Certified Legendary Thread The Cut

[tasmanlvr]

Jurrah walks into Port Adelaide.

LJ: I don't know how to put this but I'm kind of a big deal.
Garry Hocking: Really.
LJ: People know me.
Garry Hocking: Well, I'm very happy for you.
LJ: I'm very important. I have many skills and my football is made of rich mahogany.

 

[Marlowe]

I see no changes. Wake up in morning and I ask myself: is barracking for the MFC worth it, or should I blast myself?

I'm tired of being on the bottom of the ladder, and even worse, we tanked. My eyes hurt, so I'm looking for something stiff to drink.

Journos think Neeld hates the negros, shoot him down in the media, you're a hero.

Give a crack to all the kids, who the hell cares? Just one more body added to the injury list.

It's time to fight back: that's what Stynes' said. ****ing cancer strikes again, now Stynes is dead.

I got love for all the players but we can never go nowhere if they're bringing me to tears.

We got to start making changes - learn to stop seeing the opposition as brothers and teammates as distant strangers.

I'd love for it to go back to the way we played when I was a kid, but things changed - that's just the way it is.

 

[PureFooty]

Neeld sitting in his office

Brian Royal enters
Royal: Needly...I've got a plan that's gonna make our midfield the best in the league. You see it's simple, we play Spencer in the ruck along side Bate, Jetta and Dunn. The opposition won't know what had hit em'.
Neeld: Well your gameplan is compelling, Mr Jackass, I mean uh Royal. So i'll just type it up on my invisible typewriter. Hmm hmm hmm (makes fake typing motion)
Royal: *gasps* You didn't have to humilate me
Brian Royal storms out

Neil Craig enters
Talking of their latest training drill
Craig: Neeldy, you won't believe what just happened! Cale Morton ran back with the flight, and then hit up Lucas Cook who kicked a goal!
Neeld: Oh yeh right! I'll just type that up on my invisible typewriter dum dum dum... fruitcake
Neil Craig leaves

 

[Demon JP]

John Sitton (A favourite on this board) has been asked to evaluate the season...

 

[KickLongTackleHard]

Day 1, Pre season 2012, Neeld meets the playing group for the first time..

Moloney: [has hand raised for a high-five and is smiling]
Coach Neeld: Put your hand down.
[Moloney does as told]
Coach Neeld: You're smiling.
Moloney: Yes.
Coach Neeld: Yes, sir. Why are you smiling?
Moloney: 'Cause I love football. Football is fun.
Coach Neeld: Fun, sir? It's fun?
Moloney: Yes.
Coach Neeld: You sure?
Moloney: I think...
Coach Neeld: Now you're thinkin'. First you smile, then you thinkin'. You think football is still fun?
Moloney: Uh, yes.
Coach Neeld: Sir.
Moloney: Yes- no, sir.
Coach Neeld: No?
Moloney: Um, it was fun.
Coach Neeld: Not anymore though, is it? *Is* it?
Moloney: Not right now, no.
Coach Neeld: No, it's not fun anymore. Not even a little bit.
Moloney: Uh... no.
Coach Neeld: Make up your mind. Think since you're thinking. Go on, think. Is it fun?
Moloney: No, sir.
Coach Neeld: No? Absolutely not?
Moloney: Zero fun, sir.
Coach Neeld: [addresses team] All right, listen up! I'm Coach Neeld. I'm gonna tell you about how much... *fun* you're gonna have this season.

 

[Tommy D]

Mate, we are playing like anything but Titans.

 

[Dory_77]

(Dunno if it's been done yet, but I'm putting it here anyways):
Neeld (on day one of preseason): I'm Mark Neeld, your senior coach. From now on you will only speak when spoken to and the first and last words out of your filthy sewers will be 'sir'. Do you maggots understand that?
Players: Sir yes sir.
Neeld: Bullshit I can't hear you. Sound off like you've got a pair!
Players: Sir yes sir!
Neeld: If you ladies buy into my plan, if you survive this preseason you will be a weapon. You will be a minister of death praying for war. But until that day you are pukes. You are the lowest form of life on earth; you are not even human ****ing beings. You are nothing but an unorganised, grab-asstic pieces of amphibian shit. Because I am hard you will not like me, but the more you hate me the more you will learn. I am hard but I am fair. There is no racial bigotry here; I do not look down on ******s, gooks, coons or greasers. Here you are all equally worthless and my orders are to weed out all non-hackers who do not pack the gear to serve in my beloved team. Do you maggots understand that?
Players: Sir yes sir.
Neeld: Bullshit I can't hear you.
Players: Sir yes sir!
Neeld: What's your name scumbag?
Davey: Sir, Aaron Davey, sir!
Neeld: Bullshit, from now on you're Spudball. Do you like that name, Spudball?
Davey: Sir yes sir!
Neeld: Well there's one thing you won't like Spudball, we don't let heartless bastards who don't give 100% places on the list next year.
Davey: Sir yes sir!
Moloney: That you John Wayne, is this me?
Neeld: Who said that? Who the **** said that?! Who's the slimy little comet of shit, twinkle-toed ********er down here, who just signed his own death warrant? Nobody huh? The fairy-****ing-godmother said it? Out-****ing-standing. I'll train you all until you ****ing die; I'll train you all until your arseholes are sucking buttermilk! (Grabs Cook) Was it you, you scroungy little ****?
Cook: Sir no sir.
Neeld: You little piece of shit, you look like a ****ing worm, I bet it was you.
Cook: Sir no sir!
Moloney: Sir I said it sir!
Neeld: Well, no shit, what have we got here a ****ing comedian? Vice-Captain Joker? I admire your honesty; hell I like you, you can come over to my house and **** my daughters. (Punches Moloney in the gut).
You little scumbag! I've got your name, I've got your ass! You will not laugh, you will not cry! You will learn to play how I choose to teach you! Now get up, get on your feet! You had best un-**** yourself or I will unscrew your head and shit down your neck!
Moloney: Sir yes sir!
Neeld: Vice-Captain Joker why did you join my beloved Demons?
Moloney: Sir, to win a matches sir.
Neeld: So you're a match-winner? Let me see your game face.
Moloney:Sir?
Neeld: You got a game face; ARGHHHHHHHHH! That's a game face, now let me see your game face!
Moloney: Argh!
Neeld: Bullshit, you didn't convince me let me see your real game face.
Moloney: BLARRH!
Neeld: You don't scare me work on it.
(To Cook): What's your excuse?
Cook: Sir, excuse for what sir?
Neeld: I'm asking the ****ing questions here Lucas, do you understand?
Cook: Sir yes sir!
Neeld: Well thank you very much can I be in charge for a while?
Cook: Sir yes sir!
Neeld: Are you shook up, are you nervous?
Cook: Sir I am sir!
Neeld: Do I make you nervous?
Cook: Sir...
Neeld: Sir what? Were you about to call me an arseh*le?
Cook: Sir no sir!
Neeld: How tall are you Lucas?
Cook: Sir 196cm sir!
Neeld: 196cm, I didn't know they stacked shit that high! You trying to squeeze an inch in on me somewhere?
Cook: Sir no sir!
Neeld: Bullshit it looks to me like the best part of you ran down the crack of your momma's arse and wound up as a brown stain on the mattress. I think you've been cheated. Where in the hell are you from anyway Lucas?
Cook: Sir, Ballarat sir!
Neeld: Holy dogshit, Ballarat! Only steers and queers come from Ballarat and you don't look much like a steer to me so that kinda narrows it down doesn't it. Do you suck dicks?
Cook: Sir no sir!
Neeld: Are you a penis puffer?
Cook: Sir no sir!
Neeld: I bet you're the kind of guy that would **** a person in the arse and not even have the common decency to give him a reach-around. I'll be delisting you!
(To Morton): Did your parents have any children that lived?
Morts: Sir yes sir.
Neeld: I bet they regret that; you're so skinny you could be a modern runway model. What's your name anyway?
Morts: Sir Cale Morton sir!
Neeld: Do you suck dicks?
Morts: Sir no sir!
Neeld: Bullshit I bet you could suck a golf-ball through a garden hose.
Morts: Sir no sir!
Neeld: I don't like the name Morton, only spuds and softcocks are called Morton from now on you're Gober Pile!
Morts: Sir yes sir.
Neeld: Do you think I'm cute Gober Pile, do you think I'm funny?
Morts: Sir no sir!
Neeld: Then wipe that disgusting grin off your face!
Morts: Sir yes sir!
Neeld: Well any ****ing time sweetheart!
Morts: Sir I'm trying sir!
Neeld: I'm going to give you 3 seconds, exactly three-****ing seconds to wipe that stupid looking grin off your face or I will gouge out your eyes and skull**** you! 1... 2... 3...
Morts: Sir I can't help it.
Neeld: Bullshit get on your knees pussy! (Puts hand out) Now choke yourself! Goddamit with my hand you spud! Don't pull my hand over there, I said choke yourself, now lean forward and choke yourself! Are you through grinning?
Morts: Sir yes sir.
Neeld: Bullshit I can't hear you!
Morts: Sir yes sir!
Neeld: Bullshit I still can't hear you!
Morts: Sir yes sir!
Neeld: That's enough, get on your feet! Mr Pile you had best start squaring your arse away and shitting me hard ball gets, or I will definitely **** you off!

(During preseason training, doing a cotested drill)
Neeld: Get your wimpy arse in there Cale. Oh that's right Cale, don't make any ****ing effort to get the hard ball! If God wanted you to win that ball he would've miracled it into your hands by now wouldn't he?
Morts: Sir yes sir!
Neeld: Get your weak arse in there Cale, what the hell is the matter with you anyway? I'll bet if there was some pussy in that contest you'd get right in there wouldn't you Cale! You attack contests like old people ****, did you know that Cale? Get in there, you're too soft! Cale whatever you do, don't lay a tackle, that would break my ****ing heart! Quickly, in and under, in and under! Well what in the **** are you waiting for Cale? Get in and under! Are you quitting on me? Are you? (Morts sheepishly looks at Neeld) Then quit you ****ing wimpy little piece of shit! I'm going to rip your balls off, so you cannot contaminate the rest of the world!
(Doing pullups)
Neeld: Get up there Cale! Pull!
(Morts struggles to do half a pull-up)
Neeld: Pull Cale pull! One pull-up Cale come on pull!
(Morts falls off)
Neeld: You've gotta be shitting me Cale! Get your arse up there! Do you mean to tell me you cannot do one single pull-up? You are a worthless piece of shit Cale, get out of my face!

 

[Captain Jack]

Someone funnier than me could make a parody of this classic Disney tune... in any case it applies to our predicament in a large way.

 

[PureFooty]

Here's my version of Call Me Maybe.
'Call me BJ?' By Mark Neeld

I threw a wish in the well,
Don’t ask me, I’ll never tell
I looked to you as it fell
Please Gods come our way

I’d trade our picks for some tricks
Pennies and dimes for your effective kicks
I’m really looking for this
Will win games if you come our way

Your stance is golden
That GF mark, my hand was joltin'
Please come, we’re not foldin'
Where you think you’re going, BJ?

Hey, I just met you,
And this is crazy,
We’ve got the draft picks
So play for us maybe?

I speak for all the other boys,
Go F**k the haters
Here’s a juicy contract,
Just sign the Paper’s?

If you don’t come to our club
We’ll miss you so bad,
We’ll miss you so bad
We’ll miss you so so bad

If you don’t come to our club,
We’ll still be so bad,
And you should know that,
Rossy’s not your dad,dad

It’s hard to look right
At you BJ,
We need a superstar
And it used to be LJ

Hey I just met you,
But don’t go to freo
Rossy wants Clokey,
So give him the heav ho

All the other clubs,
Don’t have the salary,
But we’ve built a war chest,
So far our lists a peanut gallery!

Again, we just me you
and perhaps were crazy,
but fairdinkum mate,
our lists full of ladies

Just leave the Sainters
we really need you,
Come to the Dees now,
and forget about Roo

 

[Bluelegs]

Addam Maric delisted. Sad day for football.

Photo was taken moments after he heard the news, he looks devestated

 

[Marlowe]

Neeld address the entire team

Neeld: Okay folks, let me hear what's troubling you. Don't be shy, yell it out. Everybody, go!

Watts: I, uhh, can't commit to a contest.
Dunn: I'm too good.
Trengove: I have problems with--
Moloney: --I'm always interrupting people!
Neeld: Okay, okay. Right now I want each of you to try something interesting - there's no trick to it, it's just a simple trick! Now, close your eyes for a moment and really listen to that inner-voice inside, your inner child. Listen. What's he saying?
Jones: [inside] Stay the course big Naf, you're doing super!
Sylvia: [inside] Food goes in here (points to mouth). [spoken] It sure does.
Jamar: [inside] Hey, Mark, what's-a-matter? You no talka with your accent no more! [spoken] Mama mia!

Neeld: Mitch, let's try some rage work. I want you to pretend this dummy right here is Leigh Matthews
Clark: Okay, I'll try.
Neeld: Tell this dummy Matthews exactly how you feel right now.
Clark: I'm annoyed with you, Leigh. Not just annoyed - angry! I'm a grown man now [yelling] and I can play as a key forward! [Clark starts tearing dummy with his teeth]

 

[Wonaeamirri33]

Last week, at the gates of a dungeon inside the 'G....

Cameron Schwab: Crucifixion?
Brent Moloney: Yes.
Schwab: Good, out of the door, line on the left. One cross each. Alright. Crucifixion?
Lucas Cook: Yes.
Schwab: OK, out of the door, line on the left. One cross each. Crucifixion?
Liam Jurrah: Ah, no. Freedom.
Don McLardy: Hmm?
Schwab: What?
Jurrah: Yeah, freedom for me. They said I hadn't done anything, so I could go free and live on an island somewhere.
Schwab: Oh, that's jolly good. Well, off you go, then.
Jurrah: Nah, I'm only pulling your leg. It's crucifixion really.
Schwab: I see. Hehe, very good. Well, out of the door...
Jurrah: Yeah, I know, one cross each, line on the left.
Schwab: Yes, thank you. Crucifixion?
Ricky Petterd (nervously squeaking): Yes.
Schwab: Good.

 

[tasmanlvr]

Phase One: bring classic thread back to the top.
Phase Two: ???????
Phase Three: Profit.

 

[RandB]

Worthy winner of 'Thread of the Year 2012'.

May it be timeless.

 

[tasmanlvr]

One more post, for recent event's sakes...

Mark Neeld (finishing his signing with Shannon Byrnes): Excellent.

Melbourne's small forwards start booing

Neeld: Craigy, are they... booing me?
Craig: Uhh... no, they're saying... Boo-urns! Boo-urns!'

Neeld quickly addresses small forwards

Neeld: 'Are you saying boo, or Boo-urns?'

Small forwards begin booing again

Morton: 'I was saying Boo-urns'

 

[PureFooty]

One more post, for recent event's sakes...

Mark Neeld (finishing his signing with Shannon Byrnes): Excellent.

Melbourne's small forwards start booing

Neeld: Craigy, are they... booing me?
Craig: Uhh... no, they're saying... Boo-urns! Boo-urns!'

Neeld quickly addresses small forwards

Neeld: 'Are you saying boo, or Boo-urns?'

Small forwards begin booing again

Morton: 'I was saying Boo-urns'

This is, if not my favourite post, in my top 5 of all time. seriously the Morton part killed me, some of your finest work there tasmanlvr

 

[Tulip]

Melbourne's small forwards start booing

So it was just an awkward hush?

 

[tasmanlvr]

So it was just an awkward hush?

Could well have been, no reports of riots at AAMI Park as it stands

 

[LiveFreeOrDie]

Guessing Mark Neeld gave this speech to Melbourne before Essendon 2012

I don't know what to say really. Three minutes till the biggest battle of our professional lives. It all comes down to today. Now either we heal as a team, or we're gonna crumble. Inch by inch, play by play, till we're finished. We're in hell right now, gentlemen. Believe me. And we can stay here, get the shit kicked out of us, or we can fight our way back into the light. We can climb out of hell. One inch at a time.

Morton, I can't do it for you. I'm too old. I look around, I see these young faces, and I think... I mean I've made every wrong choice a middle-aged coach can make. I pissed away all our top draft picks, believe it or not. I chased off anyone who's had any experience, and lately, I can't even stand the face I see in the mirror. You know when you get old in life, things get taken from you. That's part of life. But you only learn that when you start losing stuff. You find out life's this game of inches. And so is football.

Because in either game, life or football, the margin for error is so small. I mean... one half a step too late or too early and you don't quite mark it. One half second too slow too fast, you don't quite catch it. The inches we need are everywhere around us. They are in every break of the game, every minute, every second.

On this team, we fight for that inch. On this team, we tear ourselves and everyone else around us to pieces for that inch. We claw with our fingernails for that inch. Because we know when we add up all those inches, that's gonna make the ****ing difference between winning and losing! Between living and dying! I'll tell you this - in any fight, its the guy whose willing to die who's gonna win that inch. And I know if I'm going to have any life anymore, it's because I'm still willing to fight and die for that inch. Because that's what living is! The 6 inches in front of your face...

Now I can't make you do it. You've got to look at the guy next to you, look into his eyes. Now I think you're gonna see a guy who will go that inch with you - for the love of GOD, no one look at Morton. You're gonna see a guy who will sacrifice himself for this team, because he knows when it comes down to it, you're gonna do the same for him.

That's a team, gentlemen. And either we heal, now, as a team, or we will die, as individuals. That's football, guys. That's all it is. Now, what are you going to do?

 

[SuburbanMe]

He could've also suggested he'll shout the team at the local rub and tug if they win.

 

[Marlowe]

Neeld reviews Brent Moloney's 2012 season

Neeld: Under 'strengths', you've just put 'football'.
Moloney: Yea
Neeld: That's your job though, that's just -
Moloney: - mmm
Neeld: No, Brent, I'm sorta looking for skills within your job. So is there anything else you could have put there?

(long awkward silence)

Neeld: No? O.K. Under weakness, you've put 'eczema'.
Moloney: Mmn.


Neeld: Okay...right, you've left this section completely blank. You haven't done the Q&A.
Moloney: I thought that you filled that in.
Neeld: No no no, this is aimed at you. Look: "To what extent do you believe that you have the skills and knowledge to perform your job effectively?" And then you just tick one of boxes: "Not at all. To some extent. Very much so. Don't know." What would you tick?
Moloney: Don't know.
Neeld: Okay... question two: "Do you feel you have received adequate training to use yourself in the new game plan effectively? "
Moloney: (long silence) ...what are the options?
Neeld: Same as be--they're always they same: "Not at all. To some extent. Very much so. Don't know."
Moloney: Don't know.
Neeld: Don't know again. Okay..."Do you feel you are given the flexibility to decide how best to accomplish help scoring us goals?"
Moloney: (more awkward silence)
Neeld: Do you want the options again?
Moloney: Yeah.
Neeld: "Not at all. To some extent -- always the same -- Very much so. Don't know. "
Moloney: Don't know.
Neeld: If "don't know" wasn't there, what would you put?
Moloney: (silence) What are the options again?
Neeld: (now visibly frustrated) "Not at all. To some extent. Very much so. Don't know."
Moloney: Very much so-
Neeld: -do you even remember what the question was?
Moloney: No.

 

[CowboyFromHell]

Don't use Ricky Gervais' genius in a post about Brent Moloney.... Moloney isn't worthy.

 

[Marlowe]

Don't use Ricky Gervais' genius in a post about Brent Moloney.... Moloney isn't worthy.

What about Dean Bailey? After re-watching The Office , I suddenly have a lot of relevant material for him. Plus, he shares the same initials!

Dean Bailey on coaching a football team:

 

[DrMubutu]

Tim Harrington: I'm confident we can get Viney with a second-round pick, it'll just come down to who is the better negotiator: Gold Coast or me.
Collingwood: Hey Tim....... I'll trade you my delicious Chris Dawes and Sharrod Wellingham for your crummy old pick 4.
Harrington: Done and done!
Neeld: *grumbles*

 

[LeverPuller]

Tim Harrington: I'm confident we can get Viney with a second-round pick, it'll just come down to who is the better negotiator: Gold Coast or me.
Collingwood: Hey Tim....... I'll trade you my delicious Chris Dawes and Sharrod Wellingham for your crummy old pick 4.
Harrington: Done and done!
Neeld: *grumbles*

hey, don't tar them with the same brush as Craig Cameron yet!