OllieGrieve
Team Captain
This piece of **** was published in today's Age and is pure bulltish and jealousy.
Doctor Fixx
January 15, 2005
I was in a grass hut last week when an African physician friend of mine said: "The Navy Blues are the victim of Voodooism."
This respected doctor believes it is no coincidence that the fortunes of John Elliott and his club are connected by a supernatural world involving headless chickens. Now before you ask, "Which doctor?", I advise calm. His notion of a bitter Mr Elliott and a Carlton Voodoo Doll are preposterous. The Carlton ailment is much more interesting than that.
Its Latin name is Arroganciosis Carltoneesis. Translated, it is a permanent, rare affliction of the brain that is born of money, success and terrace houses. It is a condition that is wonderful in the good times but confusing when you finish last (2002), 15th (2003) or 11th (2004).
What's more interesting is that Arroganciosis Carltoneesis is perfectly understandable. Consider the club's contradictions. Its theme song, sung to the melody of Lily of Laguna (whoever she is), has a boastful yet flawed lyric: "We're the team that never lets you down."
Consider that this club has won 16 premierships, yet a section of their colosseum is called The Legends Stand and it is almost always empty. Consider, too, the last chat you endured with a Carlton supporter. Was that a humble person?
Nonetheless, my job is to secure the 2005 premiership for the Blues. So I stalked Denis Pagan. Although I am 80 and still bodybuild, I am petrified of the man. He must be mad, or wonderfully wealthy, to take on the job at Optus. He lost Craig Bradley before he began and within a season, Brett Ratten, Andrew McKay and Adrian Hickmott retired. And thanks to his administrators being riddled with Arroganciosis Carltoneesis, the AFL banned him from drafting the players he needed. Yet in 2004, the Blues started winning again. Ten times, in fact, including wins over finalists Geelong, Melbourne and Essendon.
I found Denis alone in Princes Park, just near the running track. Ex-Eagle Callum Chambers had just run two laps in four minutes, seven seconds. Yet Denis was wailing and chopping at his hair. "We'll finish last in 2005," he cried. "God help me, I'll be ruined."
I wasn't surprised. You see, Denis was originally a Roo, not a Blue. His working-class Arden Street reality would be at odds with Arroganciosis Carltoneesis, and so dull its powers of delusions of grandeur.
Denis would know that the Carlton playing list is good, not great. Sure, if Anthony Koutoufides plays 20 games, he could win a Brownlow. Brendan Fevola is a premiership full-forward in waiting, but he needs Nick Stevens and Scott Camporeale to be brilliant every week and that won't happen. Lance Whitnall is frustrating. Matthew Lappin works hard, but that's not news.
In conclusion, there's no danger. Only a deluded mind can get them to the big time. Like the drunk Liberal politicians at my gentlemen's club, they must believe they have a right to be in power.
So, I fixxed their leader to think he was as Carlton as Silvagni. "Repeat after me, Denis; I have Fevola's mind exactly where I want it." Which he did.
"The O'hAilpin brothers understand me." Which he did.
"I can even outrun that tram." Which he tried to do.
I watched Denis, now infected with full-blown Arroganciosis Carltoneesis, as he ran towards the university. Even after he lost sight of the tram, Denis kept running. He now knew the tram would eventually tire, or stop at Flinders Street. And Carlton would triumph again.
Dr Fixx was trying to decipher a prescription from Tony Hardy.
Doctor Fixx
January 15, 2005
I was in a grass hut last week when an African physician friend of mine said: "The Navy Blues are the victim of Voodooism."
This respected doctor believes it is no coincidence that the fortunes of John Elliott and his club are connected by a supernatural world involving headless chickens. Now before you ask, "Which doctor?", I advise calm. His notion of a bitter Mr Elliott and a Carlton Voodoo Doll are preposterous. The Carlton ailment is much more interesting than that.
Its Latin name is Arroganciosis Carltoneesis. Translated, it is a permanent, rare affliction of the brain that is born of money, success and terrace houses. It is a condition that is wonderful in the good times but confusing when you finish last (2002), 15th (2003) or 11th (2004).
What's more interesting is that Arroganciosis Carltoneesis is perfectly understandable. Consider the club's contradictions. Its theme song, sung to the melody of Lily of Laguna (whoever she is), has a boastful yet flawed lyric: "We're the team that never lets you down."
Consider that this club has won 16 premierships, yet a section of their colosseum is called The Legends Stand and it is almost always empty. Consider, too, the last chat you endured with a Carlton supporter. Was that a humble person?
Nonetheless, my job is to secure the 2005 premiership for the Blues. So I stalked Denis Pagan. Although I am 80 and still bodybuild, I am petrified of the man. He must be mad, or wonderfully wealthy, to take on the job at Optus. He lost Craig Bradley before he began and within a season, Brett Ratten, Andrew McKay and Adrian Hickmott retired. And thanks to his administrators being riddled with Arroganciosis Carltoneesis, the AFL banned him from drafting the players he needed. Yet in 2004, the Blues started winning again. Ten times, in fact, including wins over finalists Geelong, Melbourne and Essendon.
I found Denis alone in Princes Park, just near the running track. Ex-Eagle Callum Chambers had just run two laps in four minutes, seven seconds. Yet Denis was wailing and chopping at his hair. "We'll finish last in 2005," he cried. "God help me, I'll be ruined."
I wasn't surprised. You see, Denis was originally a Roo, not a Blue. His working-class Arden Street reality would be at odds with Arroganciosis Carltoneesis, and so dull its powers of delusions of grandeur.
Denis would know that the Carlton playing list is good, not great. Sure, if Anthony Koutoufides plays 20 games, he could win a Brownlow. Brendan Fevola is a premiership full-forward in waiting, but he needs Nick Stevens and Scott Camporeale to be brilliant every week and that won't happen. Lance Whitnall is frustrating. Matthew Lappin works hard, but that's not news.
In conclusion, there's no danger. Only a deluded mind can get them to the big time. Like the drunk Liberal politicians at my gentlemen's club, they must believe they have a right to be in power.
So, I fixxed their leader to think he was as Carlton as Silvagni. "Repeat after me, Denis; I have Fevola's mind exactly where I want it." Which he did.
"The O'hAilpin brothers understand me." Which he did.
"I can even outrun that tram." Which he tried to do.
I watched Denis, now infected with full-blown Arroganciosis Carltoneesis, as he ran towards the university. Even after he lost sight of the tram, Denis kept running. He now knew the tram would eventually tire, or stop at Flinders Street. And Carlton would triumph again.
Dr Fixx was trying to decipher a prescription from Tony Hardy.
.
