A WEEKLY REVIEW: The Good The Bad The Ugly

Queensland erupts for a triumph on home turf — and beyond — but Rothfire provided the necessary lava in the Doomben 10,000 last Saturday.

Despite being a $61 outsider, beaten at Rockhampton previously, Rothfire, rising nine, stirred those with a banana bent like previous greats.

Rothfire is considered the oldest sprinter to capture the Group One 1200 metre dash that goes back to 1933, albeit over different distances and conditions, enrapturing the hometown emotion.

At the end race broadcaster David Fowler went up octaves: “I can’t believe this …. it has the place rocking”.

Mind you Eagle Farm trainer Rob Heathcote and jockey Brad Rawiller, battling from the Victorian has-been scrap heap, were entitled to every accolade.

Getting a horse so good, so old is no mean feat while Rawiller plotting a course described by Fowler as being “right off the track” emphasised the family skill for finding the right ground. Brother Nash is pretty good, too. The delight of Brad captured on television at the winning post was satisfaction personified.

Racegoers exploded with the special a boom for local heroes, well volumed to previous State greats in the Doomben 10,000 going back to Loch Neagh (1934) with champion Bernborough (1946).

Yes, it will be argued the horses and those that make them are acceptable, but the supporters?

“After 12 months each year I am suddenly overcome with the unbearable dislike for a cluster of yobbos who live more than 800km away,” Dean Richie, a must read in the Daily Telegraph, opined.

“Yep, Queenslanders. You know how the saying goes …annoying one day, arrogant the next.

“State Of Origin is here and my antipathy has returned again. Why though? Why do I abhor Queenslanders so much at this time”.

I’ve had more enjoyable than negative moments with them. I still get nightmares over Keith Noud’s call of the 1971 Grand Prix at Eagle Farm.

“And little Mode goes up to Planet Kingdom, and our little Mode, little Mode, little Mode,” he shrilled in a tone certainly north of the border.

I had a big lick at Planet Kingdom and still wake up at night, aghast in a cold sweat, hearing “little Mode” (she was a 14-hand pit pony against a magnificent colt) reverberate.

Queenslanders on the boil are testing but Noud was a gentleman, a pleasure to know. State Of Origin, though, sends them into another orbit.

For instance, Bundamba Slim (Peter Cameron), as one eyed as any in the state, once put Andrew Webster, the accomplished Sydney wordsmith, into retreat with his home state adulation. Even had a good word for Russ Hinze.

But I would not have missed a second of his company, and once gave me his seat alongside son, David, at a State Of Origin while he watched the game in the bar. They won that one.

Alas the clash we watched with Stinger (Craig Young) at Tatts in Brisbane didn’t go the Maroon’s way. Bundamba Slim marched out, leaving a half empty tankard, sacrilege, declaring: “I’ll never watch the football with you mugs again.”

Rod Gallegos, also a race caller in Brisbane before being a top Daily Telegraph racing writer, was more reserved. But the State Of Origin in Brisbane, after a Breakfast Creek (pub) session at the Gallegos homestead, was an experience.

Progeny of Keith Noud, the Gallegos girls showed none of their grandfather’s reserve nor their father’s but added to the colour of the occasion.

Queenslanders?

Effusive but enriching.

My first was trainer old Bart Sinclair, father of young Bart Sinclair, all around media giant, trainers Jack Clayton, and Bruce McLachlan, jockeys Darby McCarthy, Mick Dittman, and Larry Olsen to name a few. In a tight finish if you wanted another neck, Dittman and Olsen, would find it.

Rothfire was GOOD while South Sydney, dreary without Alex Johnston against Queensland’s Dolphins, on Saturday? BAD.

Whether Latrell Mitchell would make the coming State Of Origin seemed to be the key question. Should he have played last Saturday? South Sydney is about more than Latrell Mitchell. I am more concerned with the Rabbits and Swans than of State Of Origin. Its time will come.

Fortunately, the Swans have Brodie Grundy, the Artie Beetson of AFL: a scintillating heavyweight with hands, brain and brawn. Put him in current mode with Papley, and Heaney, the sky’s the limit.

Ironically Beetson captained Queensland in the inaugural State of Origin success in 1980, the year local Ducatoon was disqualified after winning the Stradbroke held in conjunction with the Rugby League innovation, long before the Swans and AFL became a force in Sydney.

Sure, rivals Collingwood on Saturday were down on full strength, but played swell. However, the Grand Final is the Melbourne Cup, not pace making early. Brisbane, here I go again for Queenslanders, have had the knack. The Swans are scene stealers. Can coach Dean Cox give them Finals backbone?

Obviously, it was not the grand final for Verdoux, the Melbourne trained gelding, in the Ortensia Stakes at Scone on Saturday. The gelding finished 15^th …More has been mentioned about horses on Saturday who struck less trouble.

Beaten five lengths, Verdoux, racing “ungenerously”, could well have broken a record for running into backsides in the straight, noted by stewards, who told jockey Tom Sherry his “evidence would be noted”.

UGLY indeed.