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A few quasi-stochastic thoughts from League Blog prior to the game on everyone's lips ( Storm-Broncos).

Period piece
No, League Blog isn't talking about one of our favourite bands, the Wandering Menstruals, this is about the two all-important periods that make up a big rugby league game.

- Softening up period: Probably the most well-known period, takes place in the first 10 minutes. Involves gang tackles, neanderthal grunts from commentators and plenty of rear slapping from teammates. Also known as the sauteeing or browning period. See also roasting period.

- Money time: The last 15 minutes before half time and the first 15 minutes after half time. This is where the big players earn their money. Defences get tired, and the opportunity to seize the day, and the piggybank, is there for players with the skill and love of league to do so.

Anyone who knows league knows that no other parts of the game really affect the outcome. There is a small argument I suppose for a third critical period, which we might call the Popcorn and a DVD period in honour of Daniel Anderson's unorthodox halftime antics during the Warriors-Roosters grand final back in '02. For those who don't know, he played a video of a victorious Warriors grand final, presumably with CGI effects by LucasFilms, which so underwhelmed the team they went out and got flogged.

God
By now it's obvious that God wants the Eels to win. For the other three teams involved, the only solace is that this pale blue dot of a planet is so f***ed up it's clear God doesn't always get what she wants.

Spare a thought also for the Roosters. The Hillsong pastor that turned the Eels form around was initially invited to help out Easts, but declined, saying "God doesn't hang out with losers."

Satan
Is League Blog alone in thinking that Wests Tigers pulled a Robert Johnson in 2005 to win the grand final? They went down to the crossroads, sold their soul to the Devil for a title, and have had the blues ever since.

Anticipation
As Tooley once confided in League Blog, anticipation can be a far greater aphrodisiac than any real life events. Who among us can wait until that first hit-up tonight? Who can restrain themselves at the thought of Phil Gould's prematch oratory? Who hasn't envisioned the glorious circumstances that will see their team smother the other team's dreams and advance to the Grand Final? This truly is a great time for fans of remaining teams, soured only by the thought that this match doesn't have a hope in hell of living up to expectations; that after all is said and done, we realise it was only a game; that like Gatsby, reality never stood a chance compared to our dreams; then we wake, soiled and humiliated by our earlier thoughts of grandeur. I had to cut Tooley off there, as I had an appointment to go to.

Go you Dogs!