Like many Raiders Army trips this year the day started at Château Loz. KW’s late withdrawal to go camping in Belanglo State Forest meant there was no need for a Queanbeyan detour.

After a traditional Raiders Army communication break down, we got in touch with “The Ferrari” who informed us he was right around the corner.
So for a record 2nd time in one season, a Raiders Army away trip departed within 10 minutes of it’s scheduled time, this record is not expected to be broken in 2010.

Just as we got out of Lyneham, there were already indications that an unnamed traveller was feeling quite hungry. At this point it became very clear that we would be stopping before the Raiders Army official away trip restaurant at Sutton Forest, this boycott may or may have not done damage to our already fragile relationship with this stakeholder..

An uneventful first hour had passed when we decided to stop over at the only McDonalds in Australia that Todd Carney cannot legally enter. Any hope of a quick lunch were dashed when it became quite clear that half the local population had also decided a Macca’s lunch was an ace idea.

After grabbing a no so quick bite, or in Kaitlyn’s case a McSmorgasbord, we were off. The next few minutes flew by as we listened to Loz lecturing Kaitlyn that if she kept up the Maccas addiction she would have to “wash herself with a rag on a stick”, (we had no idea at the time, but this would become the catch phrase of the night)

The trip needed some music, fortunately I had brought along a C.D which contained musical greats like Rick Astley and Shannon Noll just to name a few. Unfortunately I didn’t seem to format the CD correctly. I think that shows the extent of my I.T skills, I don’t know whether it’s hilarious or a massive concern that I am one of the people that run this website.

After a brief tour of the beautiful Lakemba, we arrive at the Brewery at about 3:30pm to meet the four other Raiders fans who were in agreeance that having some pre match drinks four hours before kick off was a logical idea. Why we left at 12pm for a 7:30pm match I will never know, even the Toyota cup didn’t start until 5:30.

Just after 4pm the drink prices seemed to shift to event day mode. I guess the dogs vs Raiders at the Olympic stadium is something that people circle on their calendars. At 5pm I rush to the ticket office and couldn’t believe my luck when I ended up being the 3rd person in line. No way was I missing out on my ticket to this epic blockbuster. As I farewell some fans through gate B; which has more security than attending fans, I head back to the brewery to see if the Raiders fans count had cracked the double digits yet.

After a couple more XXXX beers at the reasonable price of $5, all 9 of us decide it is time to go into the stadium. Just before we walk into our away fans section we notice that they have a surfboard ride set up. While this was probably more aimed at the kids in the ground, we would eventually end up visiting this attraction later in the night.

After grabbing some Tooheys and some hot chips which tasted like they had been sitting on the counter since Stadium Australia first opened, we headed down to our supporters bay which had a reasonable turn out considering our ladder position. Celebrity Raiders fan and season 2 winner of the biggest loser Sam even joined in to become part of the massive sea of green.

Just before kick off we are greeted with a posse of teenagers who think they are hard core because they are sitting in the away supporters area instead of the other 68,000 empty seats. . Anyway that’s not to worry, if this is how they get their thrills in Western Sydney then who am I to judge.

The whistle for time on is blown and 3 Tackles in an executive decision is made that we should start up the old “My garden shed Chant”. Thankfully the Raiders faithful all decided to get involved which saved me looking like a complete clown for starting a chant that nobody else was involved in.. I think some locals around us were stunned due to the extreme irony of the song.

The RA were in fine voice throughout the first half and at 15-10 we were more than in the match. Another positive sign was that security seemed to have backed down on earlier attempts to get us to sit down due to the complaints from our Bulldogs supporting friends. Although it did seem that the small group was fortunate to be able to move up in one of the 35 empty rows behind us, I guess they secretly loved the Raiders too much to move away from our bay.

Sadly one of our new friends, his night was cut short when he was ejected from the stadium for under age drinking. After giving him a cheerio song it was off to attempt the surfing challenge. I think the operators of the ride could work out that we came from a land locked town by the fact our Canberra contingent couldn’t manage to crack 5 seconds on the board, between us.

The 2nd half was an interesting one, at 21-10 down and Monaghan off the field we knew it was going to be a tough ask. How ever we continued to believe and did out best to try create some atmosphere in that soulless stadium. We weren’t big on numbers, but we had plenty of heart and gave it out all, and to the boys credit they kept fighting and pulled the margin back to 21-16. This only lifted the spirits in bay 104-1 and a try in the corner gave Terry Campese a chance to put us in front, unfortunately the kick waved away and a penalty goal to the dogs on full time sealed our fate.

However we were still very proud of our boys. We have a very young side that is getting valuable first grade experience and gelling as a team. Keep the faith people, we have a very special group of players at our club right now. Dave Furner is also a man that is fully committed to the Raiders, combine these two and I think we have a winning formula.

So we say good our goodbyes and make the trek to the car, some requiring assistance. At this point of time we just want to get out of there but unfortunately we are stuck in grid lock with some Fat Pizza rejected cast members right behind us constantly blasting their horn and yelling abuse. Thankfully we were eventually on the highway and they were off to look cool in the car park of a local McDonalds.

Going out of Sydney we noticed a few fire trucks that were in a hurry to get to a massive factory fire in the distance. It did cross our minds that the same fine citizens we encountered only minutes earlier were possibly involved in this. The 10pm bulletins confirmed our suspicions when it was revealed that the factory was in fact a car yard, no wonder they were in a hurry, they had a massive insurance job to pull off. With with the tunes from Triple M now blazing we were approaching Sutton forest in good time..

Just after an emergency rest stop, we faced an ethical dilemma of whether or not to pick up a hitch hiker. Much to Kaitlyn’s disappointment we drove past him. I’m sure it would have been fine though, after all there is nothing suspicious about a bloke hitch hiking about 20 minutes outside Sutton forest at 1145pm on a Saturday night, it is possible that our hitch hiker could have been the Raiders Army‘s version of Russel Coigt KW looking for a ride back to Q-Town. (btw KW’s All Aussie Adventures will be available on DVD for $24.95 just before Christmas)

We arrived at Macca’s to find the freakish tradition of arriving just after the Toyota cup team had continued. I really don’t know how we end up running into them at every away trip. Maybe they sit in the car park and wait until we arrive just to take the piss. After the entire squad is fed, we eventually make it to the counter and put our orders in. Kaitlyn decided to take Loz’s earlier advice on the Macca’s and only order 20 nuggets and 2 cheeseburgers.

While waiting for our food a random Raiders fan decided it was a good idea to attempt to play some music using buttons of the eftpos system, you really do see a lot of strange things when out in the middle of nowhere..

Once we were on the road again it was somehow decided it was good idea to phone up random people just to say a certain Simpson’s quote, again we apologise if anyone received random voicemails at approximately 1230am. After a short debate about whether a tree is a vegetable and whether or not it looks like Broccoli we were past Goulburn.

We decided against stopping off for some $2 horse manure and arrived back in Canberra just after 1am, it had been quite a long day and I think everyone was glad to be back home.

Sadly this it is for our Sydney trips this season, there will be a great turn out of Raiders fans in Brisbane but I can’t see many making the trek to New Zealand.
I have heard rumours that Kaitlyn and Loz are attempting to paddle there using only a raft and a rag on a stick, if that eventuates a very interesting review will be sure to come up .

On Saturday night we take on the Dragons at home base, I encourage all fans to get out there and support our boys against the current competition favourites. There will be a big turnout of the (un)faithful Dragons Army so it is important we also turn out in numbers.

Take care and enjoy the rest of the season.

Believe

-Marko.

Special thank to our RA’s Gosford resident Rowan, who this week came up with this review of the events that unfolded in Newcastle

MARC POOLEY: MORE BEER THAN MAN

OK, I’m not going to bore you with stories about the atmosphere on the hill, the fact the Raiders wasted more opportunities than Greg Norman, or my sneaking suspicions that Newcastle fans are all related to each other and have two heads. You’re here to read about Marc Pooley, a man who went from being ‘that balding bloke who went bananas at the Souths game’ to a legend in the space of three hours and 37 standard drinks.
Pooley started drinking early, and was already well on the road to being smashed when he jumped on the train to Wyong at around four o’clock. As soon as we pulled out of the station he pulled out a tub of vodka jelly – which was more vodka than jelly, I can tell you – and started downing it. By the time we hit Broadmeadow he was stumbling all over the place like Michael J. Fox, but he was just getting started.
We made it to Wests Leagues and Pooley tucked into a couple beers. Wait, scratch that, he didn’t tuck in as much as he poured them down his throat as if his stomach was on fire. Deadset, he’d polished off two schooners before I’d made it a third of the way through my first and he wasted no time heading back to the bar for more. It was then that we sensed something very, very special was going on. Not even the fact that Mohawk was Mohawk-less could take away from the magic.
We made it to the ground with about 20 seconds to spare, and Pooley disappeared to the bar. He staggered back to the hill where Sik Nik (it probably wasn’t him, but let’s say it was) started begging him to skoll three beers. He did it, then headed back to the bar for more. The bar staff already knew him by name and the game had only just kicked off!
After that the jelly made another appearance, and it was around this time that Quentin (Kenihan, not Pongia) turned up to watch the game. You’ll remember him as the wheelchair-bound larrikin who stole our hearts because he’s a midget in a wheelchair.
Anyway, trust Pooley to accidentally spill a beer all over Quentin, forcing the poor bastard to scoot off into the distance.

Perhaps overcome with disappointment after his idol deserted him – or due to the fact he’d been stealing wine off every girl in the vicinity – Pooley then fell down the hill, gathering momentum like a snowball and sending friends and foes alike scuttling out of his way. Think of that scene from Raiders of the Lost Ark with the boulder, but replace the rock with Pooley and Indy with a toddler in a Knights jersey, and you’ve got some idea of how terrifyingly hilarious the whole thing was.
But nothing – and I mean nothing – can prepare you for what happened next. As far as we were concerned, Pooley just vanished into thin air after that. We called his phone, but he didn’t answer. We started chanting his name, but he didn’t come back. The second half started and the Raiders were still losing, and the place was dry and barren without our lantern of hope. The game finished and we walked out with our heads hung low and no Pooley.
It wasn’t until days later that we learnt the full, horrific tale, and it was so batshit insane that a donkey with a fish taped to its head would look normal in comparison.
During the half-time break Pooley – who by this point was more beer than man – vomited on an opposition fan. Let me say that again: MARC POOLEY PARKED A TIGER ON A NEWCASTLE SUPPORTER.
Tragically I don’t have a photo of Marc chundering, so you’ll have to make do with this picture I found after a brief Google search. Please note that it looks almost exactly like Pooley.
Anyway, the fans reportedly sprinted away to clean the chunks of carrot and globules of jelly off themselves, only to be replaced by a gang of rent-a-cops intent on turfing our hero out of the ground. But he didn’t go quietly, managing to escape the baton-carrying boofheads for nearly half an hour before being dragged out and threatened with a lifetime ban. From Newcastle. Which is like being banned from having a broken bottle shoved up your blurter.
As the rest of the Army (there was a good turnout… did I mention we were at a football game?) filed out of the ground after the final whistle, Pooley was being dragged into his friends’ car, but he hadn’t put on enough of a performance yet. He kept on puking everywhere like that chick out of The Exorcist, so they dumped him at the nearest train station and wished him luck in not being killed on the way home. Thankfully, he made it home in one piece, which means he’ll be able to disgrace himself at plenty more games to come.
All in all, I haven’t had a night that memorable since Chad from Playing it Straight cracked onto me, and I can’t see how anyone will be able to top ‘King’ Marc Pooley’s inspirational performance. Not even if Butters chows down on another tub of butter.

After a few years in retirement, Tom steps back in for a special guest writer’s role- Enjoy.

Well, it has been a number of years, but the most infamous RA reviewer of them all has returned. I have been on a sabbatical for the past few years, but have been tempted out of retirement by KW.

The day started as most RA trips do, standing around the frozen tundra (Kingston Railway Station) at 8am, trying your best to avoid the inevitable quota of pest and menace opposition supporters that grace us. In this case, there was one particular individual who fit this category. RAGE (Raiders Army Gold Elite) quickly branded him Wonky Eye Watmough. Luckily for us, WEW was having a hard time figuring out the mechanics of the sweet machine inside the station. This incidentally had striking similarities to Homer getting his hand stuck in the vending machine. Luckily for him, he realised if you let go of the can, your hand is released WEW boarded the bus shortly after.

And we were away! You could smell the optimism that was permeating throughout the bus! That was until some cheeky little struggle and grunt that it would be nice to delivered a machine gun fart buffet (this is defined as a rapid succession of ballistic farts that hang around for an extended period, and may be revisited for another helping due to the ongoing stench).

I think this may have starved oxygen to the brain of the driver, who I think was wearing a t-shirt with the saying I am the Stig on it (that old chestnut), in addition to a cap with Captain emblazoned on it. He was only missing a bbq apron with Worlds best Dad on it. While it was good to say the driver had a high opinion of himself, and thought he may be able to smoke it through hammerhead and gambon at 100mph (see Top Gear if unsure what these terms mean), his driving was akin to the flying skills of an Garuda pilot. I counted at least three occasions where Captain Stig tried to crush cars in adjacent lanes. There was also the bizarre incident where he stopped behind a ute on the hard shoulder of the M5. Ute bloke then picked up a dead pigeon from the back of his ute, throwing it into the middle of the M5. El Capitano de Stig then pulled onto the M5 again, and we were off. This was one of the stranger incidents Ive seen on a RA bus. The only explanation I can think of is that WEW and Marko thought they could smell a smorgasboard, and asked the Stigalicious to pull over.

After taking the Clark Griswald scenic route, we arrived at Brookie at about midday. I know a lot has been said about this hovel in past reviews, but it must be said again. In my view, you can define a true shithole in two ways.

1. By the people who reside/inhabit the area.
2. By the physical characteristics of the area.

This shitpot fails on both counts. I was disappointed to see the locals of the Insular Peninsula hadn’t taken on board my description of them last time (something similar to fat, inbred, swamp donkeys). Whilst the incest and swamp donkey bit may be hard to shake, the protruding sack of fat which extends from the lower abdomen to the upper genital area of many Manly fans surely isnt.

The physical characteristics of the ground also continue to amuse. I still find it amusing for a so-called professional sport, people have to stand on a mud slope to view it. The gradient on the rear of the slope made the trek to the toilet more dangerous than negotiating the Khyber Pass. One of the victims of the Pass was a little lad, who cut himself in the process. The lad sprinted off when one RA member said Come here little boy, I want to help you. Garry Glitter has since been deported from Australia.

Anyway, everyone knows what happened in the game. The Raiders played a good five minutes, and Des Haslers side got away with the two points. Everyone trudged back to the bus, and we were on our way home.

This was an interesting bus trip home. While the bus did have a plastic throne at the rear, it was obviously not ready for the onslaught of gypsy kisses that RA members were going to inflict on it. Within an hour, it was filled to the brim, until WEW realised there was a flush peddle on the side of it (he was still trying to figure out how a lolly machine works). However, this was only a temporary reprieve. An unfortunately placed crack on the side of the throne began to leak, and soon there was a raging torrent of excreta coursing down the middle of the bus. This stopped anyone from using the toilet to syphon the python or pinch a loaf. Any attempts to flush the toilet were now stymied, as the toilet emitted a mist of piss and stench whenever it was flushed. Luckily Brave Stig pulled over, and emptied the chemical toilet into Sydneys water catchment area.

After this was done, the party was on again. WEW and his mate (a lardy version of David Howell), came down the back and joined the party. The songs were being belted out, and everyone was having a great time, except Marko. As usual, Marko had a number of ditties dedicated to him, including Nothing sweet about Marko, Markos got a chub and Thats what you get for waking up in Marko. Unfortunately the RA cocktail (piss, blood, beer) was now covering most of the floor of the bus. This didn’t concern some, and the songs continued to come.

The now shitpot on wheels finally arrived back at Kingston at 10pm. Another funny, but ultimately worthless expedition to see the Raiders have their pants pulled down, and someone do the nasty to them.

Anyway, next week the Raiders take on the Storm in Canberra. Lets hope the Raiders win, inshallah, we need it.

A great win last night, matched by an equally great review penned by our #1 Stalwart KW.

It was a great performance by the mighty green last night, and one that we have now come to expect when they face the Rabbitohs. That’s three straight away wins against the bunnies, no mean feat for a side renowned for travelling poorly. Our day kicked off at 1pm when I collected Loz, Marko and the Tarago (that’s right people, a meagre 8 die-hards made the trip north, another very disappointing turn out). A couple of quick stops later and we were on our way North (only 7 minutes after the scheduled departure time, a new RA record). In a not to be repeated mistake, I had earlier allocated the task of filling the esky to our token eastern European member Melancholy. When we reached Lake George and decided to crack the first brew, it was noted that Marko had actually put the ice in first, the beer on top of the ice and the rum cans on top of the beer. A new low for the 2008 RA member of the year. Making her RA debut was Robynne Earl, mother of former regular Tom (aka Ultra) who has moved to the top end and formed our newest chapter; RANT (RA Northern Territory). Membership of RANT doubled recently when his girlfriend joined up. Exciting times up north.

I decided to drive to the Nest to give Shaw-man a well needed rest as he would be navigating the return leg. First beers were cracked at 3pm, with everyone weary of not hitting the bottle too hard with work commitments the next day. Playing scrabble on the mobile phone has become a popular way to kill time on the drive north, and Loz, Shaw-man, Nick and Marko engaged in an epic 4 way battle. We were all a little concerned how Marko would go considering his lack of English (he was even given a 12.5 point start), but it turns out he goes alright.

It decided to rain when we made our only stop on the venture north at Pheasants Nest. A quick steak and cheese pie later and we were on our way again. Shaw-man took over the drivers seat and preceded to cut off a Toyota Starlet, the driver of which decided to display his disapproval of the maneuver with a one-fingered salute as he overtook us (it must be noted that Shaw-man did an admirable job from here on in trying circumstances). A discussion erupted regarding the Army’s patented “Believe” slogan, with Frank suggesting it be changed to “squiggly smooch”. This is why we encourage you to keep your thoughts to yourself mate. Another classic Frank moment came when we were discussing the Matt Johns affair. Frank brought a cease to the ongoing discussion by announcing in a rather soothing priest like manner “we can argue about it all night but what’s done is done”. Indeed Tank, indeed.

At the Brewery, popular RA identity Rupi produced a wad of free tickets, which were snapped up by the green faithful. Once inside the ground, the small but very vocal crew found their voice, and basically owned the cavernous stadium. It was a special night, with the cameras paying us plenty of attention. They seemed to be singling out Central Coast based regular Marc “beetelejuice” Pooley, as well as another regular in Nick “69” Townsend, who was deliberately holding his scarf upside down for some unknown reason. The banner got plenty of air play and is proving to be a great investment. Even Sean “the” Ferrari joined us for the second half, a rare treat as he normally likes to sit with the white collars on half way. In another RA first, Marko was a tad confused at the ANZ Stadium signage and somehow ended up utilising the ladies toilets instead of the blokes. His sidekick Townsend also fell for the same trap, but realised the error of his ways much earlier in the piece than our lovable Serbian.

As is now customary, the players thanked the fans by embracing them after the game. This is always a great moment and the fans were loving it. We have had some great times at ANZ Stadium and it really is starting to feel like a home away from home.

I must make mention of the efforts of two former RA Heavyweights who have now consigned themselves to the RA Reserves alongside Leethal Leeroy Clayton. Former front liner Boing shunned the pre-game drinks and preceded to view the match from the comfort of a corporate box, only showing his face at the end of the game when the players embraced the Army. Similar to Boing’s disappointing effort, Sydney based veteran Craig ‘Sully” Jensen continued his jekyll & hyde approach to supporting the Raiders in 2009, making only a token appearance at the pre-game before heading to his own corporate box and never to be seen again. A far cry from his normal position, front and centre and leading the Sydney boys into battle. No doubt both gentlemen regret missing out on the scenes of jubilation and frivolity that took place in Aisles 101-103.

Upon exiting the ground and engaging in some friendly banter with sullen faced bunnies’ fans, one particularly unenlightened individual attempted to prove to us that John Sutton deserved to be named man of the match. He was laughed at vigorously. The trip home was a little more relaxed than the usual, Marko decided to kill the atmosphere in the back row by playing trivial pursuit on his mobile for 2 hours (whether or not he actually got a single answer correct remains to be seen). At some stage someone removed basically all of the head rests from their slots and put them in the boot. Not sure why. We stopped off at a servo on King Georges road (again, not sure why) where we bumped into Canberra based journos Tim Gavel and David Packwood. As per every away trip, the under 20s side were at Sutton Forest McDonalds when we arrived there. Marko and I have a new favourite Toyota Cup player, Steve “5 cheeseburgers” Naughton, whose new nickname is pretty self explanatory. Somewhere around the Bungendore turn off we pulled into what we thought was a rest stop, but turned out to be the entrance to a farm who luckily enough were selling Horse Poo for the bargain basement price of $2 a kilo. We couldn’t believe our luck. A short time later we were saying our good byes and thinking ahead to the Sharks home game in two weeks time, and more importantly, our trip to “Fortress Brookvale” on June 21st.

As per usual, there was some lost property reported. Aimee has lost her mobile, anyone with any info should send me an email. (kw@raidersarmy.com)

Until next time, BELIEVE

KW

To everyone who is about to read this review this is my first time doing this so be gentle

My day began roughly about 11am when I landed in Mexico(Melbourne) after a nice beverage or two I was feeling pretty good. After arriving at my hotel I gave two of the army’s best a call (Nick & Katie) who were in Melbourne at the time.
I met them a pub called “Young & Jackson” if I had known the prices of the drinks down there I would of taken out a loan. The average price for a pint was $9 so going shout for shout was getting expensive but I didn’t care at the time, I was just happy I was on the ground.(I’m not a big fan of flying)

A short time later young Rick James came from work to join us, all four of us were discussing many things from the raiders chances of winning to how Nick is more of a girl cause he did more clothes shopping then Katie. Eventually Nick and Kate had to leave to catch there flight back to their homes in Sydney and young Rick James had to go back to work, as for me I just went around the town sightseeing and bar hoping. Many people were looking at me weird as if they were looking like they have never seen a green jersey in their life. One random local even stopped me in the street to ask me what team it was. [Great to see Rugby League making great inroads down there, it’s only been 11 year] After a few hours and a $9 pint or two it was time to rendezvous with Rick James. At about 6:15pm we caught the tram down to the game, it was an interesting moment to say the least when we saw a Richmond fan celebrating when his attempt to throw a water bottle into a bin from a distance missed by only 2 metres, I think that showed just how deeply entrenched the AFL culture is down here..

We arrived there just in time to see the Raiders along with that club s**t Brett Finch run over the athletics track and on to the ground. . As for the stadium it self it looks like a glorified version of Shark Park, it was at this moment I wished KW and the QBN crew were here as this joint had a resemblance to a 1968 version of Seiffert Oval. The match was underway as the ball was taken just inside the 4 metre in goal area. For the first 10 minutes we looked good the when big red scored in the corner there was just me and Rick James cheering and believing that this might be our night, could we finally snap this 13 game losing streak??. But unfortunately that was the last of our celebrations for the night as not long after Billy Slater scored off a Cameron Smith kick and then when big Lima ran straight through the middle of our defence we knew it was going to be a tough night. Half time came about and we weren’t out of the game, but really had to score first if we were any hope of beating these purple wearing News Limited Storm, the fact we were also up against a vocal home crowd would only make our task harder. The second half came along and me and Rick James were still staying through and believing that the Raiders can come back. But when Slater scored his second try of a Alan Tongue grubber deep down we knew it was over. However we refused to give up hope. The Storm then went on a scoring spree and being only two people wearing green in a sea of purple we were starting to cop a bit of stick. To the storm supporters credit most of them were really nice and friendly to us, one of the storm fans shouted out to Hinchcliffe “hey Hinchcliffe you’re playing for a real team now!” even I found the funny side of it.

Full time finally came and me and Rick James made our way to the trams. After getting on I was reminded of how sardines must feel. I finally got off near the pub the Young & Jackson and stopped in for a disappointing pint then made my way back to the hotel for the night.

I hope you enjoyed this read and it was what you expecting to read just remember everyone to still believe and don’t give up hope.

Our next home match is on this Sunday against the Warriors, I encourage everyone who can get to the ground to make the effort and support the boys. Remember people form is temporary and one win can be the trigger that starts something special, you only need to look back at 2008 to see evidence of this.

Cheers,

Frank the Tank