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WORLD CUPDATE XVIII: THE DARK SIDE OF THE FARCE
I knew things were about to go boss-eyed around 11:30, that's when I received a text from my brother: Rain! A snag, yes, but who knew the final would culminate in such a fiasco. Even if, in a perverse way, it served to cap the debacle that was WC2007. It was bloody funny, too. The great pity is that it turned what should have been Gilchrist's Match into an embarrassing joke.
Nor were the omens auspicious. Sam Newman didn't think we would win the World Cup because it is rigged against us. Tim Lane wrote that it would be better if the Shrees won, but he was probably having an off day given he also compared cricket to the 1986 Edinburgh Commonwealth Games. The Demons got belted - again. And I had a chronic guts ache, so last night I wasn't able to do a mozz post. It was this, and not so much the guts ache, which played on my mind all night. Those of you uneducated in the way of the mozz will think I'm mad, those of you savvy in these matters know exactly where I'm coming from.
TEEM OF OFFICIALS
Morgan, Alarm, Bowfingers and Rudy have given us plenty of grief. To be fair, they've also given us a pretty good recent run. Naturally, as soon as you give them the benefit of the doubt they bite you as they joined with Jeff Crowe to make a complete balls up of this morning's light business yesterday night.
HEAD-TO-HEAD
The Aussies are the better side, but the match-ups suggested we might struggle if the Shrees got amongst our top order exposing Shameless and Sideshow to Murali. Not sure if Hussey has ever faced him, not sure if he's faced anyone lately, and Roy bombed in 2004. Clarke would have had minimal exposure, too. Thankfully, Gilly saved his best for the final.
THE STREAK
Twenty-three wins on the trot was hanging over our head with Damoclean menace; surely we had to lose sometime.
DREADGBASTON
Punter may have been tempted to bowl when he won the toss. Rain, sweaty covers, greeny top. But we know he's never again going to put the other side in.
DO THE DUCKYLOO
Then, just when you thought things were about to arrive at their loonnng-awaited conclusion, God chucked in a 24'', chrome-vanadium, adjustable spanner (with Advanced TorquePlus Fastening!) - it was raining and the match revisited the 2003 final.
DOPES ROPED
Really, though, if we'd lost it would have been a rank injustice, or Sammy Newman was onto something and not just being paranoid.
Going by orthodox wisdom Australia are gawn. Haven't won in ages, injuries galore, bowlers couldn't hit the front of a sightscreen, can't defend, fielding is sloppy, Yarprica on a roll, Engerland full of confidence, Un Zud hooped on cock. It all adds up to a combination of crisis, panic stations, disarray, trouble AND strife.
To listen to the pundits' flack you'd think Australia had lost each match by an innings. Geese. Australia have merely refused to show their hand through a tedious series of slightly strenuous practice matches in which key players have been rested and possibles trialled, thus lulling their too-quick-to-gloat adversaries into a lethal trap. Come in spinners.
Did no one see the smiles on the Aussie faces as the Kiwis went the tonk in the Chadlee? Sure, they would have liked to win, who doesn't. But did they really care? Is the Pope a German. I mean, who can take Craig McMillan seriously when it matters? Those were the cheery - and not even slightly embarrassed - smiles of sportsmen quietly confident their plans were about to bear fruition.
It will be satisfying indeed when Sorth Efrica shit themselves in the semi final; NZ have their usual overexpectations deflated by an outsider; and England fail to get out of the group stage, dudded by too many reverse sweeps.
Never. In. Doubt.
FYBERSPACE
Posted by Tony on Sunday, April 29, 2007 at 14:25 | Comments (24)
Category: Cricket (502) , World Cup 2007 (20)
GROG BLOG
To mark four years off the piss I give you the story of grog, courtesy of Brewer's:
Grog. Spirits; properly rum diluted with water. In 1740 Admiral Vernon, when Commander-in-Chief West Indies, substituted watered-down rum for the neat spirit then issued to both officers and men. The admiral was nicknamed Old Grog from his grogram coat and the name was transferred to the new beverage.
A mighty bowl on deck he drew;
And filled it to the brink;
Such drank the Burford's gallant crew,
And such the gods shall drink,
The sacred robe which Vernon wore
Was drenched within the same;
And hence his virtues guard our shore,
And Grog derives its name~~ TT: Written on board the Berwick
Grog was originally issue twice daily, as a quarter of a pint of rum with a pint of water. The ration was cut to one issue in 1824 and reduced to a half-gill in 1850. The issue to the officers was stopped in 1881 and to warrant officers in 1918. Grog ration to all ratings ended on 31 July 1970.
Posted by Tony on Friday, April 27, 2007 at 09:45 | Comments (33)
Category: Trivia (12)
WORLD CUPDATE XVII: MAUL GUNS BLAZING
So, Sorth Efrica's plan was to come out firing and put Straya on the back foot from the start. That worked well.
"The latest chapter in South Africa's sorry World Cup history was put down to a case of stage fright as South Africa once again suffered semi-final heartache at the hands of Australia. The much-vaunted South African top order, including Jacques Kallis and Graeme Smith, was back inside the pavilion within the first ten overs as they collapsed to 27 for 5 in a sequence that left some of their former team-mates stunned."
Listening on the wahless it was obvious that as soon as Smith and Kallis were gone, so were SA.
Striking a top-order balance between sensible tonking and recklessness is the key to one day cricket. Maybe they were goaded into it by the Strayans' pre-match barbs, maybe not. Certainly it was out of character for Jacks. Whatever way you look at it, they got the balance wrong.
(Mind you, Gilly's been getting it wrong, too; fortunately, Flatty's been getting it very right.)
Then, on the back of those two dismissals, the rest of the lineup decided they'd better not move their feet. AB, Prince, Boucher (What's he doing coming in fifth drop?), Gibbs and Hall - rubbish shots. Nor would their bowlers trouble us on anything other than a minefield. What a lame attack.
It's tempting to label SA chokers, but this time round they didn't choke, they weren't good enough to choke.
Last word to Adam Bacher: "It was boys against men," he said on public television. "They taught us a cricket lesson."
WHO'S YOUR DADDY?
"Kemp is beaten having a hard-handed grope at the wrong'un."
Posted by Tony on Thursday, April 26, 2007 at 12:15 | Comments (14)
Category: Cricket (502) , World Cup 2007 (20)
WORLD CUPDATE XVI: GRIN AND BOER IT
We're gone. I know it, you all know it, Dean Jones knows it. "Woke up this morning with a bad feeling; I just think we're going to blow it." That, on 3AW today, was met with a hearty "No way!" but he's merely echoing the thoughts of many Aussie fans. While the media fatheads can afford to be upbeat - win and they can beat up the final, lose and they can beat up an upset - the rest of us know something's about to go wrong. We bat first on a greeny. Flatty finally flops. Gilly continues his dud form. Punter runs himself out again. Clarke, well, gets out. Sideshow Roy hits a quick-fire 18. Shameless can't get going. Paper Cut holes out trying to resurrect the innings. The tail make donkeys of themselves. Shit gets wickets galore. Then South Africa bat, the pitch has settled down, we drop a few, and they do it easy.
Tell me I'm wrong.
The worst thing about this World Cup is that you miss most of the action. The best thing about this World Cup is that you miss most of the action.
If there's a bigger wanker in world cricket than Graeme Smith, I haven't seen him. People rabbit on about how arrogant, nasty and vile the Aussies are, but the idea of Smith smugging on about how they've gotten the monkey off their back is too much to bear.
On the upside - well done Sri Lanka for getting rid of Un Zud. Who here doesn't work with an irritating kiwi? Imagine going to work next week and having to put up with all that "we the bist, bro", followed by something on the underarm and, for good measure, chapter and verse about nitball and the 1976 Olympic hockey final. Hideous. No, despite Murali's continued theft of wickets, I can't bring myself to dislike the rest of the Shrees. Vaas, the two Jayas, Sangers, all class. Now it's down to them to do the right thing and thump Sorth Efrica in the final. Better still, beat them in dodgy circs.
Posted by Tony on Wednesday, April 25, 2007 at 19:25 | Comments (33)
Category: Cricket (502) , World Cup 2007 (20)
BY THE SLICE
The owners of Zizzi must have thought it was funny to name their restaurant after the French slang for willy. Bet they're not laughing now. Well, not out loud.
Docs fight to save man's willy
HORRIFIED diners watched in shock as a maniac sliced off his manhood in a crowded pizza restaurant.
Posted by Tony on Tuesday, April 24, 2007 at 16:40 | Comments (13)
Category:
WORLD CUPDATE XV: LAMBS TO THE LAUGHTER
Excellent banner at the cricket last night: "Lose, or the sheep gets it!"
Most banners are rubbish, but the occasional one has been top shelf. Personal favourites include "No fat chicks". Oops. I meant its follow up "Eat more chooks". Then there was "This used to be my mum's best sheet" and one from the wrestling "The guy behind me can't see".
Not much else excellent at D'Arbeau Park, Grenada, rhymes with Canada. Yes, we slogged them then rolled them for rock all. Flatty had another day out. Paper Cut looked B.I.T. Who knew Mr Fragile hit the ball so hard. And Michael Clarke gave us one of the more interesting dismissals. I pride myself on being able to pick precisely what happens technique-wise when batsmen play shots, but I had absolutely no idea what Clarke was up to, leaving a slow ball on middle stump.
But you can't deem any win excellent when the other team, yet again, rests two of its best players. Stupid tournament. Asad Rauf made a couple of bizarre no ball calls, one off McGrath, one off Larry Tait. Gilly fell to a textbook S.G.W. And the Styris 'beard' is a disgrace to facial hair everywhere.
So that leaves two of SA, SL and NZ. We beat all three comfortably, but needed two slices of luck to get us going against Sorth Efrica, while the Shrees and UnZud treated the matches as trials. In fact, we've cruised through all nine matches so far, never much challenged, rarely put under sustained pressure, which leaves me more than a little uncomfortable pondering this reply from Stephen Fleming when asked if SA could beat Straya:
"I do and that's because it's a one-off game. It could be the toss, Australia have a bad day or Herschelle Gibbs plays extremely well. There are so many factors in one day cricket."
Posted by Tony on Saturday, April 21, 2007 at 20:40 | Comments (5)
Category: Cricket (502) , World Cup 2007 (20)
THINNING EDGE OF THE SLEDGE
Where to now for sledging? Race is out. Sexuality is out. Family is out. "Times have changed," we are told. "Society has moved on." A good thing, too.
So anyway, two batsmen botch an easy run:
Batsman to batsman: "Don't worry, no run there, anyway."
Fieldsman: "Sure, mate, maybe at the Paralympics."
Posted by Tony on Friday, April 20, 2007 at 13:05 | Comments (14)
Category: Aussie Rules (280)
WITHWITS!
This whole Headland/Selwood rumpus has been a fiasco from the get go. What a pack of animals. Headland, Selwood, the media, the tribunal, the Wanchors, the Illeagles and anyone else you care to toss into the shitty mix.
For me, it's this from Selwood that takes the baked confection:
Selwood said he had no idea the person on the tattoo was Headland's daughter. "All I knew is that it was a female." He said that after being punched in the stomach by Headland, he responded by saying: "What's that shit on your arm? I was with a girl like that the other night."
No trouble with the first part. Who knew Headland was the sort of dickhead who'd get a tat of his daughter. A flippin' awful tat, at that. But does Selwood take the rest of us for idiots? Are we seriously supposed to believe him when he states, quite categorically, that he politely remarked "I was with a girl like that the other night."? Young footballer. In a match. All set for a punch up. "I was with a girl like that." Get the with out of here.
Doubtless the tribunal didn't believe him, either. It can be the only explanation for them letting Headland off.
Posted by Tony on Thursday, April 19, 2007 at 14:10 | Comments (30)
Category: Aussie Rules (280)
WORLD CUPDATE XIV: NAPOGEE
One of the main criticisms levelled at 50 over cricket is that the tedious go-around of meaningless matches swamps the impact of all but the very best games.
One of the main attractions of the World Cup is that, for once, here are those very best games.
"Can't wait for the World Cup to start," goes the typical refrain. "Then we'll see some proper action."
Until now.
In their zeal to cash in on limited over cricket's show-piece, the ICC have turned WC2007 into the very thing most people dislike about limited over cricket.
Any excitement that may have been generated by a World Cup of Phoodboll qualifier/knockout format has been ruthlessly suppressed by cricket's current qualifier/Super8 format.
Yes, the last three matches may well prove exciting, but it's taking an absolute age to get there. Even as late as this morning, four weeks into the tournament, the Shrees were content to put on a practice match.
What a fiasco.
Anyhoo, here's something you don't see every day, a reasonable, if willfully dramatic, article at CricInfo.
Sri Lanka's captain, Mahela Jayawardene, tried to deny that his key bowlers, Muttiah Muralitharan and Chaminda Vaas, (and the injured Lasith Malinga) had been rested for tactical reasons, but nobody truly believed his protestations. When you set a trap for a beast as big, powerful and terrifying as the Australians, timing is everything. To have sprung a major surprise in a game as meaningless as this encounter had become would have been a criminal waste of their energies.
It's like Telstra Dome management, who have stopped people leaving the ground to buy cheaper food from the local eateries. "We have stopped it for safety reasons." I'm sure someone, somewhere, eventually, will believe it.
Not that I take issue with the Shree tactic, just the idea they can fine tune when things should be getting hot. About now, every match should count.
For the record, I would still be staggered if Australia managed to win the World Cup. Purely on the law of averages, we've got to lose a big WC game sooner or later. Despite the Yarpies (or the Poms) lack of zest so far, a semi against either looms as a tough gig. While a final against UnZud or the Shrees is tailor made for Miller's ambush.
And who amongst us doesn't have a nagging suspicion that our semi or final will be decided by the toss. That despite the excellent track record (Boom! Tish!) so far, lurking just around the corner is the mother of all sticky, greentopped, up-and-down, minefields.
Posted by Tony on Tuesday, April 17, 2007 at 14:55 | Comments (17)
Category: Cricket (502) , World Cup 2007 (20)
WORLD CUPDATE XIII: LEPREYAWN
So I went to bed with Ireland 5 for 42. (42 for 5, if you must.) Did I miss anything?
Posted by Tony on Saturday, April 14, 2007 at 17:10 | Comments (10)
Category: Cricket (502) , World Cup 2007 (20)
FOR FLOCK'S SAKE?
Posted by Tony on Friday, April 13, 2007 at 13:45 | Comments (10)
Category: Melbourne (24)
IF I'VE TOLD YOU ONCE, I'VE TOLD YOU 2000 TIMES
Posted by Tony on Wednesday, April 11, 2007 at 16:55 | Comments (22)
Category: Blogging (26)
WORLD CUPDATE XII: RULE 323
BODY LANGUAGE
Yes, it's only a decimal point, but surely if you are going to detail a rule, you get your rule right:
Caught Out: Tempers frayed in the 42nd over of Australia's innings when an Andrew Symonds shot was grabbed on the mid-wicket fence by Kevin Pietersen. In trying to make the catch, Pietersen struggled to avoid stepping on the rope and eventually threw the ball back into play before he toppled over the boundary. Under cricket's Rule 3.23, the fieldsman "must have complete control over both the ball and over his own moment". Symonds was ruled not out.
That would be Rule 32.3, which relates to the fieldman's movement.
JON JOB
What to make of Jon Pierik's claim "skipper Mike Brearley said [my emphasis] later he had tried to con the umpire". In fact what Vaughan said was "I was trying to say that he [KP] had it in his hand in control, his weight was in control. It was a difficult one, but being honest he had no control of his waist. We were clutching a bit there." This journalistic license, this putting words in player's mouths, is something that really grates. Still, imagine the fuss had it been Ponting trying to "con the umpire".
TWEAK LINK
Crash Craddock has an article in the Herald Sun relating to Australia's part-time bowlers (Clarke and Symonds) being targetted by opposition batsmen. It's a fair call. It always struck me that the reason Australia were able to get to the 1999 World Cup final was because when South Africa had Australia under pressure in the Super Six match, Nicky Boje came on to bowl.
Let's hope Tait, McGrath, Bracken and Hogg can continue to deliver, and that our opponents fail to capitalise on our fifth bowler.
And since Wicky & Bruce were right - Sunday's Monday morning match was indeed a humdrum, low key drubbing - let's hope Australia hand out many more humdrum, low key drubbings.
Posted by Tony on Tuesday, April 10, 2007 at 13:55 | Comments (16)
Category: Cricket (502) , World Cup 2007 (20)
WHERE THE MILD THINGS ARE
Posted by Tony on Monday, April 9, 2007 at 18:15 | Comments (8)
Category: Aussie Rules (280)
WORLD CUPDATE XI: PROTHETIC
No time to post yesterday, but it's never too late to revel in the Proteas getting whipped.
But it would be a lousy cheap-shot to raise the spectre of Hansie Cronje, so I won't.
Posted by Tony on Sunday, April 8, 2007 at 12:05 | Comments (12)
Category: Cricket (502) , World Cup 2007 (20)
CULTURE CLUB
Long feature on blogging in today's Age: The Blogs That Ate Cyberspace.
IT HAS been the most extraordinary rise, and it happened while you probably weren't even looking. In just under a decade, the blog has swamped the virtual world, multiplying at a rate usually seen only inside Petri dishes. Some now say it is poised to deliver a killer blow to mainstream media, others reckon it to be a fad that will soon be forgotten.
The hack, Dan Silkstone (also a blogger, although it doesn't say where he blogs), gives the caper a balanced write-up, neither proclaiming blogs mean the end of journalism as we know it, or conversely, that blogs are doomed. There are lots of stats, history on the early development of blogging and even a pop at the internet's "insatiable invention of new words". A point with which I'm in complete congreement.
While he mentions ten heavy hitters, a couple of whom I've heard of, he doesn't mention me or the AGB, which is quite an oversight. But neither does he mention any local blogs, thus preventing me from getting jealous. He also wisely steers clear of trying to define what makes a good blog and even wiser still, avoids any dismal Schembri-like attempts at "satire". Or as we sneer on the internets, schembrire.
In fact, it's not too shabby at all.
And of course he mentions cats. Where are we with cats? First people posted pictures of their cats. Then people started making jokes about people who posted pictures of their cats. It can't be long before people make jokes about people who make jokes about people who post pictures of their cats. Where to from here?
Posted by Tony on Saturday, April 7, 2007 at 23:20 | Comments (15)
Category: Blogging (26)
HOT CROSS STUNNER
So you've seen Lock, Stock, Honour and Obey Sexy Gangster No. 1 Layer Cake and you think yer hard? Well yer nothing, not even a fuckin' toe rag, until you've clocked the biggest, baddest Brit gangster movie of 'em all, The Long Good Friday.
(1980. Colour. Script: Barry Keeffe. Direction: John MacKenzie. Cinematography: Phil Meheux. Score: Francis Monkman.)
It's Good Friday and Harold Shand (Bob Hoskins) has just Concorded back to London from the other side of the pond. He marches through Heathrow as the credits roll over the brassy bouncy theme song (think Roy Budd meets Elton John), every cocky little inch the Napoleon of the London underworld ("Who's big enough to take you on?" "Well, there were a few." "Like who?", "Yeah, they're all dead.").
He's got bent city aldermen and the filth on his payroll and he's about to go seriously legit, having stitched up a pact with the US Mafia to wash their casino skim through redeveloping the London Docklands.
To seal the deal, he just has to wine, dine and sweet talk a Yankee mob boss (the late great Eddie 'Alphaville' Constantine) over the long Easter weekend while showing off his London manor. Piece of cake, right?
But someone has just declared war on Harold. ("Nothing unusual," he says! Eric's been blown to smithereens, Colin's been carved up, and I've got a bomb in me casino, and you say nothing unusual?")
So for starters, Harold and his faithful minder Razors ("Or as the youth of today call him, the human spirograph.") start checking a few leads out ("Go on shoot him! Put some muck on the walls.").
But no joy there, chummy, and things keep escalating ("You don't crucify people! Not on Good Friday!"). Someone out there really wants the big smoke's godfather wrecked and ruined.
Meanwhile his upper-class mistress (Helen Mirren) tries to hose down the Mafia bigwigs ("The Yanks love snobbery. They really feel they've arrived in England if the upper class treats 'em like shit.") who are getting freaked out by the level of violence in merry olde England.
So Harold pulls out all the stops, sending his mob-handed and weaponed-up crew out ("Remember, scare the shit out of them, but don't damage them. I want 'em conscious and talkative. And lads, try and be discreet, eh?") to literally turn the London underworld upside-down.
And just as Harold finds out whom he's really up against, the Mafia bails 'cos it's just getting too rich for their blood. Harold takes this badly ("A sleeping partner's one thing, but you're in a fucking coma!") but remains undaunted and decides to go all continental instead ("I'm setting up the biggest deal in Europe with the hardest organization since Hitler stuck a swastika on his jockstrap.").
All he has do now to win his promised world is personally settle one outstanding account. And he does. But the other side doesn't keep books like decent gangsters. Also they employ a silent but nubile young Pierce Brosnan as one of their main killers.
The final scene between him and Bob Hoskins, underpinned by Francis Monkman's killer soundtrack, is pure "Death On The Serengeti" evil cat meets big elephant face off with neither twitching more than an odd muscle. Best screen showdown ever. And I say that as a hardcore Sergio Leone aficionado. It really is that good. (OK, your mileage may vary here, you fucking toerag.)
GrogFlog’s verdict: "It's Good Friday. Have a Bloody Mary." 9 out of 10 thumps around the earhole.
Coming soon: Yes, finally Oliver Reed and irradiated kids, how opera and splatter flicks can play together well and a big rabbit punch for a truly crappy movie that tried to sell itself otherwise.
Posted by Nabakov on Friday, April 6, 2007 at 17:40 | Comments (4)
Category: Film Reviews (18) , Nabakov (17)
WORLD CUPDATE X: THE EMPIRE STRIKES BACK
A "logical angle" in the PakTribune.
Regarding the death of Bob Woolmer in suspicious circumstances there is a lot of hearsay in reference to the murder; the commonest being the role of the 'bookies'. But I would like to mention another logical angle of this murder. The concerned authorities should keep in mind that it is quite possible that Darryl Hair and his compatriot Australian cricket team may be behind this murder, considering this as the most appropriate time to take revenge from the Pakistani cricket team for bringing an end to the empire's career. Therefore it seems imperative for the Caribbean police authorities that fingerprints and DNA samples of the Australian cricket team members should be taken as well.
Shafiqur Rahman
Rawalpindi
Courtesy of Andy B, long time reader and lurker.
Posted by Tony on Thursday, April 5, 2007 at 21:35 | Comments (11)
Category: Cricket (502) , World Cup 2007 (20)
PUN FITS ALL
Slatts off to Hats for his headline: RIP Snorter. Excellent. At first I thought he was going to wax lyrical on that other great man, the director of the Porky's, recently killed in a car crash. He'll be missed by those who believe more movies ought to be aimed at teenagers to capitalize on their refined taste.
Should you not feel the urge to stop for a moment's silence, both for Porky and teen finesse, check out Leapster's new radio show, All Over The Shop, today at 2:00 ESD.
Posted by Tony on Thursday, April 5, 2007 at 12:40 | Comments (7)
Category: Media (2)
THIN WHITE UKE
Raising the ... ahem ... tone; meet Tony Penultimate, the 6'8'' Peter Brooke Turner of the Ukulele Orchestra of Great Britain. Superb.
Via an easy listening Boynton and General Eclectic himself, Dante Fontana.
Posted by Tony on Wednesday, April 4, 2007 at 17:10 | Comments (5)
Category: Music (32)
