It was a dark night. A little nippy but good for mid-July. We were making our way from Jono's car (The Shaggin Wagon) to the gates of CUA Stadium, our hearts filled with hope, our minds full of images of players darting about scoring, tackling, kicking - the possibilities! I should explain that we is Jono, Gary, Jimmy and Yours Truly. Of the small group we had one Bulldogs fan, two Panthers fans and an Eels follower.
As we wandered across the car park at Aqua Golf toward the streaming traffic of Mulgoa Rd, I happened to pass a young boy and his father. The two were wearing Eels paraphenalia but I was so confident of a Panthers win, I gave the little fella a friendly ribbing "Go the Panthers!!", to which the tyke replied "mind your own f***ing business, ya Mountains gronk!" Astonished, but not to be deterred, I rejoined the guys and we headed for the gates.
Upon arriving at what I refer to as the "Gates of Heaven", we began to arrange how we would rip the club off by buying illegitimate concession tickets. As it would happen, they had long stopped accepting NRL players cards (of which we are also not entitled) due to the sheer enormity of the swelling crowd. We were forced to buy tickets, and luckily enough, we joined a free-flowing line reminiscent of 'The Soup Nazi' episode of Seinfeld. One jerk was yelling into one of the ticket booths about not being allowed in on what I suspect was his junior players card...what did he expect? He was at least 56, he was fooling no one.
Well could we have hoped for a better start? The short answer to that question is no. Penrith raced away to a seemingly insurmountable 6-0 lead only two minutes into the contest and I was sure I saw a couple of Parra 'fans' headed for their cars to 'beat the traffic'. If we thought that start was good, the Panthers piled on another 16 points (including a Michael Jennings swoop on a loose ball and 80m dash) to make it a 22-0 lead only half an hour into the first half. That's where the nightmare started. In the final 10 minutes of the first half, Parramatta scored two very quick, very soft tries from poor Penrith defence. At half time, the score was 22-12 and the slimy buggers had a sniff.
The second half was one of the worst experiences of my life. Penrith scored a solitary try to the Eels' four. When the score became 22-24 to the Parramatta side, I knew it was over. While as a fan of any football team, you always try to remain positive and adhere to the golden rule (ALWAYS stay till the final siren), there are some games, when you just know it's over. Like the time Penrith trailed Canberra by 54 points late in the second half, it's just not happening, bud.
When that self-obsessed moron Jarryd Hayne scored a break away try (because our fullback had followed up a kick and was therefore out of position), it was hasta la vista baby.
Penrith scored a miserable consolation try which should have given us a sniff, but the sniff was snuffed out when Justin 'Mask of' Horo streaked away and scored in the corner. It was a dismal showing by the Mountain Men in front of a ground-record 22,500 fans that showed up.
I was in the worst position of all, having absolutely dished it out to Parramatta supporters around me for half an hour. I had to stand there with my arms folded and my mouth shut and take it. It was a horrible night. We wandered across to Panthers afterwards where the players showed up for a corporate post-game function. The boys looked pretty dapper in their suits. I saluted Luke Lewis, he cordially responded with a grin and a salute. We both knew the drill.
They say a week is a long time in sport. Let's f***ing hope so because we've got the Storm in Melbourne and frankly, I'm feeling a good old fashioned shellacking is on the cards if the Men in Black don't turn things around!
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