Match Reports

Round 5 (28th May 2023 – The Truth Edition)

Supers v Rossmoyne Rhinos

The atmosphere was electric on a hot autumn day to kick off round 5 against Rossmoyne Rams.

Cleary the respective uniform departments hadn’t communicated as both teams arrived in matching black on black shorts and jumper combos. This led to calls for Wembley to play in “skins” which Bassie promptly adhered too, ripping off his jumper to reveal his American muscle and work on a “late summer tan”. But alas, it was all jokes, as the Wembley boys actually had reversible jumpers, much to Bassie’s dismay.

The first quarter was a heated contest with Scotty, Drew and Danners starting in the centre, working hard on clearances to win some inside-50 ascendancy that resulted in some hard fought goals for Wembley, including one on the run from yours truly after a couple of sloppy bounces. Drew was a welcome return, slotting in seamlessly for the absent Brockie and running some straight lines with crisp delivery into the forward line after Jodhas respectful challenge on “hitting targets”. But despite some positives, Rossmoyne transitioned the ball through the middle with ease and it was only due to a monstrous effort from the backline that prevented Rossmoyne from putting on score board pressure.

In a backline with the noticeable absences of Burgo and Abba (who coincidently appears to be opting for Masters in a worrying trend) the likes of Al, Crackers, Dol and Chidsey withstood plenty of inside50’s to negate all forward thrusts. Adam was next level ferocious with his attack on the ball which turned some of the Rams into lambs [ed: noice, good to see the literary standards on the way up].

At quarter time the message from Coach Jodha was simple – “Get the talk up”

The second quarter started with the sun beating hard and early fatigue setting in, reminiscent of legs running in water…. That is unless you’re Kim and Gus on the wings. The two speedsters moved like greyhounds, with the Sherrin their rabbit. Crashing packs, running back with the flight and bagging snags looked easy for these two.

Speaking of rabbits, Rob continued to pull a few out of the hat with some dashing pace and slight touch of leather poisoning… he continued to wrack them up and mesmerise the unassuming Rams with some silky moves along with a couple of goals to boot.

Half time the message from coach Jodha was simple – stay poised and “pick up the voice”.

The second half started to unravel for the Rams as the Wembley flood gates sent them to the bottom of the dam [ed: obviously Tom has a subscription to metaphors-r-us]. Brad was solid up forward, snaring goals against a mismatched opponent at times and Marcus was looking sprightly… until he wasn’t. Falling victim to the dreaded Hammy. Craig’s midweek curry was doing wonders for his courage and Plonk was a welcome return up forward even with the goal kicking accuracy of a blind Harry McKay.

A third quarter highlight was the physical attack from J-Dogg as he lined up his victim with his “good shoulder”. Had it been on the other side, it may have been a different story, but with the good shoulder in motion he laid a beautiful hip and shoulder which will be felt for a few days to come.

The game ended in a strong win to Wembley… and after the final siren, the team finally found their voice, when Drew asked, “now where’s the beer tickets”?

– Reporter: Tom “Little Things”

 

Martin Masters v Rockingham Rams

Version 1 (“Truth isn’t truth” – Rudy Giuliani)

A beautiful Autumn afternoon at Karoonda Park in Booragoon welcomed the Wembley Masters for the last game of the day on Sunday against Rockingham.

Big team news just before the start with Chairman Wal and Jimmy suffering injuries in the previous Seniors game and ruled out of the team at the last minute. Normally the magnets would have to be shifted but Captain/Coach Sarge had forgotten the board. It’s a new look Masters team this year without two of our friends from the Left, Dave and Craig, who left without consultation to join the Seniors [ed: don’t bemoan if you didn’t get picked in the draft, Irish]. Two guys you wouldn’t want to be in the trenches with.

We lined up in the middle, Brocky a sponsor, Cogs, a sponsor, Sarge, a sponsor and Irish, head of sponsorship. If you don’t like where you are playing boys, get better or become a sponsor!

Rockingham selectors pulled the biggest selection surprise since Garry Hocking started all eighteen players, including our man Horts behind the ball. The Rockingham ruckman was tiny, not near approaching 6ft in his highest platforms. Irish had just come off a quarter filling in for Rockingham Seniors [ed: refer previous comments on draft picks] crashing into man mountain Moose and was unsettled by the tactic. Whistle goes, ball up, all three Wembley mids start running forward but the little man from Rockingham comes across the line, a grunt from Irish, the little man taps it on, kick to the forward line, Rockingham goal, all in twenty seconds or less. The fastest goal conceded by Wembley Masters in memory.

After some strong feedback from the mids, Irish got to work on the little man. Tapping it down to Cogs, a big bodied mid who played with the ease of a man taking a Sunday stroll, never looks like he is out of second gear. Brocky getting involved, low to the ground, sharp handballs and piercing left footers and the ever reliable Sarge who is playing in second gear. Three clearance and three quick goals to Wembley restored order. I can’t remember who kicked them, likely BO’M (a sponsor), BP and big Sammy. Wal was supposed to be taking notes for me.

Irish thought of the Woodside ethos ‘best man for the job’ and called DC to the middle to join the feast. DC, an ever obliging teammate, who doesn’t complain but can get his nose in the trough with the best would have a chance to rebuild his confidence after a monstering by Des Headland the last game.

Quarter time came soon enough and Selfie’s partner Tracey approach Sarge and asked if he could get Selfie on the ground for a run so she didn’t have to listen to another long winded story from Selfie for an hour or so. Sarge obliged and the middle had a different look, Selfie to the ruck, DC, Cogs and Brocky. Something had happened since the start, Rockingham found a man with some height and the new look middle didn’t have it all their own way. Selfie was serviceable but didn’t exactly turn the clock back.

The defence with Irish patrolling was solid naturally and the forwards functioning with BO’M helping himself to multiple goals. BP was tiring after a solid start and playing a full game of Seniors underage even though they had players on the bench who couldn’t get on. First gamer Pistol, a bald man with a beard plays tall and had some good contests. Strangely Rockingham also had a bald man with a beard nicknamed Pistol. Stan had one kick to forget over the boundary line but made good space and often found himself well in the clear calling for the ball but being ignored. Remember Stan, not everyone likes the ABC! Right on half time Pistol finally gloved one 30m out straight in front. His kick after the siren didn’t make the distance and the cameraman uttered “Pistol is firing blanks today”

At halftime someone told Sarge that a spectator had asked if this was an over 60s game. Thanks, Selfie, for slowing it down in there. Sarge knew something had to be done, channelled his inner Baz Luhrmann, he knew the crowd wanted a big show, thinking WG Grace, the crowd didn’t come to see the current six forwards fumbling below their knees, they came to see the big names perform. Back to the Forwards he declared, give the people what they want.

Irish, big Damo, PK, Benny, Dozer and Joffa (a sponsor with an unfortunate nickname as it has turned out) strode to the forward line, A formidable six with Irish informing the other five that there is absolutely no glory in giving the ball off to a teammate inside the 50. Big Damo is a purist in football terms, he has no time for this type of sentiment.

The delivery into the forward line was terrible, one kick after another going wide or to ground or both. Joffa couldn’t believe the standard of the kicks coming in. PK and Ben were waxing and waning, kicking to each other every chance instead of getting it to the main players. Simon V kicked wide to a leading Irish who had to recover it from deep in the pocket, tried to kick a left foot banana from the impossible angle but the tackle made the kick drop to Dozer in the goal square. Dozer grassed his chance but PK crumbed a nice goal. Irish was playing like Fyfe by now, breaking tackles, fending ducking and weaving but continued to miss the big sticks until finally getting a free kick in front but giving the handball to Sarge running past for a goal. Unselfish as always!

Three quarter time and Sarge was happy. Selfie had retired to an early shower. Same six forwards for the last quarter. Damo demanded a change to centre half-forward pushing Irish to the goal square The Brentwood Booragoon boys and girls at the clubrooms were several beers in, the music was pumping, they had a bird’s eye view of where the action was guaranteed.

More of the same in the last quarter with the delivery into the forward line. There must have been some sort of team instruction given because Fev and Uni continued to stream down the wings and kept kicking it to the lesser lights instead of kicking it to Irish. Dozer marked 40m out on a 45 degree angle and ambitiously pointed to the big sticks. Big contest in the goal square with Irish gathering and thinking about snapping with the right instead of giving it off. Caught holding the ball.

There was action in the backline also but too far away for the author to see (where are the notes Wal?). Rockingham’s 70 year old Wilko bagged a goal with lots of finger pointing from the makeshift backline no doubt.

Another poor kick to Irish, surprisingly from Joffa but Irish gathered, dodged a couple and slotted with the outside of the left boot. Ben approached Irish to say he was by himself in the goalsquare for the handball. It’s Ben’s first year at the club you know.

In a late highlight Dozer streamed into goal 25 out and kicked a certainty goal but Irish marked on the goal line to deny Dozer his first for the year. Sarge streamed in to tackle Irish as he was lining up and kicked the goal himself. The young umpire couldn’t believe his eyes and was resetting the mark but the Rockingham boys convinced him to let Sarge’s goal stand. That’s Master footy!

The Brentwood Booragoon boys asked Irish to draw the raffle to end their day and the Big Show was over. What a great day! Check out the great work that GO’D does with his camera and presentation at training for all the photos and videos.

– Reporter: Sean “Irish” Delaney

Version 2 (“Facts are stubborn things” – John Adams)

The Masters match against Rockingham started in ominous fashion with the very first bounce down. Irish walked into the opposition ruckman and proceeded to collapse to the ground letting out a groan that was heard far and wide across the surrounding suburbs. Initial thoughts was a ruptured kidney or lung but we understand it was only a ruptured grey ball – and they’re not in use anymore so play Wembley Vets Football Club Match Reports went on. Needless to say Rockingham cleared it from the centre for the first major of the game in under 60 seconds and Irish was quickly relegated to the backline.

Plenty of run from the mids for the rest of the first quarter helped peg back the lead and some quality “BALL” use from backs and forwards (except Irish who was more concerned with his own ball) saw Wembley with the lead at quarter time.

Second quarter started with much of the same. Another loud groan from Irish in the backline and Cogs and DC dominated in tandem in the ruck which allowed sarge, brocky, Fev and uni to clear the ball to the forwards. By half time everyone was playing their role and playing really well as a team – we think in part because Irish had other things on his mind – “Gaz can you come out and look at this thing!!!”

Third quarter and sarge made a monumental coaching error by doing the usual back to forward switch which brought Irish back into the game. This is where the game got really interesting. With plenty of clean possessions all over the ground by Wembley – the ball went forward and the Irishman kept demanding the footy. His first shot at goal missed. His second went sky high nowhere. But it was his third attempt that caught the eyes of west coast recruiting spies on the sidelines. Irish was in the clear on the half forward line. Looking more like a baby giraffe he took off, one bounce, two bounces, three, four and five bounces. It was Mick Mcguane like. He sold candy to one opponent. Then fended off another. Twisting and turning out of danger and back into danger. At one point play went into slow motion. Ah wait, that was just Irish moving. The goals lit up in front of him as he watched his kick sail over the behind post. He tried to convince everyone it was a goal – but just like Richo Richo man – he couldn’t hide his disappointment at yet another goal kicking failure. Hands on head ruing what could have been goal of the century. While 3 Wembley forwards unattended in the goal square saw red.

Fourth quarter and sarge made up for his previous error. He gave the instruction to tackle Irish – but staying away from the “tackle” as that was still a sensitive area for the big man. It was goal for goal in the final quarter and still every Wembley player was playing brilliant team footy. Until it happened. Like a famous Britney Spears song. Oops Irish did it again. It was Dozer – who may not have kicked a goal in more than 5 years – running into an open goal after a delicious handball receive from uni – and as the ball cleared the outstretched arms of the oncoming opposition player and was sailing through the big sticks, Irish marked it on the goal line. That was the straw that broke the sarge’s back. Sarge took off at Usain Bolt pace and as Irish was about to kick a gimme from the goal square, he was tackled by sarge who calmly collected the loose ball (the sherrin, not the other loose ball) and slotted the goal himself.

Final siren and time to celebrate a great game from the Wembley masters.

Honourable mention to PK for two ducks in a row and a holding the ball decision – and Joffa for a clear holding the ball but no call from the under age umpire. (My guess is he was still confused as to why a Wembley player tackled his own teammate!) Let’s all hope Irish recovers from his rupture and 0.4 scoring result.

– Reporter: Jon “Uni” Bowker

 

Seniors v Rockingham Rams

The weather gods promised another perfect day and mother-nature delivered. Clear skies, light winds and just enough sun to take the edge off the autumn chill. A perfect afternoon for footy. The much anticipated throw down with the Rockingham Rams was shaping up to be a classic north vs south clash.

Pre-game tension rose as the opposition’s numbers swelled with a few mop-headed high range BMIs arriving on scene. Needless to say, the this contrasted heavily with the ripped, v-shaped clean-cut Wembley Seniors. The seasoned southern campaigners would prove hard to tackle and hard to stop once the pill was in their paws but it wasn’t their day for conversion. As the Rams ran through their warm up drills it was soon apparent their numbers were not going to make a full squad so Sarge, Wally, Irish and Fev ‘patched over’ to red and white to fill the numbers. Introductions seemed friendly enough before the first bounce though the unkempt hair, musky aroma and the bluey-green shoulder tatts suggested some white-line fever was imminent with its requisite ‘robust’ play and a touch of aggro around the ball.

1st Term. Moose won the first knockout setting the theme for the day. Wembley took complete control of the game from the outset and a neat passage of play fed the leather to Newy which he honoured with a straight goal. This was soon followed by another feed into the forward line and scrap around the ball thirty meters out from goal with the pill spilling out into the hands of yours truly for a quick fend off before a snap to goal giving Wembley a second major. Irish decided to move up a gear for the opposition taking the opportunity to play out of his skin in both his ruck-work and possessions. Though the Wembley onslaught continued with Magic and Simmo delivering their typical classy brand of football showing great speed outpacing the defenders around half forward again feeding Newy the opportunity to thump his second goal through before leaving Wembley with three in the first term… and Newy was on fire! The siren blew and Rockingham looked a little shell shocked as they walked to their first huddle.

2nd Term. Second quarter saw the Rams begin to learn as their mids began playing to Moose’s taps. This increased the density around the ball with deadlock grapples leading to further ball-ups. Wattsie continued to extract from the mid-field. Eppo the epic energizer did exactly what rovers are supposed to do breaking clear time and again to move the ball west from the centre square into to forward line. No mistakes Mikey, continued with his consistent return to form from the wing efficiently disposing several hard won balls allowing Newy to kick his third. A ferocious battle for the bead in the goal square saw the unstoppable Matty guns-jinking in several directions before getting his foot to the leather sending a ripping close range banana between the big posts to the team’s roar. Space repeatedly provided good options in the forward line only to be repeatedly swarmed by a desperate opposition. As Wembley took a moment to regain some puff the Rams clawed back a goal during the second. Refusing to be a casualty from previous battle damage Cavs and was forced to kick on his left all day from half back flank; he continued his valiant efforts to contribute with a couple of gutsy marks and defensive disposals. One engagement saw a lofty kick just over the heads of the Wembley half-backs giving one of those odd 50/50 bounces as the ball bounced in one direction and Cavs and crew went in the other. Midway through the quarter Jimmy delivered a breath taking performance leaving his team spell-bound. In a first and second effort that is rarely witnessed outside Optus stadium, Jimmy hit Mach-One before intercepting the Sherrin on the right Wembley Vets Football Club Match Reports wing disposing it with a lighting stab across to centre-half forward only to skilfully collect the same ball off hands to stab it off deep inside the forward fifty.

3rd Term. Entering the half time break Wembley was beginning to sweat. Wattsie reminded the group to utilise the rarely available sub opportunities. Scoring slowed during the third with just one goal per side. Simmo’s characteristic slick play saw him slip the clutches of several defenders in the left forward pocket before taking a snap for goal narrowly missing for a behind. The ball remained in Wembley’s forward half for much of the third often arriving in BP’s capable hands. BP still had plenty in the gas tank being only on his second game for the day. Running out of answers, the Ram’s nerves began to fray and some emotional pleas at the umpiring decisions soon followed. One long debate saw Sarge in a walking argument with the centre umpire for not calling holding-the-ball; he was lucky not to get a double fifty. Team talk began to wane on both sides as the tanks were running low at the end of the third. On the next ball up Irish, forgetting whose side he was on, tapped out to Sarge for Sarge’s trademark speedy disposal to Wally who accelerated like Usain Bolt to arrive co-speed with the ball before thumping the artillery over our half-forwards resulting a rare opposition goal. As expected Youngie gave his all and midway through the third he was seen chasing down a crossground pass that landed just beyond reach; Unaware that a woolly mammoth had been gaining momentum behind him for seventy meters, Youngie got crunched as he slowed to collect the ground ball. For a moment, he completely disappeared into the turf underneath the brute and we heard the sound of something crack from the wing. For a solemn few seconds, we feared this might be a game stopper. But in the same way that Rocky Balboa clawed back up the ropes after Mr T’s tried to show him who’s boss, the phoenix soon rose from the ashes; we still don’t know how but Youngie got to his feet. Nonetheless, the subs began to flow as reinforcements were called to replace the gassedout and the wounded.

4th Term. Following the break confusion descended on the team after Lui engaged an innovative approach to holding the play-board, upside down. This sent Dad’s Army running to the wrong ends as we set up for the fourth. For just a moment, Brynna our dependable full-back, had a momentary glint in this eye at the thought he might bring home some gold. The fourth term kicked off with Rockingham’s final attempt at a counter offensive resulting in some big clashes. Entries inside the defensive fifty were repeatedly repelled as the ever-reliable defenders TK and Longy dug the ball back out along the straight boundary. Selfey remained fully engaged with his usual imposing style placing some kind of force field around the back fifty. Poobah’s flashy new white boots saw him overcome his plantar-fashionista delivering some startling bursts of speed. Employing a hidden laser gun-sight he launched some low level grass cutters that came off his boot with so much back-spin that clumps of grass were sucked up the wake of the ball. DT and Brynna effectively neutralised the Rams’ full-forward keeping him almost completely out of the game; so much so he was later overheard asking his coach for a refund of his registration fees. Youngie copped an unfair turn-over decision after a dubious high tackle call. Seemed the ump was trying to square up the guilt trip Sarge had dispensed to him earlier. Nearing the end of the third yours truly initiated an explosive lead to right half forward to intercept the ball with Irish in hot pursuit. Irish, low on glucose by this time and suffering hallucinations, mistook my head for a mouth-watering piñata and swung his chiselled forearm into my cranium like it was his last chance to smash the container. After waking from what seemed like a long dream, half deaf and with a throbbing right ear, I dropped a barrel into fullforward in reply. The Rams soon dug it out kicking back to half forward. Fev launched off to hunt down the dribbling ball. Still punchy and with no chance of catching him I made a token pursuit in Wembley Vets Football Club Match Reports the faint hope that a wrong bounce would slow him for my clinch; and fate delivered. Fev’s natural game instincts called him to brake-turn hard left which positioned his collar squarely into my descending left arm for a high tackle free.

The final siren brought an end a great afternoon of footy with most of us surviving with just moderate strains and aches. A tight call placed Newboy as best on ground. In all it was a master class by the Wembley Seniors with a team that continues to gel as we find each other’s measure. Next we’re up against the Vic Park Pigs at Ron Jose oval. Should be a walk in the park after capsizing the Rams.

– Reporter: Ray “Sparkles” Werndley

PS. On a personal note, I am having a blast with you fellas and will contribute as long as I can. After a thirty plus year job I am stepping out of my professional team and it has been a real home-coming to return to footy with such a welcoming new tribe. There wouldn’t be any one of us who hasn’t been cautioned by friends or family on the obvious risks around playing AFL or who doesn’t have a slight sense of trepidation on the way to a game. Yet we still we go. It is great to mix with men who calculate their risks and then keep on charging. So thank you for the great team spirit and thanks for inviting me along Space.