Tell ‘Em They’re Dreaming

A guest post from jLo, Ficklish (www.ficklish.blogspot.com )(I am too drunk to work out the code)

I can only assume that I was asked to write this because, as a veteran of many First Day Stacks myself, I have a unique appreciation of the specific challenges involved. Of course, I always regarded The Stack as an art form – an homage, if you will – to be approached with humility and reverence rather than as a shameless, desperate vehicle for short lived, empty glory.

(Sigh). I don’t know. Kids today – they’ve got no respect.

Having said this, I have studied the analysis on these pages carefully and will be following the progress of these brave fellows with interest. I haven’t been there for the so-called ‘warm-up’ events, however I don’t regard this as a problem in terms of offering thoughts on their prospects. The Gabba Stack-A-Thon is a bit like the Melbourne Cup, in my opinion, in that past form means little in an event of this calibre. Many are called, few are chosen, and the darkest horse might just be worth a shot.

I do know the competitors. Some of them I’ve known their whole lives, others since the days they were throwing West Coast Wine Coolers down their teenage throats in a dodgy Ormiston car park. I’ve seen all of these gentlemen in action, and it’s safe to say I’m never been particularly impressed.

What I propose to do is to offer you a thought or two on each of the combatants, giving you a unique insight into their potential weaknesses and judging them according to their worth, rather than their ability.

Team LoveTrain

Captain Kloss

I find it very intriguing that glossary of this website specifically refers to a particularly significant event in both Gabba history and Lovell family lore: the day Dean Jones scored 145 on the hallowed turf. It may interest readers to know that we were all there on that memorable occasion, and Kloss slept right through it. It is his secret shame. Deep down inside, Kloss is still trying to atone for his sins against the Gabba. Guilt can be a powerful motivator, but in this case I suspect the stain will be too hard to scrub away.

Bill-A-Tron

Like the Captain, young Billatron has a lot at stake in this competition. The significance of this being his official Last Hurrah before he departs for foreign lands cannot be underestimated. I fear that, despite his form, he will try too damn hard to make this the performance of his life, rather than just letting his natural ability and excellent conditioning do the work. The choke is a real risk here. It might just be too much for him.

The ‘A’ Team

Loses points right off the bat for the name. Seriously, you guys. Glassed.

Dav Ross

Or, “Sir Pelican”, as he is known to some, namely me. His primary weakness, as far as I have been able to observe, is an apparently insurmountable vulnerability to high-quality sass. I once observed this fatal flaw during a particularly cut-throat Trivial Pursuit tournament: it was pitiful and not a little tragic to watch him disintegrate into meltdown as the mockery and piss-taking reached critical levels. I can only hope that he has worked on this aspect of his game, otherwise god help him when the Love train rolls in.

Sir Rhyso

Here’s the thing about Rhys: He is a steady and reliable performer who gets the job done. He may be a FUC, but he rarely pikes and gets karma points from me because he is the only one of the whole stinking bunch who bothered to visit me when I lived in Our Nation’s Capital. Good on you, Sir Rhyso. The force will be with you, always. The only weakness I can identify is that the Gabba sun may wreak havoc upon his sensitive alabaster skin.

Team NotmuchofaChance

The Ayatollah

I don’t know about you lot, but I have always been under the impression that Ayatollahs don’t drink. It certainly looks like he’s having some sort of crisis of faith in his official team photograph, in which case let me caution the punters on the basis that such emotional and spiritual instability may be a serious liability. Further, I have observed that Mr Tunn cannot resist wading into arguments he has no chance of winning, and the other teams will be well advised to employ this tool to throw the Ayatollah off his game. A risky bet, in my opinion but one I've taken in the past. (He pashes like a dream)

The Substitutes

They’re in Team NotmuchofaChance. Enough said.

That’s all I’ve got for now, kids. I’ll offer comments on the progress reports as they roll in. The only prediction I can make with complete confidence is that cricket (and beer) will be the winner on the day. And that’s just as it should be.