by Reuben Kincaid

G'day I'm Reuben Kincaid, non playing manager of the Partridge and my colleagues here in the ACT decided we'd get a homepage up and running to share the joy of our indoor cricket side.

The guys decided (and thereby volunteered me) it'd be good if I could do some sort of introduction for the team and how we were formed.

So here we go.

It was a dark and stormy evening, well dark, but not stormy well if you don't count that the next morning when several sore heads appeared at Centrelink at Woden and Tuggeranong. For it was the night before when the Partridge Famulee was conceived. As per usual, no conception is complete without copious amounts of alcohol.

Several lads, including Scott "Gadj" Amos, Jason "Herc" Wright, Dave " Langy" Lange, Tim "Inzy" Willson, Graeme "Gra Gra" McLauchlan and other reprobates who have since successfully sued management to keep their names off this page, gathered for "a drink". A term dear to our hearts that means we go out for "a drink" which inevitably turns into a pissup. Of course, it got out of control after Gadj mentioned in passing that it'd be a good idea to start up an indoor cricket team. He saw the talent in the room, by-passed that and went for the abovementioned individuals who responded quicker than you can blink an eyelid. Langy and Herc agreed wholehearedly that it was only a matter of time before some gullible prat decided to organise a team. They were the waiting and wanting participants, waiting for a leader. Gadj admitted soon after that he was stupid enough to suggest the idea, for trying to get a team together, of this calibre, all wearing the same attire, rolling up at the same venue at the same time, would be a logistical nightmare. Anyway, back to the story.

Soon after Gadj, Langy and Herc signed on the dotted line on a hastily and shoddily put together contract, scribbled drunkenly on a beer coaster recently "acquired" from the Kingston Hotel (God love em), we had the first incumbents into the Hall of Mediocrity. This was to be the signing of un-independence. We were now bound by and unofficial bond, blood brothers almost.

All we needed was a name, an identity, something to truly inspire people to play the game we all know and love. And soon after with all the talk filling Herc's humble abode, Inzy and Gra Gra were on board the merry bus. Still, no name, no concepts, no hitch, no catchcry, no team uniform.

So, Herc, Langy and Gadj sat around Herc's PC (thank god for the internet) and scoured the globe in search of a team name. Duly inspired by the offer from Inzy to drive all 8 of us to and from the game, we thought that something along the lines of the Thunderbirds would be appropriate. Inzy's 1985 Tarago would be adorned with rocket launchers as we trapsed to and from the games. The Thunderbirds would appear from the darkness, all dressed accordingly in the fabled Thunderbird uniform and play, get pissy and then stagger, in true Thunderbird fashion, back to the bus for the trip home. Hmm, fraught with problems though in that the uniform would be cumbisome and the Thunderbirds doesn't tug at the heartstrings. After toying with Hawaii Five-O, The Hair Bear Bunch and a few other novelty cartoon icons, it was decided that the Partridge Famulee (obvious rip off of the beloved singing family) was to be our name. And then the catchcry. Well what a better one than C'mon get happy which we play from the "ghecko blaster". We then went on a vigorous drinking, I mean, recruiting campaign which sooner and later unearthed such talents as Greg "WA WA" Stephenson, Rob "Chucker" Keast, Rod "Just call me Ron" Penfound. Such talents were only further bolstered by some inept displays at batting, bowling and catching. Soon to be added to the team list was Luke "Sticks" Hickey, Peter "Schlang" Bolton, Murray "Muzz" Glanville. The side was filled with the Great Man, Greg "WA WA" Stephenson donning the boots for a run after a long sojurn in indoor cricket wilderness after being hit a nasty blow whilst fielding in close in a mixed game.

So, all we needed was the shirts. Sticks came up with the idea of Hawaiin shirts, which his mate Morris "Mojo" Wilson, incorrectly overheard as Hawaiin pizza and he too jumped on the party bandwagon and signed on the dotted line. Sticks gave the idea to Gadj who promptly saw a hole in the opposition defence and ran with it. After a brief interlude with Ivan, from Ivan's Discounted Fashions (our proud sponsor who gives us nothing!), Gadj came away bewildered that Ivan could slug us $23 for a Centrelink coloured Hawaiin shirt.

As per anything this motley group of public servants does, it has gotten out of hand. We now have a home page, a fines system, a regular sports brief, a houndstooth jacket to celebrate player of the season and general havoc. Of course there are some people who keep everything slightly sane. Thanks to those who bring us down to earth every now and again.

We pride ourselves in making complete and utter fools of ourselves at every given opportunity. Late additions to the team, Stuart "Skip" Dunn and Marty " No Look" Beggs are tantamount to that theory. The silly part is, we really strive to be mediocre. Sometimes we're not even good at being mediocre though. We either excell in it, or we weaken and win a premiership!

Some of the boys have come and gone, that being the nature of the ACT. Our first departed hero was Trev "Gilly" Rossiter who sadly departed one season before the greatest event in our history, but not before claiming one of Sticks' nads in the process. Next was founding member Gadj who is currently chasing the lurid dollar on his voyage across this great land recruiting the next generation for the Famulee. To those lads we say "Give us the fu¢k!ng shirt back".

Anyway, have a look round the homepage and we hope you enjoy it. If you'd like to meet and greet any of the players, please contact me on and I'll be happy to tee you up with one of the boys/girls. Alternately, we play at Tony Blardyfarkens' Weston ICA, Weston ACT. Tony's Blardyhopeless at organising a pissup even in the bar upstairs and even with this fantastic publicity, he won't even buy us a drink this coming Tuesday you watch. Scumbag. Call Tony on 1800-botch-job and he'll be glad to fill you in on what time we're playing each Tuesday night.

The player profiles are my personal favourite. Check them out to get a greater insight into how motley this motley crue really are.

Anyone wanting to become a member of the club, please send a money order for $350.95 to "Miholidayinmajorca", care of Tony Blardyfarken's Weston ICA.

C'mon Get Happy

Reuben Kincaid
Partridge Famulee Sporting Club