Round 17 winner

As seems to be the case most weeks, there was a long list of fuckwits lining up to claim this week’s Chad. Those on the list ranged from the usual suspects like Michaelangelo Rucci and Neil Craig Craig Neil to up-and-comers like Steve the New Zealand truckie who some how ended up with an air nozzle up his jatz cracker. How the fuck he expects anyone to believe it was an accident is beyond me. Apparently, he fell on it - buttocks-first. OK, so it is possible that he tripped over but can someone explain to me what the fuck he was doing putting air in his tyres with no fucking pants on?? Completely understandable if it was Nick Riewoldt or Brendan Fevola, but a truck driver from New Zealand? Maybe he was delivering a load of sheep and was road-testing them? Or maybe he was delivering the brand new range of All Blacks Butt Plugs?

Anyway, there can only be one winner of the Chad and I have great pleasure in announcing that it is none other than Andrew Demetriou’s chief gimp, Adrian “Not So Angry” Anderson. He’s a complete bastard. With the support of Demetriou, the snivelling little prick has been hell-bent on destroying football. To quote one angry contributor to the Chad Medal, “he’s like the monkey who dances on the street while a swarthy slimebag plays the piano accordion. He talks like he’s important but in fact is just a spineless weak cunt who does and says what he’s told like a mincing poofbag. He’s the Kermit to Demetriou’s Miss Piggy. Sing it aint easy being green, you little fucking turd. He’s the gerbil to Richard Gere’s arse. The Mr Hat to Mr Garrison. The James Hird to Mark Thompson. The Stedman to Oprah.” Hard to argue with any of that, fella.

So let’s take a brief look at Adrian’s disgraceful history in the AFL. He got the gig as AFL Operation’s Manager in 2003, handpicked by Miss Piggy himself, Demetriou. Prior to this he was a media and sports lawyer – in other words, a cunt. Over 200 people applied for the job, and tellingly, Anderson was not among them! No, he was actually head-hunted by the Souvlaki King who said at the time of the appointment, "I've only ever dealt with Adrian professionally, for a short time while I was at the AFL Players Association. We are not interested in appointing people who are just going to say yes to everything. That's not how we work." Ya could have fooled me, fuckwit. And Anderson, responding to criticism that he had no football experience, said, “I have got some experience with football through the players' association and I have dealt with a few of the clubs but I acknowledge I don't have the club experience of a number of other people, and I am aware of the challenges ahead of me and looking forward to the challenges. I haven't got any plans to introduce any radical changes at all.” You fucking liar. Since you took on the job, you’ve done nothing else but change the fundamental rules of a game that existed quite nicely for 150 years without your fucking meddling. And you’ve fucked it up big time. There is no more biffo in the game. No characters. No fat bastards. No bumps. No gambling. No drinking. No swearing. No rooting around off the field. No abusing umpires. No, all we are left with is a bunch of prissy prima donnas running around and avoiding body contact like Pat Conlon avoids a Zumba class. And when there is body contact, ya get sent to Yatala for a couple of weeks. It’s bullshit. And Anderson, you are to blame.

So here is a message from all footy lovers out there – take this Chad Medal and fuck off. I’m sure the legal fraternity will welcome you back. I understand Eugene McGee is looking for partners in his newly formed practice, Fuckwit Bastard and Prick.