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Scape Goat The Hangar

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Is this place ****ing cursed?

Is it the rock hard MCG size training ground? The spongy floors?

Or did we build on an ancient Indian burial ground and we're haunted by the ancestors?

We change our strength, conditioning and recovery staff like Underwear but we're still left with injury after injury.

Maybe it's the jet fuel fumes?
 
Is this place ****ing cursed?

Is it the rock hard MCG size training ground? The spongy floors?

Or did we build on an ancient Indian burial ground and we're haunted by the ancestors?

We change our strength, conditioning and recovery staff like Underwear but we're still left with injury after injury.

Maybe it's the jet fuel fumes?
Jet fuel cant melt soft tissues!!!
 

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The injuries we're getting are happening during games, not at the Hangar, so I'm guessing it's the curse of the ancestors rather than the facilities.
We're looking for a scape goat Lore. Not logic.

Unless.... have you been to The Hangar lately?
 
Is this place ****ing cursed?

Is it the rock hard MCG size training ground? The spongy floors?

Or did we build on an ancient Indian burial ground and we're haunted by the ancestors?

We change our strength, conditioning and recovery staff like Underwear but we're still left with injury after injury.

Maybe it's the jet fuel fumes?
I reckon it's Sheedy using voodoo dolls
 
Is this place ****ing cursed?

Is it the rock hard MCG size training ground? The spongy floors?

Or did we build on an ancient Indian burial ground and we're haunted by the ancestors?

We change our strength, conditioning and recovery staff like Underwear but we're still left with injury after injury.

Maybe it's the jet fuel fumes?

In the early 20th century, North Melbourne fought for survival, its best players plucked away by the powerhouse of Essendon. Year after year, champions abandoned the Shinboners for the glamour of Windy Hill, leaving behind a club struggling to make its mark. One man refused to accept this betrayal—an embittered North Melbourne groundskeeper who, in secret, infused the turf at Windy Hill with a curse. Mixing soil from Arden Street with arcane whispers of vengeance, he ensured that Essendon would never enjoy unbroken success. And so it began—the injuries, the faltering dynasties, the sudden collapses.

But curses don’t stay put. When the Bombers left Windy Hill for a new home, they unknowingly carried a piece of their past with them—a strip of turf, transplanted to their fresh training ground. The hex followed, embedding itself into the earth like a festering wound. James Hird, unaware of the dark history beneath his feet, sought to strengthen the players against the unseen forces draining them. But the spirits struck back. The supplements saga erupted, the ultimate sporting storm engineered to exile the one man who could break the cycle. And so Essendon marched on, forever tethered to a fate set by a long-dead gardener with a score to settle.
 
In the early 20th century, North Melbourne fought for survival, its best players plucked away by the powerhouse of Essendon. Year after year, champions abandoned the Shinboners for the glamour of Windy Hill, leaving behind a club struggling to make its mark. One man refused to accept this betrayal—an embittered North Melbourne groundskeeper who, in secret, infused the turf at Windy Hill with a curse. Mixing soil from Arden Street with arcane whispers of vengeance, he ensured that Essendon would never enjoy unbroken success. And so it began—the injuries, the faltering dynasties, the sudden collapses.

But curses don’t stay put. When the Bombers left Windy Hill for a new home, they unknowingly carried a piece of their past with them—a strip of turf, transplanted to their fresh training ground. The hex followed, embedding itself into the earth like a festering wound. James Hird, unaware of the dark history beneath his feet, sought to strengthen the players against the unseen forces draining them. But the spirits struck back. The supplements saga erupted, the ultimate sporting storm engineered to exile the one man who could break the cycle. And so Essendon marched on, forever tethered to a fate set by a long-dead gardener with a score to settle.
See Lore

THIS is what the thread needs.
 
Season 8 Wtf GIF by The Office
 

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