Usually after a match, the assembled rugby scribes dawdle their way to the official press conferences, where the two coaches have their say.

This has a lot to do with years of enduring coach-speak. There are only so many times you can hear, "The score is on the scoreboard", "We'll take it one game at a time", or "It was a game of two halves", before you start to wonder whether you've gone bonkers.


No wonder the press corp generally head to the conference with heads bowed, sullen looks and a fear that life is about to become drearier.

However, after Saturday night's Queensland-ACT dirgefest at Suncorp Stadium, there was a crazed rush among the media to be the first in the conference room. Little old ladies were shoved out of the way and small kiddies with autograph books were tripped up as the media sprinted and scurried around every corner as if they were involved in the running of the bulls.

It was all because everyone wanted front-row seats to the evening performance of The Eddie Jones Show.

He's the best entertainment going around in Brisbanal.

Since being shafted by the Australian Rugby Union, Jones has enlivened the Queensland Reds. You can see why he is known as either Fast Eddie or Fighting Harada, as the former Wallabies coach is prepared to take on anyone, any time.

He is the ultimate street fighter, with a voice that grinds away like a dentist's drill. Having digs at the ARU. Sledging referees. Sledging opponents. Sledging former colleagues. Using every possible means to undermine his enemies.


No wonder when Jones enters the media room, every journalist attempts to ram his tape recorder right up the coach's left nostril. You don't want to miss one word of Fast Eddie.

When he was Wallabies coach, his press conferences were always enlivening, thoughtful, provocative. One looked forward in Test week to his Thursday sermon. Endless quotable quotes.

And with the Reds, Fast Eddie has picked up the pace. He was at his best on Saturday night. Even before the match, he was captivating.

When the teams are warming up on the field, most coaches stand back and observe. Not Fast Eddie. He is in the thick of it. Running alongside the players, barking orders, offering advice. He often shows better toe than some of his backline players. He then decided to stare out the Brumbies, who were at the other end of the field. You cannot stop watching him.

Fast Eddie had slowed down a bit by press conference time, but his tongue was still working overtime. His main theme was to give the match referee Matt Goddard an almighty serve.

In the days leading up to the game, Jones has started on Goddard with a light pitter patter. There were mischievous comments over whether Goddard, or the ACT's George Gregan would actually officiate the game. There were backhanded compliments about Goddard, and pointed references to how Gregan manipulated referees. The drip treatment had begun.

After the match, the pitter patter turned into a wild barrage of left jabs and right hooks. And there was no neutral corner.

Yet there were other themes that were intermingled with the mangling of Goddard.

Jones questioned the logic of playing rugby during the cricket season. A cricket fanatic, he often brings up a flannelled fool analogy, and to explain the amount of fumbles in the Reds-Brumbies game, reminded everyone that before he came to Suncorp he'd been watching a Tasmania-Victoria one-dayer on television.

So if "you want to play rugby at this time of the year in subtropical heat in Brisbane, when the temperature is 90 degrees", there are consequences.

Then he gave Gregan, his old Wallabies skipper, another tickle-up, explaining the reason his opponent Nic Berry suddenly vomited on the field, was that he "probably got sick of George talking to him".

Then it was exit left.

At the end of every press conference, Jones habitually says, 'Thanks, guys!".

It is high time all the rugby media reptiles stood as one, and replied, 'No, no, thank you, Fast Eddie".