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Remember that booby-trapped room in the “Indiana Jones” movies where heavy stone walls decorated with large spears slowly close in on the victim from all angles? Steve Kearney is now indisputably inside one of these killer relics at Parramatta.
What’s worse, I’m not sighting any immediate assistance from a sidekick or 1980′s blonde starlet to save him from the death squeeze.
In recent weeks, the hasta la vista Parra-trap has been perilously close to his rump with one oversized bayonet steathily poised in a position somewhere around two valuable inches from his backside.
After last night’s dark showing against Penrith, it’s in contact with flesh and may be beginning to pierce the skin’s surface.
And the unmistakable scream of a coach in an imminent crush is quickly filling the air.
Forget what the board boffins in Eel territory keep feeding the media. There’s no way that affairs can be considered rosy out at Parramatta after last night.
I don’t think the word ‘restless’ does justice to the emotions being felt by the natives at this point.
So far in season 2012, the enthusiasts have been loyally cautious in accepting the feed of reassurances that Steve is locked in for the long term and that he’s the architect of the rebuild in the golden west.
But taking the candy from management can only be maintained for so long before you start to realise you are chewing back a brussel sprout.
You’ve got to feel for the bloke as he’s widely considered one of league’s nice guys. But sentiment can only stretch the limited patience of the employer so far, especially in the unforgiving environment of Parramatta.
I’m not going to cave in and use the tried and tested ‘club in crisis’ angle; we all know that these situations move in cycles, and besides, the Titans hold that mantle right now.
This whole thing could be forgotten in a month if they string some wins together. But a turnaround of that fashion would be compared to some kind of religious sighting based on current returns.
In terms of pure football results, how long can you see the tolerance of these kinds of scores lasting before the trigger-happy board dusts off the firing squad that Denis Fitzgerald used to so covet?
In my eyes, I reckon they are on standby.
High expectations lagging from their golden years, bugger-all progress in 2012 and the sports culture of ‘blame boss/protect players’ has me crossing my fingers and praying to Jeebers for Steve and his position in the Parra tracksuit.
I’m not sure if my appeals for divine intervention will be enough to stop him being impaled though.