30/08/2026
📣🇮🇹MUZ MAGIC AT MAGIC BUYS MAGICAL TICKET TO THE BIG DANCE🇮🇹📣
Wow. Just wow. Against all odds. Defying fate itself. Your older blues. Your decrepit colonoscopy regulars have pulled off one of the most unfathomable wins in the history of events that could not be fathomed and somehow, SOMEHOW, find themselves in the grand final this week.
There is a certain feeling that comes to you on a Friday night. It creeps into your subconscious, it’s at the edge of your mind, you can’t quite grasp it, but you know it’s there. Like an old friend you can’t wait to catch up with, you yearn for what could be. With this thought in their minds your older blues arrived early for the holiest day of all, Friday night finals football. Coming into this finals fixture your out of form and out of players Blues were faced with an extra fit and the most inform team in the competition Broadmeadow Magic. Your Blues were given less than no chance to win and the Magic players were over heard booking the bus to Tomaree for next week. Why Tomaree you ask? Great question, I mean surely there’s a ground closer? Ludicrous.
With kick off approaching your blues had just heard the news that Michael Clay had succumbed to being unable to play. He joined Danilo Sciulli and Matt WARDY on the sideline. Devastating news but also it turns out he is very good at strapping ankles. Dominic Sneesby was late as usual, but Ray Geoghegan was a more than adequate fill in and his genius was clear to see from the warm up onwards.
Your blues started well. Not long after kick off some brilliant work from Peter Murray and Dan Sneesby saw Dan whip in a delightful cross, punched out by the goalkeeper it found the luscious and gorgeous Thom Kane on the edge of the box, but he just couldn’t find the back of the net. Your blues smelt blood and Dan Sneesby, back in the starting line up looking greyer than a grayscale image of a grey goose, was at it again, he put immense pressure on the goal keeper as he went to take a goal kick. Storming down the left Dan tried to hit the scuffed goal kick first time but could only hit his shot very wide resulting in a goal kick.
Up the other end Magic had Roger. Roger’s pretty good. But unfortunately for Mr Ramjet he was up against a resolute defence. Mark Price and Robert Tringham were absolutely sensational in the middle and quickly snuffed out whenever their striker tried to give them a Rogering. Supported by Elliot DP on the right and Stevan Purlija on the left, your Blues were as solid as the Lloyds Bank Coprolite.
Jon Griffiths, the Hashimoto Hero, was put up top in this huge clash. It was an inspired decision and he soon connected with Niall “the Irish Smile” Munroe down the right. Griff whipped in a sensational cross to his brother in law Dan at the back post. All he had to do was hit a first time volley to get the blues in front, but being the Scrooge at Griffmas, he declined the gift and shanked the ball over the bar.
The game set into a rhythm, like a sweet beat by Dj Rayza. Your blues had the lions share of possession with Magic trying to hit on the counter. A long ball from Dom’s step dad ended up being cleaned up by the delightful Tringles. A quick pass to his left found a ridiculously in form Mark Price. Pricey has missed the last two grand finals with concussion and a missing gall bladder, so the bearded builder was as desperate as a double texter who’d been left on read, to get a ticket to the big dance. Taking his first touch forward he immediately played the ball down the middle of the pitch to Steven Krause just on the half way circle. With his back to goal our special K pulled off his trademark triple K turn to beat his man and move towards half way. Looking up he spotted who else but Griff. Fresh after returning from a few weeks off after a poorly timed romantic weekend and a state body boarding competition, Griff was looking sharp. Krausey saw griff galloping down the left and put the ball on his toe. Griff tore towards the box, the devastated screams of his former Broadmeadow fans echoing through the night sky. As he got to the left corner of the box the goal keeper and defender were bearing down on him. Griff decided to take the urine. Faking the shot, griff pulled the ball back, goal keeper and defender flopped on the ground like dying fish, Griff turned and winked at the crowd before curling the ball into the far corner of the net to send Lachy and Evie into absolute pandemonium. 1-0 and what a finish from Newcastles best Trots Trainer.
Elliot. The battler. Never has there been a player who looks so cactus from kick off but just keeps battling on. Normally known for rising high like a Saguaro cactus in the Mexican sun, Elliot is also famous for his Beckenbaueresque runs forward. The English Muffin received the ball at right back just before halfway and started off on one of his little adventures. He beat one, beat another, then beat the first one again, as he made his way towards the box. Spotting Krausey he decided to slightly not hit the pass quite right to create confusion. It worked a treat as the ball pin balled around the edge of the box before finding Thom Kane. With a face known to impact weather patterns with increased moisture, Teeksy laid the ball back to a waiting Peter Murray 35m out from goal. Oh Peter Murray. Our Peter Murray. With his feet always kept soft and warm, as Muz always wears his trusty uggboots, even to weddings, they are in prime condition. As the ball travelled towards him his eyes lit up. He took one touch. Muz knocked the ball into his instep and his pristine right foot smacked into the faux leather sphere of glory. It felt like the ball was in the air for 10 minutes. It seemed to float like Charlie and the evil Grandpa Joe on the Fizzy Lifting Drinks in Wonkas factory. The crowd, the bench, the goal keeper, everyone was on their feet. The goal keeper leapt…. He couldn’t quite get there. The ball kept floating. Dom sat and stood back up again. Then, the poor spider living in the top corner had its family home destroyed as the ball made its way through its webbed lounge room and into the back of the net. What. A. Goal. Already likely to come second place in goal of the year, with a few attributes missing to take top spot outright, everyone’s favourite player and human Muz had put your Blues up 2-0. Honestly one of the best goals a blue has ever scored.
2-0 and looking good. Or were they? We forgot about Roger. Can’t forget Roger. Roger was put through, likely offside but that’s ok. He got into the box and unleashed a toe-poke that was as toey as a 90s teenager who’d just found a bunch of magazines under dad’s bed. A certain goal was incoming, but alas, Mitchy Sharpe superbly dove to his left and pulled off a sensational fingertip save to keep your Blues ahead.
Niall Munroe was a constant threat. Combining with Griff time and again he showed why Gaelic football is the true breeding ground of over 35s talent. It was one of Niall’s non-protesting crosses that was cleared and sent up the other end. Mopped up by Tringles, yet again, he put the ball to left back Stevan Purlija. Puj’s plantar fascia currently looks as torn and shredded as a Thom Kane shirt when he accidentally wanders into a hens party. But he battles on, they make them differently in Montenegro, we imagine. Driving forward down the left he was almost at the half way line when from seemingly nowhere he launched the ball down the middle of the pitch. It was outrageous. It was audacious. It was inch perfect. Darting down the middle of the pitch was Steven Krause. Azzurri’s favourite Filipino was about to make the blues scream FilipinYES as he followed the flight of the ball into the box. The goal keeper came out, but it was all in vain. Krausey stretched out his foot and with a touch more delicate than Frédéric Chopin stroking the ivory at the Musée de la Vie Romantique, he took the ball on the full and caressed it past the goal keeper. He still had time to make certain of it, but it had already been an exhausting run so he joined the rest of the blues in watching the ball cross the line and extend your blues lead. Krausey celebrated with a strange clicking throat sound which is apparently his mating call to the love of his life. What a goal. What a guy. There was never any doubt, as we say, safe as Krauses.
3-0. Cruising. On came Rob Broadhurst and Peter Petryk. They made an immediate impact combining beautifully and looking very handsome. Petryk’s experience was there to see, as he used his big Ukrainian frame to bring the ball down and feed the ever hungry Rob.
Half time. 3-0… surely nothing could go wrong from here. Surely it was game over?
The second half started with Matthew Catford and Dan Sneesby brought on. They quickly stamped their authority on the game with Catty delighting the crowd with his touch that makes silk worms look like sandpaper worms. He immediately sent Dan Sneesby through on goal only for the gaol farewell shower enthusiast to be unceremoniously taken down in the box. The whistle remained silent.
Puj went off injured. They scored 2 goals. 3-2. Blues. In. Trouble. Strife. They needed a hero. They needed Jim Snoz. But he didn’t really do much. A few slides that were worthy of a card but was innocent. But wasted time pretty well before going off injured not long after. They needed, another hero.
Magic started peppering the blues like an old man on his Sunday roast. Your Blues were holding on. Enter, Michael Ross. Little Miss MissShine has been tragically struck down with an MCL injury but will not stay away. His class is permanent though and he was immediately down the left wing causing mischief. He linked with the beautiful Peter Murray, then Catty, before eventually Peter Petryk slipped the ball back to Rossi. He was about to score a certain goal when, WHACK, assault in the street, he was taken out in the box. Once again. The whistle remained silent. Wow.
Then. Trouble. The ball breaks for Magic. They have two on one. Tringles the loan ranger. They charged towards goal. It would take a super human effort to stop this goal. It would take, a super Scotsman. Making his decision and wearing a kilt for a cape, he screamed in gibberish (though could have been Scottish) and pulled off one of the finest slide tackles of all time. Some would say the tackle was as good as a goal, in fact Tringles said that himself. Literally those words.
Then. Trouble again. The other guy, not Roger, he had like hair that you couldn’t tell if it was bleached or grey, it would make sense if it was grey but can’t be sure. Anyway, that guy was through on goal. Time to score the equaliser. Time to be Magic’s hero. Not tonight bleachy. Mitch sharpe sprinted with all the power his little legs could muster and met the striker on the edge of the box before pulling off a simply outrageous one handed save to deny a certain equaliser.
From then on it was backs against the wall. Griff and Rossi were brilliant down the left holding the ball up, getting in little wrestles, just simply superb time wasting. Peter Murray was, well, Peter Murray. Everywhere and anywhere he was needed. Rob came on and delighted the crowd by doing his famous seal impression bouncing the ball on his head down the sideline. Rob got to the corner, all he had to do was hold it and the game was won. But he brilliantly tried to cross it. Unfortunately straight to a defender. They launched one last counter attack. There to meet the attacker though, Niall Munroe. Niall used his huge frame and Irish know how to sensationally win the ball and put it out for a throw in. One last chance. One throw to rule them all. They threw the ball out.
Game over
3-2.
Your Blues are in the BIG DANCE!
Unfortunately. It’s in Tomaree. So none of the thousands of supporters will travel because, well, that’s pretty far away and a little bit annoying.
What a season it’s been so far, Premiers, got to play an extra game in finals (thus utilising registration fees to the full) and now the Grand Final.
MOTM: No walls were assaulted by shoes this evening as Peter Murray took away the honours with a simply sensational performance, capped off with what can only be described as a wonder goal.
Corey Taylor, second oldest Azzurrian, truck driver of the year and all round legend had this to say “Beeeeeeep beeeeeeeeeppppp! (Thats a truck horn we think) Obviously very sad not to be there but trucks need truckin, and if anyone is truckin a truck it better truckin be me haha. Anyway who puts a game on 6pm at Tomaree? Crazy times. Obviously I need to feed the nation so that won’t work for me. Congrats to everyone. Obviously I expect better from Dan and Rossi, but honestly, what a season. Love you all and as always, keep on truckin’. Truck yeah!”
Grazie C***a 🇮🇹
Grand final
4th September
1800
Tomaree Fields
