When in Rome

Hello possums! Last weekend I went on an expedition to foreign climes, namely a hop across the ditch to Melbourne to watch a friend of mine get married. (And it did happen -- matrimony was definitely the winner on the day! I wish a long and happy life to Glasshopper and his new wife K.)

I love Melbourne and I'm rather fond of Australia, as it happens, on the grounds that it's just like New Zealand except for when it's really, really not.

One of the things I really love about Melbourne is that nobody follows rugby there -- everybody's into Australian Rules Football, aka "rules" or "footy".

How much are Melbournians into their footy? The first time I visited, I found myself with a bit of free time and had a look through a local paper. The page headed "Religion" held... the footy results.

Last Friday night I found myself in my hotel room with very little inclination to go out, and that Melbournian phenomenon, Friday Night Footy, on the TV. Collingwood vs Essendon, one of the great grudge matches between two famous teams. (Hell, even I've heard of them, and I'm a New Zealander.)

So I watched the game.

All of it.

All two hours of it.

Why, you ask?

Well, there are 22 reasons per team, each in superb physical shape, wearing singlet tops and tiny shorts. And doing a lot of running and jumping and kicking. Seriously, what's not to like.

And it's different enough from rugby that I was riveted for the whole time, trying to work out how the game play went. No, really. I watched for the game play. As well.

Interestingly, every single Australian I talked to about it said "That was a crap game!" I don't know enough about how the game works to know whether it was crap or not. It was entertaining, and I'd like to see more of it.

And not just for the singlet tops and tiny shorts.

Honest.

Fiji, Baby!

Yes, okay, we lost.

But having never been to Hamiltron, City of the Future, before, I am finding it to be pleasant, warm and the stadium to be entirely awsome in a way that is reminicent of Athletic Park.

The game rocked too. All of it was exciting, but I knew when that fog rolled in that we would come off second best (Christchurch, anyone?) Those 'Canes need to learn to play under pressure, and not drop the ball all the damn time. Perhaps it was because they shaved. We, the public, are glad they shaved, however. I was also very impressed with the refereeing, and just... it was oarsome. The whole thing. Except the losing.

Then there was drinking. And now I am in a state that is not hung over, just merely over.

And now Im going to yell at the Crusaders tonight, because, well... We cant have a final in Saffrica, can we?

Enter... Cricket. The hit-and-giggle World Cup is coming up (I know because Iain O'Brien said so in his blog) And I would like to take a vote on whether it actually really matters. I vote no, because our uniforms are so silly.

Annnnnnd Because it's tangentially related to Twenty20 cricket (he does play it after all) here's Aiden Blizzard.

See, if he had been in that calendar, I woulda bought it.

Oh my

Go and read this weeks's Field Theory blog entry over at Public Address.

No more need be said, really, does it?

Make love, not war.

I was gong to write something about the imminent civil war in my house, given Federer is playing Nadal in the final...

Then I saw this

I didn't know they molested each other in tennis! Excellent!

Two Letters

Dear Jesse Ryder,

This is a serious letter as your drinking is obviously a serious matter.

You are talented.  Really talented.  But you need to address one fact.

You have a drinking problem.

The fact you can't have just one indicates you may be an alcoholic.

They say you're on your last chance.  I say that chance should be on the condition you show up to AA and take that first step.

Yours, the Kiwi public who just want to see you play.

Dear Martin Guptill,

The Cheap Seats are now officially starting you a fan club.  You utterly rule.

Love, 

Us

(PS, comment to join the Martin Guptill Fan Club)

[Posted on behalf of The Brat, who is locked in a tin shed with nothing but a stack of paper for company]

Fly-by updates

Notes on the game at the Cake Tin.

- See. Bowl first. Really, really bowl first.

- Who knew we could bowl like that? Really?

- A tip in the tradition of Pulp Sport, spirits can be gotten into grounds inside those big bottles of gum. Just take the gum out first, thicko. This will also leave you chewing gum for the next week.

- I had some pics, but they all turned out to be of Tim Southee. Sorry about that. And they get worse the more gin I drink.

- What were the young women draping themselves over Flynnyflynnflynn at 3am on and where can I get some?

- And finally seeing some live, international cricket? PRICELESS

Updates will continue to be sporadic as continue to work 11 hour days. Hopefully Madame can keep things ticking along. And keep an eye out for some guest entries!

Posted on behalf of the Brat

Dear Daniel Flynn,

You are not supposed to be attractive. That I find you so is weirding me out. Please cease immediately.

The Brat

I've just had a horrible idea

Following on from the Nightwatchgirl's lament that England could not come up with a naked cricket calender, due to having a team full of fugly players, I thought about the idea of having The Black Caps get their kit off and pose for the camera.

Cue the mental floss.

Aaron Redmond, cute but bald.
Iain O'Brien, best described as having a face akin to a Hitler weasel.
Chris Martin (though I think he's gorgeous) looking like gristle held together with packing twine.
Jesse Ryder... I'm sorry I can't keep a straight face when I picture him pouting for the camera.

Sure, Danny and Baz would definitely look nice in the buff, but by then you would likely have dug out your own eyes with a spoon.

So while our new uniforms may be hideous, at least we should be grateful that they are wearing them.

The All Blacks, on the other hand, should never put their clothes on. It would raise the aesthetic levels of the general environment to have Richard Kahui's muscular backside on display 24/7.

...

I'm sorry, I went to a very happy place there. Ahem.

In actual cricket news, the State Championship has started!

Bloody Auckland beat Canterbury last week, and they're on their way to beating Sexual this week. CD are 191/6.

In Wellington we welcomed the new cricket season by having a massive fucking storm, but Wellington and Canterbury managed to get out onto the Basin and Wellington are 155/2.

And Otago are doing what they do best, which is playing poorly. Northern are now 223/7.

Sadly my need for gainful employment is truncating my ability to watch cricket this summer. Someone should pay me to blog. (that sounds so dirty.)

Further Insight...

I was going to say something really funny and clever about England losing a warm up game.

Then I saw this. And all words went out of my head.

Okay, so he's not quite Mitchell Johnson, but there's less photoshop and spray tan involved in this pic.

I need something to blog about before this becomes just a spankier version of my case files...

Insight...

I was going to say something coherant and insightful about India beating Australia...

Then I saw this. And now I think I need some time alone.



Ahem. So, yes... Carry on...