cameras and road humps.

We say these things because we think that it would be naughty to tell the pollsters what we really think.

"What price a human life?" wail the authorities, to justify every new imposition on the British people. Sixty years after D-Day, many of us seem to have forgotten that other important question: "What price freedom?"

JEREMY UMMMMMMM

Not him. No. Him.

ROCKIN' RULE

Back in 1990, Melbourne won sixteen games, yet still managed to finish fourth courtesy of big seasons from Collingwood, Essendon and an emerging West Coast Eagles.

In that season Melbourne beat West Coast and Essendon twice, but lost to eventual premier Collingwood at their only meeting.

There are still a lot of Demon fans I know who reckon Melbourne were the best side that year, and yet Melbourne, after beating reigning premier Hawthorn in the Elimination Final were jumped by West Coast at Waverley after a bizarre confluence of draws, byes and injuries, and subsequently bundled out of the finals race.

Looks like the bad "luck" may be set to continue if what I've been saying for a month, and what Rohan Connolly's article in today's Age says, transpires ...

Saints or Demons face finals draw from hell

Six weeks from the end of the home-and-away season, the AFL top four is just about done and dusted.

As impressive and hard-fought as Geelong's 15-point win over Sydney at Skilled Stadium was yesterday, the Cats, two games and close to 10 per cent adrift of fourth-placed Melbourne, just don't have enough time left to close the gap.

But don't think for a moment that for St Kilda, the Brisbane Lions, Port Adelaide and Melbourne, the last half-dozen games are something of a non-event. Because the way the finish to the regular season is shaping up, the so-called luxury of the double chance for the team that finishes third could, in fact, prove a death trap.

While the Saints, Lions, Power and Demons remain locked on 12 wins each for the moment, the draw gives the interstate pair the greatest chance of finishing on top of the ladder come round 22. And that will spell bad news indeed for the side unfortunate enough to finish third.

Brisbane has four of its last six games at the Gabba, another at the MCG against almost-certain wooden spooner Hawthorn, and perhaps its biggest test in round 18 against Sydney at the SCG.

On form, it should win them all. That would give the team seeking a fourth straight flag the minor premiership for the first time.

If the Lions somehow slip up, the Power, with three games at home, two of the other three against sides out of top-eight contention, and the other against arguably its favourite opponent in Essendon on a favoured venue at Telstra Dome, has the greatest chance of heading the table.

Whatever order they finish, with St Kilda and Melbourne both faced with a harder journey home, the Brisbane-Port top-of-the-ladder quinella looks a good bet.

That would mean that the Saints or Demons would finish third, sentencing them to a trip to the Gabba or AAMI Stadium for a qualifying final.

Lose that, and even if they managed to win a knockout semi the next week, it would be more than likely they would be back to the other of those two interstate venues for a preliminary final. And that is the finals draw from hell.

Finish second, and you can at least host your first final at home. Finish fourth, and while you'll have to go interstate in the first week, the contentious AFL-MCC ground contract means a victory will give you a home preliminary final, and even a loss, provided you survive week No. 2, at worst a preliminary on the neutral turf of the MCG.

For the top four, two of whom are separated by just half a percentage point, it makes not only wins, but the size of those victories, absolutely vital and the run home a matter of centimetres or seconds.

Remarkably, after 16 rounds, Brisbane and Port Adelaide have scored the same number of points - 1768 - while the Lions have conceded only five fewer points.

Had the Power scored another seven points against Hawthorn at the MCG, or conceded one less goal, they'd be sitting second this morning rather than in the potential hottest finals seat of them all.

In the bottom half of the eight, meanwhile, Fremantle's unexpected first win in Adelaide on Saturday night merely rubbed more salt into wounds that Carlton inflicted on the Kangaroos earlier in the day.

The Roos are a game out of the eight, having undone all the work of their inspiring win over Fremantle the previous weekend in Perth with one careless stumble against the Blues.

While Dean Laidley's side has a slightly better percentage than the three teams above it - the Dockers, Sydney and Essendon - it also has clearly a tougher final month than any of its immediate rivals, taking on Sydney at the SCG, St Kilda at Telstra Dome and Brisbane at the Gabba over the last four rounds.

Fremantle's reputation as the most unpredictable among the upper echelon of teams continues.

The Dockers don't have a fortress at Subiaco any more, having dropped five out of nine there this season, but have some decent scalps on the road, none more impressive than that of the Crows, still eminently capable on their day, regardless of their ladder position.

It was a victory that meant the difference between sixth and ninth place on the ladder. And one that makes the battle for the bottom half of the eight no less intriguing than the jockeying going on at the top.

First off can I just mention that if Melbourne win every game for the rest of the season, and thus finish above Port who they play in three weeks at AAMI, the following will be just a lot of nonsense.

Melbourne have had a good year to date, but that could all come to nought should they get bundled straight out of the finals race.

That is a distinct possibility should Brisbane and Port, both with relatively easy schedules -- there's no such thing as a "draw" -- finish one and two.

This would mean, on current standings, Melbourne v Port at AAMI and Brisbane v St Kilda at Gabba in week one.

Should both Melbourne and St Kilda lose, and then get through week two against the fifth to eighth qualifiers, Melbourne will play Brisbane at the Gabba because the Lions finished higher than Port, and St Kilda, because of the MCC allocation of a Preliminary Final, and in spite of finishing lower than Melbourne, will get a "home" final at the MCG.

Therefore, Rohan's right, it would be better to finish fourth than third. Absurd.

Never the less, I support the MCC position. The AFL signed the deal, and then ratified it in 2000, what's more, Melbourne have benefitted from the MCC Rule in 2002, so it would be a case of -- grit teeth -- what goes around, comes around.

BUT. There's another permutation not covered in Connolly's article.

This year the AFL owe the MCC THREE games in week one and the AFL have indicated to the MCC that they intend to fulfill that quota. That means if Melbourne finish third, in week one of the finals they will host a home match at the MCG against Port (Once again, on current standings).

Should they win that -- Melbourne have never lost to Port in Victoria, although I consider Port more of a threat this year than previously -- they will go straight into Preliminary Final week with a guaranteed home final against whoever makes it through as their opponent.

In that circumstance -- big smile -- the MCC Rule rocks!

WHITE MAN CAN JUMP

Yesterday's was one of those games that was never going to be pretty, and as far as Melbourne were concerned, there was far more to lose than gain.

It was always going to be a scrap, it nearly always is against the Bulldogs, and then when Green and Davey went down in quick succession I was thinking, here we go. Fortunately, Green came back later, even though his effect was minimal, and Davey had only done a hammy, even though it first looked as though he'd been shot.

Luckily, despite the Dees poor kicking -- that makes 24.46 against the Bulldogs this year and this time was possibly down to uncertainty underfoot due to playing on a skating rink  -- the Dogs were total and utter rubbish.

With a year left on Peter Rohde's contract, the Bulldogs may find themselves with a difficult decision. If they don't already.

They have an appalling style of play which has got to be down to the coach, and I can't see the Bullies hierarchy putting up with the status quo for another year.

However, the AFL have final say over the Bulldogs finances, and they'd be loathe to allow the Dogs to dump a coach early, and thus drop a payout. No matter how low Rohde's package is. And I'm tipping it's very low.

The only thing I can see is that one of Rohde's support staff will take over in the short term. This might act as a circuit breaker as well as save a payout being compounded by a new coach's pay packet.

One thing's for sure, the Dogs have a better list than either Hawthorn or Richmond, yet they're playing absolute trash and it can't be left to continue.

Anyhoo, Bulldogs problems aside, the Dees had plenty of good players, White, Wheatley, Whelan, Nicholson, Nietz, Walsh, Read, Brown and the under-rated Broadbridge, and should have won by a lot more.

And the old footy maxim still holds true ... good sides can win ugly.

Daniher rues behind count

MELBOURNE again emphasised the enormous gulf between the top and bottom sides with a straightforward demolition of a struggling Western Bulldogs outfit yesterday.

While the final margin was only 38 points, it could have been much greater had the Demons not kicked a wasteful 9.21 on the maligned Telstra Dome surface.

So comprehensive was the Demons' win that it raised the question of whether they can finish top two and give themselves a realistic shot at the premiership.

Coach Neale Daniher was circumspect in his response. "If we can keep winning, we can," he said.

But rival Peter Rohde, who witnessed his young side dismembered by a clinical Brisbane the previous week, still feels the Lions are the team to beat for the flag.

"Melbourne were very good in their own way today, but I think anyone who watched the two games would say Brisbane were very methodical and certainly a fair bit more clinical in the way they went about it," Rohde said.

For all that, although yesterday's match never reached great heights, Melbourne was always in control, even though the Demons lost Aaron Davey with a serious hamstring injury in the second quarter and key playmarker Brad Green was concussed in the same term and was only a bit player from then on.

While the Dogs struggled to convert opportunities, they have kicked 10 goals, 10 goals and seven goals in their past three games, the Demons had captain David Neitz as a key focal point.

Neitz finished with 6.2 from his nine kicks, which was a good afternoon's work considering the constant harassment from Brian Harris.

At the other end, the Dogs chief goalkicker was ruckman Luke Darcy with three, but positioning him deep in attack meant opponent Jeff White was able to run rampant in the midfield and across half-back.

It was often White who found Neitz with unstoppable passes every time the Demons needed a goal to keep their momentum going.

And while the predictable Adem Yze and reliable half-back flanker Nathan Brown knocked up getting possessions, former Eagle Phillip Read chipped in with a clever shut-down job on Bulldog centreman Scott West.

With Brad Johnson running out of puff as the game wore on, this left Robert Murphy as the Dogs chief protagonist to kick through the lines and try to generate some scoring chances.

Daniher said he was happy with his players' intensity, but disappointed they did not finish better.

"We had an increase in our percentage, but I thought a lot of shots we missed . . . probably both teams missed . . . really dampened the game," he said. "It was hard to get excited because no goals were going through."

But Daniher was bouyed by the return of Paul Wheatley and Matthew Whelan in defence and Brad Miller in attack.

He also praised 100-gamer Cameron Bruce for taking part after being in hospital on Saturday with a serious gastro attack.

Rohde again conceded that the Dogs' list was not up to scratch.

"I thought we had a real dip today early on in the match although we ran out of running power as time went on," he said.

"We need to get our younger players through as quickly as we possibly can and season them up and harden them up as much as we can.

"That's not to say that we're going to throw the baby out with the bathwater, but clearly our list at the moment is not up with the best teams in the competition."

With gimme games against Richmond and Hawthorn at the MCG in the next two weeks, Melbourne's moment of truth will come against port Adelaide in Round 19 at AAMI Stadium.

TREETMENT

CITIZEN MANE

More fine work from Tim Pekin in today's Age. This time it's a tribute to former Fitzroy Lions team-mate, and now Brizroy Lions full-forward Alastair Lynch who plays his 300th game tonight at the MCG against Piewood.

Hoping for the odd magic moment ... Rhyce Shaw's back too.

The last of the mane men

During the week I spoke with some once-passionate Fitzroy supporters. These people used to offer their home, food and friendship to a mongreled infusion of Fitzroy recruits.

Ploughing straight through the old scars, I asked them who they barracked for now. One said he decided early to go with the Fitzroy colours (who else could he follow?), and success had made the transition easier.

Another said she'd followed all of her boys, at whatever club they went to, but her passion stayed with Fitzroy. She follows Lynchy, of course, and Pikey, and Chrissy Johnson. The other has gone completely AWOL, but knows Lynch is still playing.

I was asked the same question. I puzzled for a minute, then gave a totally unconvincing answer. "Well, Lynchy, I suppose, and I guess the Saints, and I'd like to see the Tigers do well, and even the Doggies . . ."

What the hell is that? What happened? So I set myself some research.

As a kid, I barracked for Richmond, back when Robbie McGhie looked like a prison escapee, Dick Clay did drop-kicks, Brian Wood wore a mo yet was still dashing, when clean cut was out and unruly in, when KB's comb-over didn't matter and blood was worn like a badge.

As a boy, I wore the Tiger colours for my local club, Pirron Yallock. The team was mostly made up of farmers' sons and feral kids from the Stony Rises, whose parents bred wild goats with kangaroos and shot trespassers. We thought they came to use the showers rather than play football.

At 15, I went to Colac, and they wore the Tiger strip, too. Stephen "Grub" Theodore was the playing coach. He was a ferocious-looking man - black-bearded, broad-eyed and barrel-chested. I played half-forward flank and used to take hangers on him and kick torpedo goals. I could never tell what he thought of that; he was too smart to smile.

When I got to Fitzroy, I was forced to grow up. No more black and yellow; the Tigers became the opposition. My coach looked like my old coach, only taller, with a beard and the bellow of a butcher. Robert Walls reminded me of an ogre who got sick of being under the bridge, and found he had an appetite for footballers.

I remember watching kick-to-kick before training. Bernie Quinlan was alone in the middle of the ground kicking torpedo goals. Lee Murnane was also alone, apparently because he'd injure anyone who came near him. Paul Roos and Gary Pert just mucked around, trying to take hangers on everybody and each other.

Micky Conlan would roll the ball in front, then run, pick it up, baulk an imaginary opponent, run close to the boundary, kick the goal then scuttle back, laughing. I joined in, for the next six years. Fitzroy in those times was a great place to be.

There is only one left from my time - Alastair Lynch. He was a gangly youth when he came across the Tasman. He stuck close to the other Taswegians at the club, learning how not to dress and listening to their Bob Marley albums. It took him a couple of years to settle in and get going on the field, and by that time I was gone.

St Kilda put me in red, white and black and I spent the next six years at a club that had turned the corner, watching the demise of Fitzroy from far enough away to keep a reasonably objective view. By the time I finished playing football, Fitzroy had finished, too.

Now, when I look at who is around me, it is mates from my Fitzroy days - Michael Gale, Matthew Armstrong, David Strooper, Jimmy Wynd. Even though all of us finished our careers at other clubs, we have maintained regular contact. The only one still playing is Lynchy.

I think for supporters (and yes, former players) of Fitzroy, Lynchy has become an icon, a shining beacon of the old, oblivious to the flash of the new. For those whose football birthplace was Fitzroy, who feel separated from the biological parent, unhomed and still unable to move on, Lynch represents the Fitzroy Football Club.

He is a bit like the archetypal hero, a young warrior schooled in the old ways, struck down by an undefinable illness, who emerges against all odds, bigger and better than before. He has become a link with tradition, and gives hope that Fitzroy still exists in these new Lions. For the diehards who need a team, Lynchy can bring some reality to old dreams.

So get in among some glory and head to the MCG tonight. You might even enjoy yourself.

I spoke to a mate about what I was writing. He said not to make a fuss about the old tosser, just say: "Well done, and we'll see him tonight."