Nannas Home. See Also: Quest to be Striker - For the goals. And Roundup Season 3 , Roundup Season 4, Roundup Season 5, and Roundup Season 6.
Epic deeds call for epic poetry. And the Quest to Be Striker.
FIVE BRAVE NANNAS
Should you ask me of The Nannas
Of their glory and their bravery
Of their bold determination
Of their blood soaked comerad’rie
Of their scallops hung like donkeys’
Of their skill, their style, their strut?
I would speak then of an evening
Large in legend, writ in gold.
I would would tell you of a Thursday
A one car mission into history.
On that Thursday, large in lore.
Five men short, five hear the call
No goalie present, just some balls
Big as melons, swinging low.
Five brave Nannas, one car driving,
From an opening, full of lager,
Full of reefer, full of mettle.
Fate awaiting, five brave Nannas.
Little Hazey, in the child’s seat.
Dan the straight man!?! - He’s a’ drivin’
Captain Kurgen riding shotgun,
Big Jim Camper, legs a twitchin’
The Coach his boys a’ hydratin’.
To the field our brave Nans take.
Fidel the foe, as green as cake
Icing on a birthday pie.
Five brave Nannas - one car drives.
Despite the flair, the knack, the pluck
The Nans they seem shit out of luck
When Haseman wears a mighty blow
Upon his knee to send him low.
The court he leaves, and our brave boys
Where once were five, now number four.
Now you ask me of the Nannas
Did they fumble, fall and fail?
Did they scare, and shriek and wail?
Did they run like frightened children?
No! I tell you, these brave Nannas
Stood up tall and proud and forceful
Playing smart and cool and iceful
Just like pro’s, not scared of Fidel.
The Nannas fought despite the objects
Fought like tigers in a rathole
Fought as brown proud men they out to
Their just reward a goal to Cockshanks.
And though besmirt with wracking pain
He ran back on that mighty Shane
And played in goal as though was he
By our lord G-d, ordained to be.
Also mentioned in dispatches,
Big Jim Camper, like Don Johnson.
In open space and running freely
Too much time, and too much motion,
A deadly strike - close the curtain.
‘Keep on punchin’, Fidel they yelp
A loser’s cry in times of trouble
Only drove the Nannas harder
Bent them over, slapped ‘em double.
Ball bestring’d, passes pinpoint
Shots on goal, always ‘curate
Show no mercy, expect no quarter
Our five brave Nans, do it easy.
And thus the Nans, though only five,
And in one car they had to drive.
Bought a glory to their team
Five brave men, a team, did ream.
It's the Nannas coming of age I tells ya. First we had the prodigal times, beginners luck you might say, making the grand final in our first season. Then came the the difficult teenage years, petulant and boistrous, full of enthusiasm but lacking the experience, young dumb and full of cum you might say. Vying with the worst of them to be the worst of the worst, sheer weight of probability the only thing getting us into the finals(ie 4 out of 5 teams make it), lucky we have a sense of humour and comeraderie, because brothers who've died together live forever together in a dead brotherhood of fallen comerades. But lately the Nannas have become a team of men. A team of hairy backed blokes who can mix it with the best of them. A team of big handed lads who can build houses and drive racing cars. A team of Barrel Chest fellas with kids and mortgages and funerals to arrange. And this week it was the funeral of bunch of freshers called Fidel. Talk about Green, this team was the Nannas seven seasons ago before our balls dropped into the giant dangling scallops that now hang between our chunked up testosterone laden legs getting in the way of our masculine knees. So we schooled these green newbies to the tune of ten goals to one (which was a charity penalty too I might add). And then the Nans turned right around and went the semi-final rematch against the dirty old scum sucking Wasted Youth - who everyone was happy to hear lost their grand final to the Barrel Riders. Ok we lost but it was our second game in a row and we still took it to them.
And the Quest to Be Striker? Is it all over after the first game? Has the man they now call The Finisher finished all comers in the first round?
Well where to now for the Nannas? No longer in danger of being the worst of the worst, I reckon we're pretty close to top of the ladder in D1 division, yep D1 not D2, there's a whole bunch of losers below us in D2 vying to be worst of the worst, and for me this represents a big step up time for the Nannas. This is our call to arms, this is our season, this is our chance to hold the premiers trophy high above our heads and sing the Nannas theme song in a drunken slur at the Chief after 30 jugs. I know you've all dreamed of pulling the Nannas special dance after scoring a goal (you know the one were you make like you've got the opposition bent over and your riding them and slapping them on the back of the head and not even giving them the common courtesy of the reach around), but you've never really felt dominant enough, well this is the season my brothers, this is our chance to dance and take the game by the scruff of the neck and make it our own.
Step up my manly Nannas, our time is at hand.
Coach out