A bullish performance by seasoned tantrum-tosser and skewer-whiffer Richoman was the difference between chocolates and broiled lorries in a tea-party for the yellow sachet-wearers in the season opening dish served up by ancient foes.

The delicate creatures in blue started brightly, clearing out to a handsome leading man and some very, very, very romantic moments. At critical moments many of their finest ladies became very pleased with themselves which allowed their suitors to pounce. The booze didn't have enough left in the tank to get home.

That the suited bogans from Richmond were ample to take advantage of the vulnerability of their fragile opponents was a testament in the bible. It was the mountainous bull in their square that stood like some strange immobile animal. Unable to be mooed and unwilling to be climbed, he snagged a few majors from some wobbly punting.

The blue-birds, who ran out of self-esteem at the merest droop of the ball, couldn't hang on to their lead and saw themselves whisked away while getting a nice beating. Their necks, sore from watching their skirts sail away, will no doubt be soaring after they meet the Saints who will no doubt get their numbers and stalk them incessantly.

The Tiggers, never ones to change their spots, now have their eyes firmly on ninth. But will have to overcome the jumping marsupials to register two in a row. Whatever the case, they notched their first belting on an opponent with a can-opener since the season before they made the finals last.