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And so it begins.
It.
You know……..
The thing born of hatred.
Spawned of envy.
Allied with backwater bias.
It has begun.
The media’s love affair with hatred. Hatred of the Roosters. There was a time a little way back when the Roosters were playing fairytale football. And the vultures rode it. They rode it like a leech rides the nape of a bushman in the Congo. Feeding and gorging its disgusting belly. A belly usually bloated with bile and bullshit.
But it has begun. A turnaround that would make Linda Blair dizzy. Rusty blades are being sharpened as we speak. Whilst roosters fans adorn their war paint and take their lives into Saturday with all the gusto and bravado afforded of possibly a last stand, the greatest last stand, the leeches hunger for blood once more. Every step taken, every crack crossed on the pavement of fortune has seen the scum of the game, the establishment rip and tear at the razor wielding bantam who fought for his life, tooth and nail, and overcame great diversity to survive. Every excuse under the Solar System has been thrown at the Rooster, to discredit, to rock, to destabilise him.
Rumours of key players unhappy at the club. Rumours of key players involved in conspiracy and theft. Involved in dishonour. What chance the vultures implicate the birds from the East at every opportunity. Anything to remove us. Anything to return us to the abyss which we stared at as the edges of our footings crumbled away at the end of last season. We have been there. To the end. We have been impaled by the shame. By the lack of will. By weakness.
And we have risen. This Rooster emulating the fabled Phoenix. Arising from the ashes of the most damaging flames to beset this club in 40 years. Wooden cutlery fuelling the flames thirst. Never quenching. Spirits broken by off field and on field humiliation.
Broken men. Smashed spirits. Lost innocence and potential.
And we survive.
We continue to draw breath. We dust ourselves off as once again, and on queue as the sun rises to the East, we prove once and for all who we are.
We are an entity that completely embodies the spirit of this great life concept called Rugby League. We are this ritual.
We are beings that will NEVER surrender.
We will NEVER cease to strive and achieve.
They will come at us.
They will throw everything at us, both in fairness and by deception.
They are desperate to hold their power.
They fear. Once more, they fear. It has returned.
The hatred for the Rooster. The fear of the Rooster.
And we continue to live the cry of “One at a time”, and die for each other under the battle standard……………………………… “One minute”.
We are unstoppable. Though they try and bury us once more in that unholy place we once resided, we will come at them.
We must be on song. Maintain the rage. Embrace belief!!!
THEY CANNOT STOP US!!!
THEY CANNOT HURT US!!!!
THEY WILL NOT KILL US!!!
We are EASTS!!!! THE MIGHTY ROOSTERS!!!!
And we will be there on Saturday, ready to lay our lives down for one another….but never conceding death or defeat!!!
We will fight!! AND WE WILL ENDURE AND WIN!!!! We will beg them for the next wave.
And so it begins.
So it continues.
One at a time, ONWARD and UPWARDS THE ROOSTER!!!! NEVER DIE!!!
And it will end.
On our Terms.
When WE choose it.
When WE reap the cloak of Glory. To compliment the badge of Honour WE NOW HOLD once more over our Tricoloured crest!!!
And it will be so.
The spirit of Easts has never been more willing.
The will never stronger.
Take us if you can.
We are waiting for you.
Minute by minute.
Do it.
It.
You know……..
The thing born of hatred.
Spawned of envy.
Allied with backwater bias.
It has begun.
The media’s love affair with hatred. Hatred of the Roosters. There was a time a little way back when the Roosters were playing fairytale football. And the vultures rode it. They rode it like a leech rides the nape of a bushman in the Congo. Feeding and gorging its disgusting belly. A belly usually bloated with bile and bullshit.
But it has begun. A turnaround that would make Linda Blair dizzy. Rusty blades are being sharpened as we speak. Whilst roosters fans adorn their war paint and take their lives into Saturday with all the gusto and bravado afforded of possibly a last stand, the greatest last stand, the leeches hunger for blood once more. Every step taken, every crack crossed on the pavement of fortune has seen the scum of the game, the establishment rip and tear at the razor wielding bantam who fought for his life, tooth and nail, and overcame great diversity to survive. Every excuse under the Solar System has been thrown at the Rooster, to discredit, to rock, to destabilise him.
Rumours of key players unhappy at the club. Rumours of key players involved in conspiracy and theft. Involved in dishonour. What chance the vultures implicate the birds from the East at every opportunity. Anything to remove us. Anything to return us to the abyss which we stared at as the edges of our footings crumbled away at the end of last season. We have been there. To the end. We have been impaled by the shame. By the lack of will. By weakness.
And we have risen. This Rooster emulating the fabled Phoenix. Arising from the ashes of the most damaging flames to beset this club in 40 years. Wooden cutlery fuelling the flames thirst. Never quenching. Spirits broken by off field and on field humiliation.
Broken men. Smashed spirits. Lost innocence and potential.
And we survive.
We continue to draw breath. We dust ourselves off as once again, and on queue as the sun rises to the East, we prove once and for all who we are.
We are an entity that completely embodies the spirit of this great life concept called Rugby League. We are this ritual.
We are beings that will NEVER surrender.
We will NEVER cease to strive and achieve.
They will come at us.
They will throw everything at us, both in fairness and by deception.
They are desperate to hold their power.
They fear. Once more, they fear. It has returned.
The hatred for the Rooster. The fear of the Rooster.
And we continue to live the cry of “One at a time”, and die for each other under the battle standard……………………………… “One minute”.
We are unstoppable. Though they try and bury us once more in that unholy place we once resided, we will come at them.
We must be on song. Maintain the rage. Embrace belief!!!
THEY CANNOT STOP US!!!
THEY CANNOT HURT US!!!!
THEY WILL NOT KILL US!!!
We are EASTS!!!! THE MIGHTY ROOSTERS!!!!
And we will be there on Saturday, ready to lay our lives down for one another….but never conceding death or defeat!!!
We will fight!! AND WE WILL ENDURE AND WIN!!!! We will beg them for the next wave.
And so it begins.
So it continues.
One at a time, ONWARD and UPWARDS THE ROOSTER!!!! NEVER DIE!!!
And it will end.
On our Terms.
When WE choose it.
When WE reap the cloak of Glory. To compliment the badge of Honour WE NOW HOLD once more over our Tricoloured crest!!!
And it will be so.
The spirit of Easts has never been more willing.
The will never stronger.
Take us if you can.
We are waiting for you.
Minute by minute.
Do it.
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