Winner Week 26

In response to the sheer number of fuckwits and nob jockeys invading the world, and this State in particular, the Auditor-General, Elle McPherson, was instructed to conduct an urgent inquiry. The report he prepared, "South Australia - A State of Fuckwits", was handed to Russell Wortley but the fucker can't read and so has he shelved the report, right next to the Burnside Council report and the Michelle Chantelois video. Luckily, the fuckwit report was leaked to Laurie Holden and what an explosive read it is. McPherson's conclusion is clear - this state's fuckwit quotient is growing quicker than Bernie Finnigan’s Disney movie collection. We have more fuckwits per capita than an Oakeshott family reunion. McPherson lays out in fine detail hundreds and hundreds of cases of fuckwit behaviour, from Mary Jo Fisher’s shop-lifting hokey pokey to Skeletor’s interminable fucking bullshit. He has two key recommendations for these fuckwits to consider very carefully – 1) shut the fuck up and 2) piss off.

His final recommendation was that the Adelaide Crows should be this week’s winner of the Chad Medal. Hard to argue with that one, Elle. If you thought Port Adelaide were fucking crap, well, you would be fucking spot on, but the Crows are even worse. Their performance on Friday night against Saint Kilda was THE most pathetic display of football I’ve ever seen, apart from Luke Jarrad’s entire career, and Glenelg’s finals record, and Robbie Gray’s work ethic, and Matty Lloyd’s diving, and Gerard Neesham’s coaching, and WWT eagles attempt to call themselves a football club, and Brett Staker’s inability to take a punch. If Channel 9 wants to justify their claim as the “home of comedy”, they should forget about Hamish and fucking Andy and just replay the Crows 103-point capitulation over and over again, and to top it off, show Bernie Vince’s half-time interview – comedy gold, my friends, comedy gold!

Apart from the sensational comedy value of the performance, another bonus was that Neil Craig/Craig David quit, or more accurately, was boned. Bye bye, Craigy, good riddance – thank christ it didn’t happen a week earlier, which would have given you and Charlie Walsh a chance to fuck-up Cadel’s Tour De France. Remember Shane Kelly’s pedal fuck-up at the 1996 Olympics when he was hot favourite to win – that had Neil Craig’s fingerprints all over it.

From someone who had to put up with five years of his shit when he coached Norwood, I can’t say I feel sorry for the cunt. Because that is what he is - a cunt. A squeaky-voiced, over-rated little cunt who tucks his fucking polo shirt in right up to his fucking armpits – no wonder ya voice is so fucking squeaky.

Let’s take a look at his achievements at the Crows – no grand finals, regularly choking in finals, recruitment of an array of pillows like Douglas, Vince, Reilly, Knights, Moran, Tambling, McKay, Henderson – no surprises that the AFL has to give them a hand-out, they have South Australia’s biggest power bill as all these pricks sleep with the light on. Craigy, you are a fucking goose – you did your best to fuck over one of your most talented players, Tex Walker, because he doesn’t tackle enough – well, how about you apply that theory to your skipper, the AFL’s worst leader, Nathan Van Berlo. The only thing he tackles with vigour is a can of hair gel. And don’t get me started on Bernie Vince – he’s the Michael Clarke of football, all froth and bubble and more intent on getting his head on telly than getting the hardball.

Craigy’s greatest achievement at the Crows has to be the introduction of the 19th man and the associated Minda Meter. There is nothing like going to a Crows game with 35,000 spastics who are deathly quiet throughout most of the game, sitting there nicely with their knitted rugs on their knees and their Crows butt plugs planted snugly up their arses. But when the Minda Meter kicks in, they all drop their thermoses and let out a massive retarded roar in unison - it is worse than the sound of a cow being slaughtered in an Indonesian abattoir. Crows supporters are without doubt the most ignorant dumbfuck supporters in the league, learn the rules you fuckwits and you might actually understand what you're fucking watching. You know it really shits me when these fuckwits say "well at least go for the Crows when they're playing Collingwood or Hawthorn". No I fucking don't. "Well why don't you go and live over there then". Well why don't you read a fucking rulebook and stop acting like a fuckhead. I went for a different team before the Cows came into the comp, why should I be a fucking sheep like the rest of you dumbfucks and just roll over because the rest of you fucking mindas have. Do you want to know why a lot of people can't stand the club - it's because of you fuckheaded ostrich cunts. Go and get fucked the lot of ya.

And what about the Crows management? Just take a look at the Board – it includes two of the biggest soft-cocks ever to play football - Andrew Payze and Stephen Trigg. Payze was an inaugural inductee into the Tontine Football Hall of Shame. It is no surprise to find out his nickname was “bandit”. Payze can only be described as a shadow of a man. Throughout his 300-plus game career he was consistently soft and displayed an uncanny knack of avoiding physical contents. He will go down in the history books as the most useless and feeble excuse for a footballer ever to play 300 league games – he makes Brent Stanton look like Jono Brown. For fucksake, the cunt’s favourite drink was a shandy in a pony glass. And then there is Crows Chief Arse Clown, Triggy. For those who don’t know, he played footy for Centrals before Neil Kerley arseholed him off to North Adelaide. Kerley described Trigg perfectly, “he stepped around the football field so carefully that you could put eggshells in his footy boots and not one would get broken during the game.” Trigg made an artform out of being a gutless wonder. Not once in his career did he bother the statistician in terms of hard-ball gets, shepherds, tackles or contested marks. However, he set a league record for attempted dry roots on opposition players. He was a heartless footballer who could always be relied upon to pull out of a contest. So it made absolute perfect sense for him to go on and coach Sturt – which he did quite effectively, leading them to the wooden spoon in his two years at the helm. Throw in the fact that he was also Senior School Master at St Peters College, a nursery for Adelaide’s elite nancy boys. Remember the interview you did at Elizabeth Oval after the GF loss in 1995 when you tried the old "it was a great effort to get there" bullshit when interviewing coach Alan Stewart, Triggy? The Chief Editor was there and he fucken does, and so did Stewie, he cut you down like the cunt you are. He said second best ain't good enough, and that's why the club has had success (not because of salary cap rorting as that greasy weasel Rucci implied). It doesn't accept second best, you however are happy to just be competitive, so you fit in well with Craigy. With a fuckhead who doesn't demand success and accepts nothing more is running the joint, it permeates through the club like a rancid fart through a pair of undies. Fish stinks from the head, and Triggy, you stink like Jenny Williams' poo-catchers after a 5km run.

So, as you can see, when you have got two bloody pillows running the show, it is no fucking wonder that they recruit shirt-lifters! And to make matters worse they also have a bloke who awards lucrative government contracts to his son-in-law and then gets the arse from Tourism SA, Bob Foord (the cunt can’t even spell Ford), and a failed politician who struts around with a carrot up his arse, Nigel Smart. Yep, the Crows are in great hands.

And how's their assistant coaches, jesus what a pack of arsefucks. You've got Matthew Clarke - played over 200 games and took 3 contested marks and pro-created with Ali Carle. Mark Bickley - a fucken weekend newsreader and now coach. Scott Camporeale - softcock who tried to act tough but was in fact softer than a 3 week old tomato and looks like he has a turd permanently under his beak. He made Matty Knights look good. And David Noble - couldn't even get the Bays to a position where they could throw away a finals series. There's as much quality there as in an expired keg of West End Draught.

And then there is the media that fawn over the Crows like fucking love-sick fucking sycophants. By far the worst offenders are Kym Dillon and Stephen Rowey. Rowey continues to defend the cunts, even when they display less heart than a Wizard of Oz character. It's never their fault is it Rowey, the planets aren't aligned, the AFL scheduling is against them, the umps have fucked em, it's too cold, too hot, their missus' are all having a visit from aunty flow at the same time, they've got more injuries than everyone else, the fengshui isn't right, it's raining, it's a pile of pissweak fucking excuses. State the facts you gibbering monkey, they're fucking shit and it's noone else's fault but their own for the predicament they find themselves in. But we aren't surprised, Rowey's bag of excuses would have got a decent run when he was an assistant coach at Glenelg, the team that got fucking thrashed by Centrals when they had 4 extra fit players on the field for over half of the game. And fucking Dillon, a man that couldn't match wits with a retarded little womble like Chris Dzelde. Those two clowns are always at the front of the Crows conga line of suckholes.

So it is with great pleasure that I accept the Auditor-General’s recommendation that the Adelaide Crows win this week’s Chad Medal. Enjoy it, it's the only thing silverware you fuckheads are going to win for a long time.Congratulations, this week’s game against the Power should be one for the ages. Actually, I think I’d rather watch a Hamish and Andy sketch.