Communication Breakdown

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Cheyenne apologises for not pontificating on our great win last week, but his Stone Age ADSL teepee internet connection has been down all week. I have read the wind and collected all your trancendental thoughts and I have to say I agree - Malthouse is the doyen of control freaks and yes, I too felt sorry for his staff on the bench when he went down to interrogate them 6 minutes before 3/4 time.

In particular, poor Brad Green, who has been victimised several times this year by Mick in front of millions watching at home. Brad was clearly wincing like Pavlov’s dog as Mick pranced up and down the boundary line. Brad Green who played 200 games (over 100 more than Mick) and could have captained Australia had he stayed with cricket.

Face it, Mick - you’ve only got one goer with any class and his name’s Chris Judd. Marc Murphy acts like he should still be in a pram. In a couple of years Juddy will be gone, and so too will the control...

Cheyenne has changed over the years, and his attitude to footy is no exception. From 2004, when Guerra couldn’t get his non-preferred boot to the ball in the goalsquare against Port (leading them to their first flag), to our sad defeat in the elimination final in 2011, we Sainters have all watched every game with the overall goal of the Grand Final in mind.

The natural, certain and understandable falloff in intensity that is being displayed by Milney, Dal, Goddard (before he left), Sam Fisher and Kossie is sad, but hey, it’s EVOLUTION. The wonder is how Roo continues to operate as he has for the past 10 years. What a champ. What a captain, as last night testified. I’ve been lambasted for targeting Milne and Dal, but the facts are clear. They’re earning more in one year than Cheyenne will in a lifetime, but their effort doesn’t match the paypacket.

Last night Milney was at it again - costing us goals, selfishly ignoring Saad who was in the clear and...

Cheyenne apologises for the late missive, but coming home from NZ on my home-made Kon Tiki by hitching a ride behind the superfast SS PEPTIDE meant that I only got back this morning. I was so lucky that Cap’n Dank sources his peptides and steroids from Wellington - the Wellington Mob Bikie headquarters, to be precise. That crazy Cap’n Dank - it was like he was a truck driver on speed the way he rode the Tasman current back to Port Phillip Bay. We moored at shed 9 Docklands an hour or two ago, so just a hop across the road to the Bombers’ home ground and in the peptides go to the medicine chest and water bottles.


The game? We went ok, everybody tried hard, lots of good publicity, more games there next year, and with a bit of luck we’ll be the Cake Tin Saints within five years. So great to know that the Saints will survive - it just means we’ll need the SS Peptide every second week to see our home games. The away games? Piece of piss - most Sainter fanatics...

STK v ESS Rd 4

Cheyenne left the Spaceship cursing the Sainter selectors for leaving us embarrassed for big man strength. I’m sure if you asked a 21 year old Lenny what he thought he’d be doing when he reached 33 years, then going up against Bellchambers or Hille for boundary ruck contests wouldn’t be on his radar. Even after they lost their CHForward we still looked like midgets.


Deciding to hold fire, that there must have been a reason for not picking Hickey, Cheyenne finally heard today that Hickey “wasn’t ready” (Scotters’ press conference). I know the info was there before today, but Cheyenne has decided to make a stand for intelligence and refuses to engage in mind-numbing, timewasting devices like shitter, Facewipe and the rest of them, and that includes hearing the same questions over and over again from snotty nosed ‘footy journalists’ whose number now exceeds the number of actual players.


Do any of these ‘journos’ tell us in...

SEAFORD MARINARA



Cheyenne has made his first expedition to the Linen House Centre at Seaford, and has liked what he saw.

Driving past St.Kilda the old misgivings (“why did we ever leave the Junction Oval?”) arose, then again as Moorabin was passed, till finally the LHC at Seaford was reached. Advice from Club Headquarters along the lines of “There’s no parking, so it’s best to come for the match and family day by public transport” immediately sent the mind racing back to the nightmare of our humble club (with a surely disease-ridden addiction to Centrebet as our major sponsor), with not a parking space to its name, competing against a Collingwood that can, whilst maintaining Emirates as ONE OF its major sponsors, casually flick Lexus for Holden as it makes its $7 million annual profits.

However, on arrival, parking in a nearby street (not that much different to our habit at Moorabin) and walking through the pleasant adjoining nature...

Cheyenne has for several years marveled at the way the AFL controls our sound inputs whilst at the AFL venues. Whether we like it or not, our ears are assaulted with absolute rubbish before, during and after the game. Exhibit 1 - Meatloaf. Exhibit 2 - Most of the bands that play at half time - though not because the bands are crap, the SOUND is crap. Mankind has conquered many things, but sound ain't one of them. So I suppose we can forgive the AFL a teensy bit.



However, let’s turn to Julian Assange’s Address from the Balcony. Three mikes gaffered together like a music festival from the 60s. The most anticipated speech from a public figure in years, and it’s a muffled, echoing mess. Surely the BBC had access to a direct feed they could have run through an OB van so that we on the other side of the world could understand what poor Soon to be Strung Up Jools had to say?

“Cheyenne, you idiot,” I hear you say, “they WANTED it to sound like...

Cheyenne has been struck dumb for 3 weeks - since he realised that ‘Big Brother’ was back. I was under the impression that Mankind was evolving intellectually. OK, I realise it’s a slow process, but why put society through ‘Big Brother’ again? How many players, after experiencing the horror of dropping into the hole in front of Plugger (think Peter Caven), and being smashed and mutilated . . . how many did it a second time? None. Because even Kenny Hunter wouldn’t be that stupid. But here is Mankind, doing something so masochistically similar a second time - reprising ‘Big Brother’. Actually, ‘reprising’ is too artistic a word to be in the same sentence as ‘Big Brother’. ‘Rehashing’ is better. If we must have ‘BB’, let’s get serious and bring in a footy theme. A young AFL star gets to fill the hole in front of his rampaging Big Brother. The Big Brother that has no neck, no teeth, and plays for Port Colts or Dingley. Imagine a young Kevin Abblett being smashed ...

The big semi-trailer is panting steam in the cold morning air as it waits outside the Saints’ old spiritual home - The Junction Oval, St.Kilda. One by one the Sainter warriors emerge from their warm, new vehicles, only to be herded up the ramps of the semi. 25 of them squashed together, preparing for their gruesome drive up the Hume and Pacific Highways to The Gabbotoir, in central Brisbane. As they pass Seymour, young rookee Sam Dunell asks his skipper Nick Riewoldt to tell him about what’s happened to Sainter braves there in the past. “They got me good one day back in 2005.” Nick said. “Some of the most horrible henchmen the AFL has ever seen - including the Sadistic Scott brothers. After Mal Michael had wrecked my shoulder, the bruvvers crashed into it, again and again. I ended up in tears on the boundary line. Imagine if ‘Chicken Wing’ Judd had been playing for them that day instead of the Eagles - he would have ripped my arm right off and they’d have roasted it for a snack at 3/4 ...

Gina Rinehart has made an offer that couldn't be refused for the GOD Particle - rumoured to be several billion dollars - and upon delivery has immediately injected it. The GOD acronym has now been given several possible meanings by Cheyenne - “Gina Of Death”, “Gina Owns Daworld”, “Gina Our Digger” and “Governess Of Doom”. Please send your feedback if one tickles your fanny (sic). One of the joys in the Autumn family household is the fact that, as part of our Saints membership, we get the Age delivered for free. Gina thinks that, even though the once erstwhile Michelle Grattan has turned viciously against Julia and Labour, The Age is still too left wing for her liking, so she's determined to swallow Fairfax and have her way with the board and thus make the Age a virtual Mining Company/Liberal Party Gazette. And, save for some feeble tut-tutting from...

CHEYENNE SEEKS POLITICAL ASYLUM IN MOORABIN TOWN HALL

Cheyenne - Saints Round 13



Cheyenne has just walked into the Moorabin Town Hall to seek asylum from the US as a political asylum seeker. First - the background. Last February, No 1 draft pick Jonathon Patton was sent to Sweden for major knee surgery. At least that’s what the football public were told. In fact, Big Jon, who is a close relative of former US General George Patton, was being infiltrated by the US military into the Swedish Health System, where one of the women bringing the denied sexual assault claims against Julian Assange now works. Inside his suspect knee, Patton was carrying the bribe - in the form of a $2,000,000 diamond, to give to the woman. Because no sane person would suspect that a teenage Aussie Rules player would be smuggling contraband in the form of diamonds into the Swedish territory, he was whisked through customs without so much as a “How long do you intend to stay...