Weekend Wrap
Ahhh this explains everything. The Aryan looks, fierce competitive streak, insatiable sexual appetite, even the taking of banned substances. Just not the portly figure.
Yes, Shane Warne is German. Or at least it appears he wants to be. Thanks to the birth place of his mother, the man who would probably sell his mother for thirty pieces of silver is looking at getting a German passport so he can play as a "local" in English county cricket. Of course, this has not gone down too well with our friends across the ditch. Prime Minister John Howard is "amazed" that he would consider such a course of action, "and so would a lot of Australians"
Listen, Digger John. You've helped create the monster that is Australian sport where winning is everything and you bend the rules at every opportunity to create an advantage. The correct Australian reaction should be "Fuck off Shane, you've retired from playing for us - become a German, Namibian, Argentinian or Moldavian - we don't care". That I could understand.
Anyway, back to the weekend. Thanks to the NZ Herald putting up a countdown clock for the Rugby World Cup I'm aware it's less than 20 sleeps to go. So I made the effort to watch the warm-up games over the weekend (and did last weekend as well) to see if I should continue holding my breath for our beloved AB's.
Not really. The Northern Hemisphere sides are waking up from their summer slumber looking surprisingly lethargic (and in Wales' case, at times clueless) and I'm struggling to come up with a viable alternative to the ABs winning Billy. If it wasn't for our previous record at RWC we'd be Australian-like confident. So I guess we should give the other sides a few weeks longer to show their wares before casting the prediction in concrete.
However, what has been occupying my mind more than the forthcoming RWC and NZ tennis player Adam Thompson's loss in the semi-finals of a Tier 3 tournament in Peru (thanks again NZ Herald - I lost my cornflakes again), is the playing of netball on concrete.
In case anyone hasn't noticed, it rains a lot here in NZ during winter. And concrete netball courts get a tad slippery. So put 10 y.o. females who haven't fully developed their co-ordination onto them and it's like a stalled car on train tracks with a big light approaching. I saw more crying on Saturday than during a season of English Premier League.
I don't know what the alternative is - but young girls taking a tumble on concrete more akin to a skating rink can't be all that enjoyable - and when you add in the parents standing in the pissing rain getting chillblains, smiling through gritted teeth - yep, there has to be another way. Or am I getting soft in my old age?
Yes, Shane Warne is German. Or at least it appears he wants to be. Thanks to the birth place of his mother, the man who would probably sell his mother for thirty pieces of silver is looking at getting a German passport so he can play as a "local" in English county cricket. Of course, this has not gone down too well with our friends across the ditch. Prime Minister John Howard is "amazed" that he would consider such a course of action, "and so would a lot of Australians"
Listen, Digger John. You've helped create the monster that is Australian sport where winning is everything and you bend the rules at every opportunity to create an advantage. The correct Australian reaction should be "Fuck off Shane, you've retired from playing for us - become a German, Namibian, Argentinian or Moldavian - we don't care". That I could understand.
Anyway, back to the weekend. Thanks to the NZ Herald putting up a countdown clock for the Rugby World Cup I'm aware it's less than 20 sleeps to go. So I made the effort to watch the warm-up games over the weekend (and did last weekend as well) to see if I should continue holding my breath for our beloved AB's.
Not really. The Northern Hemisphere sides are waking up from their summer slumber looking surprisingly lethargic (and in Wales' case, at times clueless) and I'm struggling to come up with a viable alternative to the ABs winning Billy. If it wasn't for our previous record at RWC we'd be Australian-like confident. So I guess we should give the other sides a few weeks longer to show their wares before casting the prediction in concrete.
However, what has been occupying my mind more than the forthcoming RWC and NZ tennis player Adam Thompson's loss in the semi-finals of a Tier 3 tournament in Peru (thanks again NZ Herald - I lost my cornflakes again), is the playing of netball on concrete.
In case anyone hasn't noticed, it rains a lot here in NZ during winter. And concrete netball courts get a tad slippery. So put 10 y.o. females who haven't fully developed their co-ordination onto them and it's like a stalled car on train tracks with a big light approaching. I saw more crying on Saturday than during a season of English Premier League.
I don't know what the alternative is - but young girls taking a tumble on concrete more akin to a skating rink can't be all that enjoyable - and when you add in the parents standing in the pissing rain getting chillblains, smiling through gritted teeth - yep, there has to be another way. Or am I getting soft in my old age?
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posted by Rob Crawford at 10:15 AM
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