A big thankyou to Toby who marked his review writing debut with this brilliant piece, well in mate. 

“Are We There Yet” Tour – Roosters Rd 2

The first Sydney bus of 2009 started off in a typical manner with Jed, the supposedly ever reliable scheduling manager, the last to arrive at the meeting place - Central Station. With the Sydney boys (and Vanessa) waiting for Jed and Nat to arrive, conversation centered upon the derelict nature of the folk prancing (or stumbling) around Central early on an early Sunday morning. Whilst waiting in anticipation for a meeting with our good mate, ‘Oz Blotto’, Nick almost contracted a severe case of food poisoning thanks to week-old green chips at the surprisingly busy Hungry Jacks. He spent the morning scurrying around Central telling absolutely everybody not to put their lives in danger, ‘stay away from the chips’ was the call from the highly regarded, Raider_69. The trip was off to an absolutely blistering start.

When Super Jed finally arrived, we headed to Eddy Avenue to try and find our ‘bus’. A few of our more inexperienced members got a little excited thinking that we would be boarding a luxurious Murrays bus, only to be pointed towards our cozy 24 seater. Once aboard the bus (at an unbelievable time of 8.52) the mocking began, about both people on and off the bus. Benny Taylor’s elephant washing old man got a workout, as did Soulsy’s chant writing capabilities as ‘We are the music men’ quickly became the theme of the trip. And then, just as we got past the airport, Jeffrey (bus driver) began his routine - and didn’t he have some classics. Between declaring himself a Roosters supporter and warning us to look out for jet skis on Lake George, the bloke had us in absolute stitches; we all often wondered whether he had another job as a stand-up comedian.

After a toilet stop for Rupi’s bladder about 10 minutes into the trip, we continued our pilgrimage south-west. I would say that at this stage spirits were high – this was not to last. The patrons on the bus began to get mighty edgy with Jeff cracking along the Hume at a mighty 70km’s an hour, little did we know if we missed the match it would of actually been to our benefit. We started taking bets about whether cars or other buses would catch our bus, but the bet of the day went to Sully who tipped we would not take over the truck in front of us. As it turned out, the truck left the highway around Marulen but beat us to the overpass in what can only be called a photo finish. We actually were that bored of our slow and scenic Sunday drive that the betting rings exploded. Rupi was a machine and was splashing virtual dollars all over the bus, Craig was as animated as I have ever seen him and Nick clambered all over the back window like an excited school-girl, knees on seats, watching for five minutes at a time whether the blue Subaru in the distance would actually catch the bus – scintillating stuff! Jeff sensed we were slowly getting tired of his Purtell like speed and assured us it was the bus and not he, who lacked the courage, heart and capacity to give the bus some ‘curry’.

We drew closer and closer to Canberra and the nerves had started to set in. To fire up the patrons Craig demanded some 104.7 as soon as we were in reach of Canberra frequency. The music debates started to rage… Nick rabbitted on about some band called Trapt and then some new band coming out of Sydney’s suburbs namely titled as ‘The Existence’. The amount of people on the bus, myself included, who had that album was remarkable. Check them out! The tunes rolled on resulting in the bus coming alive during the Veronicas. Special mention again goes to Rupi as he especially perked up every time a Chris Brown sing-a-like came on the bus’ pounding speakers but I won’t lie, I was loving the charts. I tried to hide my pleasure when Beyonce came on, so as to protect any shreds of musical integrity I had after dancing in the aisle to those slutty Brisbanites, but the lyrics just spewed out of my mouth. Ben and Vanessa were both deeply embarrassed for me and have since deleted me off facebook, Maslin style.

We finally made the Lighthouse and I think everyone was pretty desperate for an ale considering the tedious journey we had just had on the way down. Marko was already off-chops and was stumbling all over the pub, absolutely disgraceful; there sure is nothing sweet about that critter. I approached the self-proclaimed Raiders Army stalwart KW but was told to approach his publicist if I wanted to speak to the hero face-to-face. I couldn’t be bothered – there was prawn and avocado pizza to be eaten. I had to get in quick in fear Frank would turn up at any stage (btw, where was Frank). The danger was right in front of me though. Paul ‘The Pie Eater’ Henson had already tucked away his 8 pizzas leaving zilch for the travel weary Sydney-siders. I think some lovely Q-town representative offered me a crust at some stage, thanks for that. The VB’s were flowing however and the Sydney boys (and Vanessa and Nat) were starting to find their feet, confidence was high.

We left the lighthouse approx 1.15, Nazi Nick would not even let us visit the facilities and with Aaron downing his 6 schooners he had just purchased and Rupi smashing down his Scotch and Soda, we were on our way. The troops had been round up and were marched to our jalopy of a bus; we were finally on our way to the stadium. Jeff was still blabbering on about the jet skis and poor old Ben was desperately trying to rally some assistance to start up a chant but had little success – it seemed that nerves were high. Knowing he had little assistance, he went for it anyway and the bus came alive with a few renditions of the mighty ‘mental and mad’ army classic, we were getting pumped.

Pre-warning from some GH experts about some road closures didn’t stop the whole bus sending Jeff the wrong way, demanding he go right. We all we soon found out we would have to turn around if we wanted to get onto the Eastern Side – Jeff threw the bus into reverse and tried again. After blitzing through security and screaming down the left hand ‘VIP’ lane, we could taste the footy, it was time. Or was it? Those of us with Season Ticket-Holders (thanks K-Dub) strolled through the gates but the other boys + ticket organiser Nick had to scamper around the whole stadium as the $15 tickets had been stored at the players entrance. Nick was absolutely thrilled.

Not to dwell, the game was almost underway and the giant RA banner was unveiled… and wasn’t it beautiful! It bought a tear to my eye, but this not because it was beautiful, but rather through the ensuing comedic proceedings. The banner was sprawled from one length of Bay 72 to the other; about 7 men were equally spaced, trying to hold up the monster. Boing was to the go to man on the right-hand side but he quickly relieved himself of any duties, giving the banner to a kid about 6 who found it an immense struggle. I am not sure how you can get tangled in a rectangular banner but this kid managed to get himself into a real mess. Soulsy jumped down and thankfully helped out, the kid sprinting away, hating whoever this group called the Raiders Army was and was never to be seen again.

After a beautiful minutes silence for Raiders Founding Father and absolute legend Les McIntyre R.I.P. it was time for the Raiders to pluck those Roosters – game on. A few penalties early gave us great field possession and a chance to open the account with Purtell finding space down the left hand flank, only to find it without the ball in hand. Right in front of the Army, a huge opportunity went missing. I still believe that if he had caught that ball it would have been a totally different match. The game quickly turned into an insanely boring slug-fest, the Roosters eventually going into half time 4 points up. Members of the Army were starting to get worried; we hadn’t seen the Green Machine score a point for 80 minutes. On the positive side of things, Jarrod Croker, who was on debut in place of Phil Graham, played a very solid and positive first half of football. He ended up having a tremendous match considering the circumstances, well done to you Jarrod Croker.

Half-time had to be the highlight of the whole day. A Local Liquor representative came and asked for three of the RA’s finest to go onto the field at halftime to compete in a competition - the prize being getting a gig in a Local Liquor commercial. Marc Pooley, Ben Ross and cult hero/resident photographer Eric Wu were nominated as our three finest gentlemen and so it was, let the competition begin. The aim of the competition was to yell out Local Liquor’s catch phrase ‘Shoot Down to the Local’ and didn’t the boys do us proud. Ben ‘Beanie’ Ross was first to compete and his attempt was solid, it was going to be hard to beat. Pooley was next and was sure to tell the stadium that he had ventured all the way down from the Central Coast. You could feel the whole stadium grimace at that moment; it was a long way to come for a performance like the one we were seeing. Pooley’s cry was energetic and full of passion; I think he may have just taken the lead at this stage. But what was next was something magical. One of those once-in-a-lifetime kind of experiences - hearing the Wu man’s excitable tone reverberate around Canberra Stadium. ‘Shoot down to your local’ was the cry, not 100% accurate but it didn’t matter - the crowd went ballistic for Eric. It seems as if the RA now had to share their cult hero with the rest of the Raiders faithful. The secret is out! Eric Wu is a god amongst men! I for one am waiting in anticipation for that commercial, with all three candidates likely to star… wowee.

I will not waste your time to tell you about THAT second half, it really was quite terrible. To make matters worse we had lost Buttriss and Thompson for the rest of the match, and in knowledge, a long stint on the sidelines. It wasn’t a pretty afternoon. We scored a fairly weak consolation try on the buzzer which meant that we continued our ‘mighty’ record of never being held to nil at Bruce Stadium but it was beneficial to me as Bronson Harrison is in my fantasy league (top scorer by the way, get on it). Final Score – Roosters 28, Raiders 4… it was going to be a very long trip back up the Hume.

We then spent the next hour trying to find everyone, for some bizarre reason, the bus was waiting on the wrong side of the stadium. The call from Jed to meet under the infamous nose of Laurie Daley was a little too late. Patrons had already stormed off in a huff, wondering why they bothered putting in the effort only for it not to be reciprocated by the Raiders themselves.

Once aboard the bus, we began our long trip back towards Sydney town. The atmosphere on the bus was one of defeat, of worry and of misery. A few patrons, who want be named, ditched the return leg in the knowledge the bus would be in some state of mourning and they were right. After a few desperate sounding chants everyone plugged themselves into their iPod’s and tried to sleep off the pain. Jeff had promised us some goodies upon his return from Fyshwick but what he had in store for us no one could have predicted. The nature of the match and the resulting mood of the bus-trip had many of us posing the question, ‘are we there yet?’ and didn’t Jeff read the mood well! It was movie time, the film of choice? Some trashy American film aptly named, ‘Are We There Yet?’ – you have got to be kidding. I won’t lie – it was probably the worst film I had ever seen.

After talking Craig down from suicidal thoughts it was time for a Macca’s stop in the beautiful town of Goulburn. After making the employees the butt of a thousand Todd Carney jokes and asking travelling Roosters fans where their man ‘Mario’ was it was time to head off again. We all had a laugh reminiscing about the Benny Taylor incidents and wondering how clean his elephants were – ah, at least we wouldn’t leave anyone behind again… would we? With Nick not on board I was the designated counter – 1, 2, 3… 20… we were one man down. How could this happen again? Panic was rife! Where had our latest casualty gone? What had fueled my terror was that I hadn’t seen any pensioners inside, there was nowhere to go, no other buses to get on and still we had lost a man. I shouldn’t have feared, striding out from beneath the golden arches was the reliably late Supercoach (unsure of real name). It wasn’t the first time he had nearly been left behind, it happened on multiple counts. All on deck, it was time to get back to Central.

We arrived back at Central approx 8.30 to a relieved cheer and a discussion with Jeff about his ‘Hot Rod’. It sure was time to get home…

Are we there yet? Yes, thank ****! We were finally home.

Oh, and a side mention…. If the Raiders make the top 8 this year, Jamie (Mohawk) has promised to get a Raiders Army tattoo over his heart as heard on the bus. His dedication puts me to shame. Special mention also goes to Rupi who got a leave pass from his winning cricket side to fill a vacant seat on the bus, well in mate.

Just a reminder… get out to Parramatta Stadium this Saturday night. We will be meeting in the Parra Leagues Club next door before the match and once inside will be seated in the Northern Terrace section (General Admission). Support your club through thick and thin. Let’s help the boys get their first win of the season, get to the game!

Until next time,

Believe

Toby.

*Portions of this review, not affecting the outcome, may have been edited for entertainment purposes only.