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Don't put the Bears in Gosford
By Nick Walshaw | December 11, 2008 12:00am
EVEN poor ol' Matt wants to get rid of his sock. Signed by Jason Taylor, it sits among a sorry eBay collection of Northern Eagles merchandise, memorabilia and musty used clothes.
There's the team poster set for $3.99. A plush mascot for eight bucks. Two beanies, two caps and a range of other knick-knacks all waiting around like ugly callgirls on a rainy, Tuesday night.
And then there's the sock.
Go on, have a look. It'll still be there today. Tomorrow too. The one JT signed To Matt some six years ago now being offered up for $49. Good luck.
Because up on the Central Coast at least, the Northern Eagles remain a dirtier phrase than "Attention CityRail passengers ...''
Here by Brisbane Water, the Beagles will always be a farce. A joke. Greatest con since The Crying Game. Because here was a club which sold itself as a Central Coast team. This despite working out of Manly, training out of Hornsby and wearing more colours than a Passion Pop hurl.
Like a pesky Avon lady, simply appearing every couple of months to ring your doorbell and take your cash. And now you Sydneysiders want to put this sick joke on us Coasties all over again. For almost a month now, talk has been building around a supposed push to move the North Sydney Bears up the F3 to Central Coast Stadium.
Suggesting that when NRL boss David Gallop again talks expansion - something he recently refused to do in the foreseeable future - it should be the Bears.
Put simply, shifting the Bears to Gosford would be a toxic dumping of Hazmat proportions. So bad, dreadlocked women would start chaining themselves to those Central Coast Stadium palm trees by their underarm hair.
Why? Because there is just no mystical love affair between the Bears and the Central Coast. Up here Norths are simply the bumbling mess who've won ... NOTHING in 86 years. Who tried to come here - twice - and still botched it up.
So c'mon, why stop with the Bears, Sydney? Why not send us Parramatta Road traffic snarls. Or George Street glassings. Hell, maybe you could ship us that dodgy Leichhardt Oval toilet block with Corey Worthington inside.
Or how's this for an idea? If the Central Coast truly deserves an NRL team, why not just give us one? Name, colours, drunk superstars, the lot.
Like when the Northern Spirit soccer club folded in 2004, coach Lawrie McKinna and nine of his players moving to the Central Coast for a new start. Moving with no money. No connections. Nothing.
"And if we'd stuck with a name like Northern Spirit,'' says Central Mariners boss Lyle Gorman, "we'd still be struggling.''
Four years on and the Mariners now boast the support of Sheffield United owner Kevin McCabe, a database of 60,000 players and plans for a new $60million training complex at Tuggerah. Acting global, thinking local.
It's why every Monday they're still in schools. Every Tuesday conducting clinics at one of the Coast's 22 clubs. So committed, the running joke suggests that if your school fete only attracts three people, you can be sure one of them is a Mariner.
This is about refusing to take your community for granted. Like McKinna hosting fan barbecues in his backyard or Gorman conducting studies into the disproportionate youth suicide rate. Why, when an alcohol company recently offered $1.3million as front-of-jersey sponsor, they said no.
Because take the tip, the Central Coast isn't part of North Sydney. Ben Ikin never skated at Froggy's. Gary Larson never ate Wombi Whoppers. And we're pretty sure the late, great Ken Irvine never hurled a can of VB at Dieter Brummer inside Club Troppo.
Which isn't to suggest Bears legend Greg Florimo shouldn't continue his push to have an NRL team on the Coast. He should.
Get Singo involved. Appoint Dave Fairleigh as coach. Then rediscover that next wave of Mark O'Meleys, Matt Orfords and Ian Hendersons.
They should even buy Matt's sock off eBay ... keep it as a permanent reminder of what doesn't work up here.
By Nick Walshaw | December 11, 2008 12:00am
EVEN poor ol' Matt wants to get rid of his sock. Signed by Jason Taylor, it sits among a sorry eBay collection of Northern Eagles merchandise, memorabilia and musty used clothes.
There's the team poster set for $3.99. A plush mascot for eight bucks. Two beanies, two caps and a range of other knick-knacks all waiting around like ugly callgirls on a rainy, Tuesday night.
And then there's the sock.
Go on, have a look. It'll still be there today. Tomorrow too. The one JT signed To Matt some six years ago now being offered up for $49. Good luck.
Because up on the Central Coast at least, the Northern Eagles remain a dirtier phrase than "Attention CityRail passengers ...''
Here by Brisbane Water, the Beagles will always be a farce. A joke. Greatest con since The Crying Game. Because here was a club which sold itself as a Central Coast team. This despite working out of Manly, training out of Hornsby and wearing more colours than a Passion Pop hurl.
Like a pesky Avon lady, simply appearing every couple of months to ring your doorbell and take your cash. And now you Sydneysiders want to put this sick joke on us Coasties all over again. For almost a month now, talk has been building around a supposed push to move the North Sydney Bears up the F3 to Central Coast Stadium.
Suggesting that when NRL boss David Gallop again talks expansion - something he recently refused to do in the foreseeable future - it should be the Bears.
Put simply, shifting the Bears to Gosford would be a toxic dumping of Hazmat proportions. So bad, dreadlocked women would start chaining themselves to those Central Coast Stadium palm trees by their underarm hair.
Why? Because there is just no mystical love affair between the Bears and the Central Coast. Up here Norths are simply the bumbling mess who've won ... NOTHING in 86 years. Who tried to come here - twice - and still botched it up.
So c'mon, why stop with the Bears, Sydney? Why not send us Parramatta Road traffic snarls. Or George Street glassings. Hell, maybe you could ship us that dodgy Leichhardt Oval toilet block with Corey Worthington inside.
Or how's this for an idea? If the Central Coast truly deserves an NRL team, why not just give us one? Name, colours, drunk superstars, the lot.
Like when the Northern Spirit soccer club folded in 2004, coach Lawrie McKinna and nine of his players moving to the Central Coast for a new start. Moving with no money. No connections. Nothing.
"And if we'd stuck with a name like Northern Spirit,'' says Central Mariners boss Lyle Gorman, "we'd still be struggling.''
Four years on and the Mariners now boast the support of Sheffield United owner Kevin McCabe, a database of 60,000 players and plans for a new $60million training complex at Tuggerah. Acting global, thinking local.
It's why every Monday they're still in schools. Every Tuesday conducting clinics at one of the Coast's 22 clubs. So committed, the running joke suggests that if your school fete only attracts three people, you can be sure one of them is a Mariner.
This is about refusing to take your community for granted. Like McKinna hosting fan barbecues in his backyard or Gorman conducting studies into the disproportionate youth suicide rate. Why, when an alcohol company recently offered $1.3million as front-of-jersey sponsor, they said no.
Because take the tip, the Central Coast isn't part of North Sydney. Ben Ikin never skated at Froggy's. Gary Larson never ate Wombi Whoppers. And we're pretty sure the late, great Ken Irvine never hurled a can of VB at Dieter Brummer inside Club Troppo.
Which isn't to suggest Bears legend Greg Florimo shouldn't continue his push to have an NRL team on the Coast. He should.
Get Singo involved. Appoint Dave Fairleigh as coach. Then rediscover that next wave of Mark O'Meleys, Matt Orfords and Ian Hendersons.
They should even buy Matt's sock off eBay ... keep it as a permanent reminder of what doesn't work up here.
