Papa Rellena is still just a stuffed spud.

By Arc Fine Food Critic - Cooky Pudding

We at the Arc often wonder what it would be like to be embarrassed of the captain of your football club. How it would feel to know that the entire football world is laughing at your club because of the choice of your captain. Knowing they’re laughing because your captain is nothing more than a big three course meal of spud.

Of course I’m talking about the Collingwood Football Club and their choice of Nick Maxwell as captain. Surely it is with utter shame and a sense of complete embarrassment that fans of this powerful and traditional club hang their heads at the mere mention of his name. That his name is up there with greats like Nathan Buckley, Lou Richards, Des Tuddenham, Syd Coventry and Tony Shaw (we’re being generous Tony) must surely rankle even the most one-eyed, one toothed, parolee.

The Arc is at a complete loss as to the reasoning behind this decision. What is it about this generous helping of mash that makes him captain material? There is nothing, nothing about Nick Maxwell that would compel the Arc to name him captain of a garbage scow let alone the captain of a powerful football club like Collingwood.

Mr chips runs around the back half of the ground without an opponent game after game collecting cheap and junkinsh touches. On the very odd ocassion when he does get an opponent it is rarely the best forward. Game after game he tries to impose himself as some kind of hard man by beating up on players half his size or young kids playing their first year of football. And have you ever seen him kick for goal? He makes Travis Cloke look like Matthew Lloyd.

I guess this is hardly suprising with a list full of spuds. How is it that Josh Fraser gets the plaudits that he does? For a number one draft pick Josh Fraser is a plate of chips with a side of roast potatos. A flat track bully at best, he performs well against little opposition and splatters like a lump of shit when confronted with some pressure or a half decent opponent.

Travis Cloke, is there any worse set shot in the game? "Hello Miss Shopkeeper, I'd like a giant fuck off packet of Salt & Vinegar chips thanks." He's had two reasonable games; one against a fucking hapless Fremantle and the other against a less than impressive Essendon outfit. He cannot kick goals. And have you heard him speak? He sounds like a bender with a speech impediment who is about to cry.

The fickle media fall all over these players and praise them for something they are defintely not.

Papa Rellena is still just a stuffed spud.

And so it goes.