Alright bitches. Bet you’ve missed us, haven’t you?
Now that the Vietnam-esque flashbacks from the Grand Final have – sort of – subsided, we thought it might be about time we did a bit of writing and stuff.
On face value this might sound a bit nit-picky, especially after finishing with the league leader’s shield, but we were not consistent enough last season, performance-wise at least.
The teams that win cups and championships have levels of performance are always pretty equal – their best weeks and their worst aren’t that far apart.
When we were at our best, we were world beaters. Far and away the best side in the league.
But at our worst, we were absolute dog shit.
The teams that won the big trophies were better than us in that regard. Wigan especially.
The crust munchers play a really piss poor brand of rugby, dull and attractional, but most weeks, whether they won or lost, their performances were pretty much on par.
Hull, up until the cup final, were the same.
Obviously teams have blips, but while those two had a bit of a stumble, we fell down the stairs dropping all of the stuff that we were carrying, knocking ourselves out and being woken up at 4 am by our angry missus (or fella. We’re a progressive brain fart of a blog) covered in our own piss.
And you can’t win trophies covered in your own piss.
Losing in two finals is a horrible way to finish a season, but the improvement from the absolute cluster fuck that was 2015 should really be mentioned.
If you believe what Tony Smith had to say and our aim was to “go close” in all comps, we achieved our targets, and despite the almighty meltdown by some sections of our support after both defeats, we reckon that we’re heading in the right direction.
The shouts of lacking bottle for the big games is bollocks. You don’t get to finals if you lack mental strength.
By the time you reach show piece events you’re playing the best teams in the land who can beat each other on any given week.
We were two lost balls from winning the treble.
We’d still manage to find something to moan about though if even if we did win the treble. It’s the Warrington way.
With Tony Smith saying that we’ve completed our recruitment, it seemed like a good time to talk about to the signings. But then Chris Sandow happened and, well, it seemed like a really good idea to talk about the signings.
Three of the four confirmed – remember that word – will genuinely improve the squad.
Mike Cooper comes back a much better player than when he left, Andre Savelio is a genuine talent and Dom Crosby is a good rotational prop; reading the comments on social media the Wigan fans were genuinely gutted that he was leaving says something. Those fuckers are harder to please than our lot are.
Our pack looks absolutely immense and our bench must be the strongest in the league next season. Always a big advantage in the modern game.
Matty Blythe is a weird one. Not exactly pulled up trees at Bradford and always seems injured. He is a decent squad player, can provide cover in a few positions and we very much doubt he’d be taking up any room on the cap, a bit like the Ryan Bailey signing last year, but more versatile.
It would have been nice to have seen a winger brought in, like, but Tony Smith did say that we’d completed our squad a few years ago and then we signed Joel, so if anyone can find a video of Jordan Rapana tea-bagging a much loved family pet so we can sign another disgraced three-quarter, that’d be quite handy.
Which brings us to Chris Sandow…
Right, first things first.
There are ways and means of going about things and he hasn’t covered himself in glory with the way he left, but you know what, we find it really hard to slag him off in the whole episode.
Fair enough, he should’ve had a pair of balls and told the club he wasn’t happy and wanted to return home, but we don’t know what was going on inside his head.
Whether we like it or not, playing rugby is a job.
Just because he has thousands of people paying to watch him do his doesn’t really change that it’s still just a job.
When things are tough the last thing on anyone’s mind is work. From personal experience, we know that it’s hard being away from home.
Whether it is only a few – or 70 – miles from your family and where you grew up, it can be a struggle at times. We wouldn’t like to imagine what it would be like to be 12,000 miles away from a familiar face.
Yes he was surrounded by team mates and friends, but you cannot be around them 24/7 and it is easy to fall into bad habits (we’re speculating about the bad habits of course. Naughty us.)
Some of the shite posted on social media has been nothing short of vitriolic and unfair.
We have absolutely no idea of what Chris has been going through personally and to be honest, he deserves a break.
Bill Shankly was wrong. Football isn’t more important than life and death. Far from it.
For some it’s an occupation, for most it’s a pass time.
We need to support the people that beat themselves up for our entertainment. We can’t keep banging on about player welfare and supporting things like the brilliant State of Mind and RL Cares only to have a go at a player when it negatively affects our season. It’s bullshit.
Hopefully he lad gets any help he needs and can sort his head out.
That said, we’ve signed Todd Carney to replace him so that’s alright, isn’t it?
No, sorry it’s Ben Barba?
Kevin Brown? Fuck off.
We should really just ignore all the transfer rumours shite, but it’s hard to when loads of places are constantly saying we are in for all sorts of ex NRL aces with varying degrees of personal issues, rival team’s wunderkind and whatever the fuck Kevin Brown is.
If the giraffe necked Widnes captain does replace Chris Sandow then it must be the most bizarre transfer for ages around these parts.
It stinks of a panic buy of Oumar Niasse proportions.
This is one of the only transfer’s in recent memory where both sets of fans are equally pissed off.
The Widnes supporters seem to be as up in arms at the thought of losing their leading light to us as we are about signing him.
It’s a weird one, he’s not even the Chemics’ best half back, and if we couldn’t prize Joe Mellor away (who incidentally isn’t as good as Dec Patton) then maybe looking at Rhys Hanbury and pushing either him or Stef into the halves looks a better option than having two organising half backs and nobody who can spark something with ball in hand.
We’re going to look more robotic than them, erm, them Robots on the Sky Sports titles.
But probably still less robotic than Wigan.
We’re in a weird position where we have a shit load of money and a marquee spot available, but no fucker to sign.
Nobody worth a shiny shite is going to come over from Australia and everyone half decent over here is unavailable.
The Guardian did a click-bait thing with seven players that could replace Sandow, but there are literally too many to list.
Everyone that’s not at North Queensland has been linked in the last few weeks.
You can imagine hundreds slimy agents sniffing around us now like Pepe Le Pew after that cat with the paint up its back on the cartoons, offering the likes of Jacob Miller at a knockdown price if we could just lend them £50 until their war pension arrives on Tuesday.
If we do end up with Brown after being linked with Barba and Carney, we cannot say we’re going to be pleased.
We’re trying to see the positives, because you know, a balanced and fair article might cheer us up a bit.
The only crumb of consolation is that both Tony Smith and Wayne Bennet seem to rate him, so he can’t be that bad, but we can’t remember a pre-season signing that has left us less enthused than this – and we’re including Jordan Cox in that.
But we suppose, if it pisses the mutants from down the road up, then that’s a plus. Probably.
Expect the news to be announced on the club website on Boxing Day and all that.
NB: we are aware of the potential calls of hypocrisy after saying get off Sandow’s back before slagging Brown off. But there’s nothing personal about what we’ve said about Kevin Brown. We just don’t think he is good enough for the standard of rugby we’re at. Nothing at all like the comments on Nat Wood’s picture on Facebook. There’s a difference.