#catching practice

[tiernatime]

Sheridan really staring down Kerr like “now what was that?”

[wobblyheadedbull]

Gotta catch ‘em all...

Aargh!

Aaaaaargh!!

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarggggghhhhh!!!



We lost to Oldham because they outmuscled us; we lost to Rochdale because they outsmarted us; we lost to Featherstone because they out, well, they out-everythinged us.

We lost to Halifax because we couldn’t keep hold of the damn ball.

The standard of Rugby League in the current Championship is not high - hell, the standard in Super League outside the top few teams is nothing to shout about - and Bradford Bulls’ embryonic mob did not lose to Halifax because they weren’t as talented, or as able, as them - man to man I’d be comfortable to say the lads in black & off-black were every bit the equals, if not the betters, of those hooped in blue & white this Sunday.

The result came out as it did because in an eighty minute game our Bulls completed less sets than you can count on one foot. The opportunity to reach positive points was lost, not with a bang and a crash, but with a slip, and a fumble, and another, and again, and on, and on, and on, and on, and on, and on, and on, and…

Basically we were bad at catching, and it’s close cousin, not-dropping.

Obviously that final ankle skimmer is the one which sticks sharpest in the mind, but truth be told, as I stood, open-jawed, gawping back at Ethan Ryan through the clear space which had opened up between us; seeing that leathery egg tumble clumsily shinward - it was not dramatic exasperation I felt, but weary acceptance - of course that’s what would happen, we’d spent a whole afternoon bumbling the ball to the floor, why should that change just because the hooter had sounded and there were no more chances? There was no force in the universe strong enough to buck that particular trend and let us walk out of The Shay with proper smiles on our faces.

Nearly thirty hours later it still smarts, not that we were beaten, but that we beat ourselves.

I still see effort, I still see ability, and I still see a team who are absolutely capable of doing themselves the honour of keeping afloat by merit, regardless of the decisions made around them.

But I sure see a team who need to spend most of the next six days throwing balls at each other until they’re capable of plucking them safely from the air while asleep, or sky-diving, or both.

Six games from ten - minimum - now needed.

It’s on the brink of impossible.

But is is possible.

It is.