(content snaffled from nzherald.co.nz and nzoom.com)

The Jones boy keeps delivering


A famous day for Stacey Jones and the club. Fittingly it was Stacey Jones who provided the clincher which took the New Zealand Warriors to their first National Rugby League grand final after beating the Sharks 16-10 in Sydney on Sunday. It was foundation player Jones who new owner Eric Watson and new coach Daniel Anderson asked to revive the team's on-field fortunes after the club went belly up two years ago.

And the little general continued to deliver, beyond all but the wildest imagination of those dark days, when he put in the deft chip kick which broke a 10-10 deadlock with five minutes remaining as the Warriors sunk Cronulla 16-10 in the preliminary final. ...more...

and from NZ Herald:

The gravity of the Warriors’ win struck home in a Telegraph report headlined: "Kiwis A Game Away From The Unthinkable."

"They’ve won the America’s Cup, they own the Melbourne Cup and now they’re 80 minutes away from snatching rugby league’s most treasured prize. "The team that was broke and supposedly on death row two years ago yesterday stormed into the NRL grand final to set up trans-Tasman Us against Them War," Dean Ritchie wrote.

Herald columnist Roy Masters while praising the Warriors as "selfless, unified and resilient", warned the multi-dimensional Roosters would present a different challenge.

"During the past eight weeks, the Sydney team has dismantled and demoralised, winning pretty with speed and finesse in one game, winning ugly with strength and toughness in the next.

Coach Ricky Stuart indicated before yesterday’s match that he would prefer to play the Warriors because the Sharks’ style was so similar to his own team.

"Yet his battered and bruised pack will not relish an encounter with the Warriors’ hard-running forwards.

"Some of the Warriors have hands the size of canned hams, holding the ball in the palm above the outstretched arms of opponents, like giants playing with pygmies.

"The Roosters destroyed the Warriors 44-0 when they last met but that was a pale imitation of yesterday’s play. If the Roosters take that memory of the Warriors into the grand final, they will be like the boxer who has watched Lennox Lewis on tape and formulated a plan: suddenly, he hits you a few times and the plan is worthless."

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This is it. The reason, I've decided, i've been weird lately. Well, to you I've been weird. You can stop telling me to smile or cheer up. You can stop noticing I am in a *mood* and you can stop worrying about me. The reason, I know, in my heart of hearts, that I haven't been myself, my usual cheery self, if, in fact, that's me, is because of tomorrow. It's Alan's birthday - or it would have been, had Alan still been alive today, or tomorrow. Or any day. I miss him. Plain and simple. driving home last night in tears - not the safest mode of transport - realising what I've known that tomorrow is his birthday and how much I miss that bloody man. And now i'm leaking again. And remembering him. And .. you know what? he liked me. no truly liked ME. Not because he had to because I was his sisterinlaw or because he was polite.. but because he felt comfortable with me and because he liked my company. I remember him taking the midnight bus. yes BUS from Auckland to New Plymouth to come to my 21st party. and he bought me a present.. and LP.. remember those? Men Without Hats. He liked me. And I miss him. every single day I miss him like I miss my father. They shared the same name, you know. and died at the same age. and that's just too much for one michelle to bare. And thats the reason there can't BE a god to do that to a person twice. in one lifetime. To force a lesson on a girl is just plain mean. So its his birthday tomorrow.. and Alan's worst fear was to be forgotten.. and I promised him he wouldn't be. I promised him that i'd love him forever and that I would go to his grave and remember him every year, and that 's what I'm doing tomorrow. I'm going to sit on the grass of his grave and talk to him with tears streaming down my face, cos he always tolerated that from me. And tell him all the things that have happened since the last time I sat there. All by myself. Because he liked me and was the one, and only reason, I stayed in that family so long. Without him, there wasn't any point. He asked me, with his last breaths.. not when he was dying,.. but, if you know cancer you know.. the strength to speak goes long before you die. He asked me over and over "what are you going to do" and i thought.. does he mean me and greg? does he mean just me? wendy said he worried about my spirituality. I don't know.. I told him.. no matter what, i would be okay and he wasn't to worry.. that I would try and do things as well as I could and I would look after Greg and he wasn't to worry - but he did.. and kept on asking what was I going to do. I don't think I understood. and i miss him. But he worried. because he liked me. me. just me being me. one of the few people who ever did. really truly liked me all my faults and all.. and lord knows he say plenty of my faults.. i was never at my prettiest when I was with his family. And he loved my children. Loved them like they were his own. He was the best Uncle in the world and he left us all too soon. And I miss him. And the night he died.. when his parents felt it wasn't a proper place for his nephews and nieces to be... and they made me send them home. I was bundling them into the car outside on the street on such a still quiet evening.. and I stopped.. and looked up at the moon and the night sky in a moment held in time for no good reason and I felt joy in my heart. The spell was broken by a voice saying I ought to go inside, because something was happening and i rushed inside not even aware of the small feet that crowded around mine and followed me in from the car. To find the wailing and the facing away from people.. and the body on the bed that didn't even look like him anymore because in those brief moments he had gone. And how proud I was of him. And how much.. how much.. how much I missed him. I wasn't his wife. I wasn't his friend, I dont' think he would have said I was his friend. I was his sister by marriage. And I loved him dearly. And I could tell him everything and nothing. And he loved me back. And.. I miss him. --------

'sup my scrollies - links you to the funniest giggly site I've ever seen outside the Chronicles of George.

Walking back from lunch with Rosie, and trying to think of something to write about in here. It's not that nothings happening in my life..but right now it seems that work is taking up so much of my mind, and it has done for so long now, I can't squeeze anything else of any interest out.

*drumming my fingers on the homekeys thinking.. i could talk about knitting? no. um. my flat? no, that sucks. OH.. I know!*

Kristy's pregnant! now that's very interesting. Due in early May 2003.

There, I did it. I found something to tell you. Now I can go back to work.

*later on*

so, its nearly 6pm. Its quiet in the office, I'm the only one here. The afternoon was productive and pleasent - the insanity of the morning taking the lift to the ground floor around midday. Talking with the new guy and listening to ideas, has left me feeling hopeful and excited in a mildmannered geeky kind of way. He has that effect. After our one-on-one meeting the other day I felt a lot better about things, and I noticed others leaving his office with more of a spring in their step. Confessing/unburdening/whatever.. I'm sure he was feeling a lot less so with the extra weight he had to carry with all our words spilling out. He seems a good egg. Level. Solid. I asked him how he was finding New Zealand (thats a kiwi expression.. of course he had already *found* New Zealand, he's here) and he grimaced and shrugged and looked out the window and said "you are all weird" and that made me laugh. I guess it is a culture shock - we speak english but thats not enough to be the same. He seems to be liking it well enough, for now. Has plans to stay, for now. I hope he finds the kiwis he encounters nicer than the ones that Kiki met - some of us are really really horrible. The other new guy, younger, blonder, taller, faster.. has the same intense listening eyes. It's rather disarming to have someone actually listen when you speak. But then, saying that, maybe he's finding our accent difficult to get used to.

I've been feeling let down. Let down by people not doing their jobs properly, and let down by not doing a better job of my own duties.

I keep typing and deleting. .. I guess I'm unsure how to put how i feel into words, and also unsure that this is where I should be putting them. --------