There are suggestions (usually around derby day) that coaches are always told that fans "don't care what happens as long as we beat Wigan."
It seems Brian Potter has taken this seriously...
Potter came to us with the promise of building for the future. We have a wealth of junior players, many of whom are rated highly around the world, and have been brought up playing bold, exciting rugby league. The Saints way. Give it some air, never say die. Toss it like a 14 year old girl on Taylor Park for a cigarette. That sort of rugby. Exciting. Entertaining.
NEVER, have I been so bored with rugby, not since my first visit in 1991. You can almost predict Saints game plan, with scripted ease and comfort. Like an old person who rises at 6:30, takes a pee, returns to bed till 8:30, has some toast, and continues his day in an almost robotic routine.
Pop the ball to a prop or second rower, hit the deck, pop it up again. Pop it to another, maybe throw in a pass to the man next to you.
It's so interesting to watch I found exchanging monosyllabic niceties with the ex more amusing. Seriously, THAT bad.
And to top it off, we appear to have forgotten the ability to count. We don't even have to do it. The bloody ref tell us for fuck sake. He holds his hand up like Hitler at a rally, and tells us to do something with the ball other than run at them. It stops being a power play when you can predict we will run the ball inside the ten meter line. It becomes part of the script.
I may just celebrate like mad next time we score 20 points. Like we've finally won the Grand Final again.
The consummate ease with which you can plan Saints is non more typified than from a text from my 14 year old brother.
"Please tell me it is too foggy for you to see it."
I only got after waking up to boos.
My season ticket says "Home of Legends Since 1890." This is one legend where we pray the [former Catalans] Dragon is slain, and quick.
