Category Archives: Crumb bums of the day

The simple game played by some even simpler people needs a special solution

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So playing in the State of Origin is on top of Tweets Dugan’s bucket list is it? Well, knock me over with a six-pack of stupidity.  Was that the same bucket Tweets and Blake the Shake Ferguson were chilling the champagne bottles in at the 2230 Bar while the Shake was seeking love in all the wrong places.  And look call me old school, but slugging down directly from bottle, a couple of gallons of Merde de la Vigne in a public place, when you have been given the honour of representing your state is a bloody disgrace. 

According to the Illawarra Mercury Blake Ferguson was congratulating Josh Dugan on his return to State of Origin via twitter nine minutes after Dr George Peponis announced the team.  Ferguson channeling twin influences of Shakespeare and Snoop Dog, tweeted; “Congrats to big joshy Dugan very happy for you bra 🙂 @Josh_Dugan #wereback,” By 6.30pm the former teammates were at Northies, the popular nightspot in Sydney’s south, and were happily posing for photographs. Shortly after 10pm, they had made their way to 2230 Restaurant and Bar, where they were seen drinking champagne straight from the bottle. What then happened will be for the courts to decide and despite Blake’s obviously excited mood he deserves not to be judged until all the facts are in.  

What can be judged is the level of stupidity these two serial clowns have demonstrated over the last six months.  Is it simply a case of young, dumb and full of rum or is it more?  Is it a case of ingrained arrogance in certain players that is fed by sycophantic player managers and clubs and recruiters who don’t want to lose the chance of snaring a fallen player or alienating a talented one?

Apart from Shake and Tweets wine tasting adventures in the last two weeks we have had Cowboy and Blues player, James Toot-Toot-Tamou, without a licence and gut full of grog driving pissed in Townsville followed by George Beagle Burgess tossing the caber in public. The 21-year-old George Beagle, one of four Beagle brothers has been charged with two counts of wilful damage after he allegedly threw a street sign through the rear window of a vehicle following post-match celebrations in the Cairns suburb of Redlynch early on Monday morning. A contrite Beagle barked; “I acknowledge that I am a role model for kids and I will do everything I can to restore my reputation through working harder in the community.” One has to ask – what community would want any of these dumb, useless clumps contaminating their space and what could they actually add to the community? Perhaps they could be melted down to make speed humps?

The sport was in crisis. It was obvious then that the movers and shakers in the NRL had to come up with a solution. Wait. Wheels are spinning, cogs are engaging, there is movement as the mighty intellect of the NRL dices and slices. Yes and the winner is! BODYGUARDS. Well I’ll be slowly poked in the eye with a corner post. Why didn’t we think of it? The way to stop this bad bevaviour is to give players their own bodyguard. But where do we stop and don’t security guys have a rather poor record in the restraint stakes?

Manly chief David Smarts Perry was not at the club the last time the Sea Eagles hired a bodyguard to protect the players in public but believes security measures should be considered. ”I think the NRL should look at all options,” he said. Well Smarts, I think in the light of the Manly fans alleged racial abuse of Bulldog’s players and one family member last week I think it is reasonable that you look at bodyguards for everyone attending Fortress Brookvale.

Bulldogs boss and future NRL head of football Todd Lettuce Greenberg was a voice of reason, as usual, when he said bodyguards were not the answer. ”No, I don’t think that really addresses the issue, to be honest,” he said. ”I think it’s personal accountability. I’ve done that with the Bulldogs over a number of years, and it’s about holding our players to a certain standard.” Sadly there appears to be no standards.

Phil Gus Gould believes that errant players are far too easily able to sign up to another club in the same year after lapses of madness. I agree with Gus. Ditch them. There are plenty of other players willing to play the game rather than playing up.

So I have a solution that allows for redemption but imposes standards. It’s called the Urine Solution and it sets clear standards of expected behaviour. When an NRL player gets on the piss and gets pissed or pisses in public, drives pissed, treats people piss poor, they themselves will be pissed off. They will be pissed off to far flung places on the planet where local rugby league teams will welcome them with open arms. They will play a season for teams like the Tumubarumba Greens, the Bidgee Bulls, the Moree Porkchoppers, the Guyra Supa Spuds or the Berry Magpies. They’ll be paid match payments only and will have to have a full-time job locally for a year. And then – only then if they can actually behave like a decent human being they will be accorded the privilege of returning to play in the NRL.

It’s a simple solution. It has to be.

Tommy the Teeth kick-starts legislation as Cash Conroy swallows merde muffin

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The photo of Julia Gillard flanked by a taciturn Stephen Conroy in the Sydney Morning Herald told it all. Gillard was announcing new proposed legislation to ban the spruiking of live odds during sports broadcasts, two years after it had promised to crack down on the controversial form of betting advertising.

In the photo Cash Conroy looked as if he’d just eaten a merde muffin and it was no surprise when he came out later and said that television was struggling and “cannot give up betting revenue”. In The Age article written by Heath Ashton, Conroy is quoted as saying that “Labor has cut more than $250 million from the cost of doing business for television networks since 2010 but the industry can’t afford to forgo the advertising dollar of betting companies”. This revenue is estimated at $40 million a year. Cash went on to say that life had become ‘‘harder and harder’’ for the commercial free-to-air stations despite the government’s decision to halve the licence fees for them and award two free digital channels each.

All this is rather amusing. A Senator, allegedly a Labor Senator goes into bat for an industry that’s dished up a decade of simple news stew that has been heavily flavoured with proprietor prejudice and limited facts. Why would Conroy give them a break? Stuff them. Let them slip into the new media pond and if they cannot swim then let them sink. Would we miss another Current Affair or Footy Show? Perhaps Cash drives a Ford?

No, Cash Conroy has bigger fish to fry. Cash is of the right – a conservative – a big picture fellow. These are the ones who have read a few economics books and think the market with a little twist can be trusted to self-regulate. He is a catholic and was born in England. Enough said. He obviously doesn’t think imagination is an important character trait either as to listen to Cash speak on media matters is like listening to an accountant explain Section 79A of the Taxation Act on loop.

What is the most amazing thing here is that it took a short, suited spiv with flashing gnashers to get some federal legislative action on gaming advertising.

What sort of flimsy cheese-hearted politicians are these. According to a poll in the SMH 94% of people say that the restrictions are welcome news but a whopping 62% say they do not go far enough. Why would Gillard and Conroy go part of the way – why would they not drop their strides and get stuck in? Already the Chubby Checker of state politics, Twister O’Farrell has played them off a break by saying it doesn’t go far enough. Twister is calling for a blanket ban on gambling advertising during live sports events, as well as a crackdown on online betting, saying Prime Minister Julia Gillard’s reforms are ”far too little”.

So at a time when we see the Waterhorse brand trashed and struggling we see another brand struggling too. The Labor brand has been so watered down that it is unrecognisable. Once a value driven brand it is now purely poll driven. Tommy Waterhorse has the Liberal/National Party at tomato sauce odds of $1.05 and Labor, drifting and unwanted at $8. Labor is “off” and you don’t need Blue Tongue’s mates to tell you. The unregulated markets have spoken and told us that they have about as much chance as a bubble through a mincer.

Rugby league – a simple game played by (some) even simpler twits

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It was great news for St George rugby league fans when Josh ‘Tweets’ Dugan signed for the injury scarred NRL team. Well that’s how it should read. But in most people’s minds, those who have an IQ above their age, there would be a lingering doubt about Tweets.

There is a sense that he actually still doesn’t understand the implications of responsible use of social media let alone know how to spell it. Some may remember that Tweets Dugan was put under immense pressure for not getting the accolades he so richly deserves and then by telling a fellow tweeter to “end it”. Dugan got involved in tweets at twenty paces after he posted a photo of himself and a friend with their shirts off on photo-sharing app Instagram. The conversation went badly like this;

“I’d hate to be ya nuffie, At least my dog doesn’t speak up like you ya loud mouth … who are ya by the way? I could never play another game of NRL and I’ve still accomplished more than you. Haha righto Marky Mark: go get another Raiders Tattoo then end yourself. Your mrs is hot too by the way haha you obviously don’t read the news more the fool you haha your a joke. All my tats put together are better than your one rubbish one plus your bad head. Should call you don bradman ya batting well above average with her. Send her my way ill show her the time of her life.”

When exposed by mainstream media and ending the possibility of a $2M deal with the Brisbane Broncos, Tweets blamed pressure.

“I know I coulda handled myself better but things have built up!”

It’s not so much that Tweets doesn’t appear sincere to resurrect his flagging career. He just doesn’t seems that bright. But compared to one of his fellow tweeter twits, Tariq Sims he is pure Genome Project. Tariq plays for the North Queensland Cowboys and his parents gave him an Arabic birth name that apparently means “evening caller” or “striker”. But that is not apparent from his Twitter account where his profile proclaims that he is;

“part time rapper. heapppsssss into fishing Chuck Norris wannabe tha vill”.

Now I’m not sure what Tariq is fishing for or what bait he is using but he has captured the imagination of 7,359 followers. But I don’t think he is employing even a tincture of imagination here as he seems pure polyester. Now I know the conventions of Twitter allow most to spell as if they were shortchanged by being given only a 12 letter alphabet but this character has single-handedly reconstructed the English language.

Tweets Duggan has told the media that during his suspension he spent time on a building site and found that actually having to work for a living made him realise what he had given up. What he had given up were those sunny afternoons sipping cruisers with Blake ‘Fergo’ Ferguson and becoming involved in inane tweetathons with inked lumpoonies who love to act like faux gangstas from LA but who actually come from small breadbins like Cooma or Gerringong.

St George hierarchy see no reason to stop Tweets from using social media responsibly. Their CEO, Peter Doust says “There will not be a ban at the club for Josh however, he will be required to adhere to the Club’s comprehensive social media and communications policies and be involved in ongoing education in this area, in particular. We recognise that social media is a contemporary method of communication that can be extremely positive for communication when used responsibly, particularly for athletes in communicating with their fans.”

Well it is or indeed it could be a great communications tool for the Striker Sims, Fergs, Tweets and the wonderfully named Sandor Earl. Sadly the only tools here are the athletes. A sample of recent tweets from these great communicators;

Blake Ferguson ‏@fergyferg2 9 Mar
@tariqsims @chicko9 @josh_dugan @sandorearl @williams_297 thanks my bra! Miss ya head lad even tho I see it on insta modeling up 24/7

Sandor Earl ‏@sandorearl 10 May
Me and the man himself getting our supplement fix at elitesuppscanberra elitesuppscanberra… http://instagram.com/p/ZIX6LTJkNr/

chicko segeyaro ‏@chicko9 20h
“The wolf on top the hill is never as hungry as the wolf climbing the hill..true but wen the wolf on top the hill is hungry the food there”

Tariq sims ‏@tariqsims 9 May
View from my windo!! Notttt baddddd pic.twitter.com/AlbbXlEcoB

What a rich field of thought and language these chaps traverse. Apart from assisting Australian school kids to slip further down the OECD educational rankings these clowns do not want to use social media to communicate with fans in a thoughtful way. All they seem to want to do is spell badly, show off their tats on Instagram and indulge in banal fart-like social squirts.

The majority of NRL players are good solid young blokes who bash and barge each weekend and end up with bad knees. We don’t really want them to communicate. We just want them to play league well. They shouldn’t use social media to continually prove that they are a few sandwiches short of a picnic. We need to stop them bringing the game into disrepute. My social media policy for these and other NRL lumps would be quite simple. It’s titled “Social Media for Clowns” and is deliberately quite simple.

“Every rugby league player has to pass a primary school ethics and a Year 6 spelling exam before they are allowed to have a Twitter account.”

Now that should sort the wheat from the chaff even though I know the resultant yield would make a very, very small loaf of bread.

It’s good news week and someone’s dropped a bomb somewhere contaminating the atmosphere and blackening the sky

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For those of you who aren’t familiar with the music of Hedgehoppers Anonymous the title of this blog will mean nothing and to most people the content will have a corresponding effect.

Hedgehoppers Anonymous were a British band of the swinging sixties and their big, well only hit was “It’s Good News Week” – a line of that song is referenced in the above heading. It was an apocalyptic tale of nuclear war set to a sixties beat with the catchy line “Someone dropped a bomb some where, contaminating the atmosphere”. The lads were from the local RAF at Wittering but after the one hit in 1965 the band broke up a year later. Singer Mick Tinsley had a great voice – somewhere between Gene Pitney and Eden Kane. Their star burned brightly for a transient moment then they were gone.

Well personality sports commentators are contaminating the air too but unfortunately unlike the Hedgehoppers these self-absorbed knobs are unlikely to fizz out of the frame any time soon. They are highly prized and respected parts of the media wheel and they do know how to self-grease that wheel.

The tragedy here is that some actually have the intelligence and knowledge to make a valuable contribution to the viewers’ understanding of the game. However some have abandoned the basics of the job and have become the flash Harrys – the white shoe brigade of sports journalism. They deserve our condemnation for what they have done to the job. The job in case you have forgotten in the mist of their self-lording sprays is to simply add something to the sports pictures that we have to watch on either Channel Nine or Fox. To add acute observations would be good and insightful analysis would also be greatly appreciated. But what drivel do these blowhards add – well lets just consider just two examples in the last week or so.

In the replay of the Sunday Rugby League match of the day (Saints versus the Tinks) on Channel Nine we are treated to eighty minutes of football with another forty minutes of ads or filler. You know the drill – ads from little Tommy Waterhorse followed by Joel Madden flogging KFC – the fatuous followed by the fattening. On that matter, how that tattooed log (Madden) got the Logie recently for Best New Talent (yes I know he’s got a Foundation but so has a toilet block) must appear in any new book of media miracles. If this purveyor of fatty food is the best new talent in this land we are seriously sausaged old chum and we should all turn off the halogens, get in a boat and leave for the promised land.

Look I do understand the concept of cross-promotion and advertising but I didn’t think that “serious” commentators like Phillip ‘Gus’ Gould would feel the need to contaminate their craft with endorsements of shit-awful dribble like The Noice even if the stupid old tool actually likes it. Phillip is a great insightful sports commentator even though he often repeats his Sunday comments in Fairfax on the Monday which might suggest he is either very busy or has Alzheimers. But there he was mid first half bantering on-air with Ray “Rabbits” Warren about the when and whats of The Noice. And of course on cue a banner ad for the same shit music show dribbled across the bottom of the screen. By the way I love ‘Rabbits’. He could call a cold. But somewhere along the way these sad, self-absorbed old blokes have lost it. They have allowed the marketing moles to undermine the integrity of the job they were put there to do.

So when the arm wrestle between the Tinks and Saints is revving up we have Gould and Warren dribbling like codgers on a park bench. That’s not what you are there for. It’s not the Sydney Theatre Company and it’s not Chekov. This is Rugby League. This is sweat and boils. This is bruise and barge. So if you cannot do us the basic courtesy of calling the game with experienced analysis you should get on the boat and leave it to someone who can.

So let’s look at just one of the new breed of commentators. Let’s start with Matty Johns and his new league show on Fox, ‘Monday Night’. Now this is a new talent worthy of a Logie. In what category? Well you be the judge.

Matty had an unsuccessful run on Channel 7 in 2010 with ‘The Matty Johns Show’ that was allegedly a “smut-free” version of the ‘Footy Show’. He has obviously learnt a lot since then.

I hadn’t been lucky enough to catch this new talents show until last Monday night. It follows Fox’s Monday evening match, so I normally turn the sound off so I don’t have to listen to “Brandy” Alexander whine for eighty minutes and then fall asleep. But for some strange reason I stayed up. The half-time on Fox’s Monday night league has been enhanced by the addition of celebrity sprinter, Matt ‘Sherve’ Shervington. Matt was the champion of something, possibly of the bleeding obvious over 30 seconds. He stands in front of a Don Lane special glass table at half-time and with Mark ‘Gaz’ Gasnier, the “fire-up” king of Origin. But his set-up statement to Brandy at half-time really became the bench mark for commentary.

“Brandy…arhhh the passing game from the Tigers…they’re….arhhh actually catching and passing…”. Gee, where do you go from there? So precise, so…arhhh insightful.

But I digress. The first thing we see of Matty is a pre-show cross towards the end of the footy. We see him wiping plates and allegedly asking Mr Murdoch how he’d like his eggs. See Matty is one of your wags. An irreverent knockabout lad in the mould of Hoges. Taking on the establishment. What Matty would have us believe is that he takes no instructions from bosses, after all he is a lad from the coal fields of Newcastle. But in reality Matty if Mr M asked you to wipe anything of his you probably would.

On a set that looked liked it was made from disused office Furniture Matty’s Monday Night crew consists of Gordon ‘Gordy’ Tallis, Nathan ‘Hiney’ Hindmarsh and guest Laurie ‘Lossa’ Daley.

So is it league we start with? No, Johns makes a reference to Hiney’s eyes suggesting he had been on the ganja. There are lot’s of giggles and Cheech and Chong references. It’s all jolly and matey. One couldn’t imagine that this is in the same week that clubs are under increased scrutiny about illegal supplements and the press is full of reports of calves blood and colons.

But it got better. Johns cuts to footage of a league photographer, called Col who is shown taking photos of teams coming out of the tunnel. Col’s mistake is to move between a couple of cheerleaders and squat on the ground to get his shot.

“Col I think it’s pretty illegal getting ‘pootie’ shots”. Lots of giggles followed by an “only joking Col”.

Of course it finally got on to league and the State of Origin with incumbent Blues coach Daley asked by Johns, “Where’s ya head at mate?”

So that’s our lot in League Land. Our game is full of jolly, chummy, matey blokes who think that what they have to say is more important than the game they are paid vast sums to commentate on and they are contaminating the atmosphere. What we need is a clean out. We need something to go off in the middle of this matey, blokey, self-centred world and when it does let us hope we have something to replace it that is close to intelligent commentary without the dribble.

Postscript: Yesterday the cross promotion reference on Sunday League was ‘The Big Bang Theory’ – Rabs reckons that Gus just loves it. Now doesn’t that make a good news week?

Well I’ll be beclouded if I am not a strategic purveyor of meaningless tosh

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There was a time when a truck carrying fruit was called a fruit truck. Now it is highly likely that a truck full of fruit and vegetables will have proudly emblazoned on its side “Herbaceous Plant Logistics”.

In simpler times a truck was a truck. This was a time when there were only a few careers available to you when you left school. If you were in one of the less academic classes of a comprehensive high school then there was a fair chance you’d be driving that fruit truck and if you were good at numbers but couldn’t dance you became an accountant. Simple.

So in these complex times there seems to be a requirement by many for an increased complexity in our language. We seem to crave words that heighten the importance of what we do and use words that make other people think we are important and therefore want us. Therefore every clown in town is either a Director, Executive Officer or Senior something and they are generally involved in something strategic or logistical.

The other day I went past a shop run by another eastern suburbs spiv that proclaimed he was purveyor of fine food. It made me smile. A purveyor – it almost sounded obscene and at the prices it was. I didn’t go inside because I knew I wouldn’t find any Black Cat Chocolate selection or Coon Cheese slices in the Purveyor’s pad.

It was on the same day that the very little man from News, Kimbo Williams used the term “chemical conversation” when Doogie Niven Cameron, trained fitter and machinist, ex-AMW secretary and now member of the Gillard graveyard shift had the temerity to question News about its lack of ethics. The carefully groomed Williams, who is increasingly beginning to look like one of the crew out of Dad’s Army, peered owlishly over his goggles and spat extremely smart words out at Cameron. That evening the bug-eyed MP Rob Oakeshott banged on about agnostic platforms in relation to the new media laws. I began to sweat. The room was swimming, I was bewildered and drowning in a tosh mire and the only way out was to turn everything off and sip from memories cup cheered on by the scarlet brew.

Don Watson’s wonderful site weaselwords is full of people’s attempts to inflate the importance of what they do or sell. Read the prose below from Watson’s site and try to imagine what they are talking about:

“The love for beautiful things, the knowledge of the functional and technical aspects of the product, the belief that domestic life is an individual space to conquer so that freedom of choice can truly nourish, in short, the determination to empower an authentic life style, unconditioned and untainted by consumerism, is the mission and goal.”

I was thinking a sex toy here – perhaps a Steely Dan. But no it’s the product description on the box containing three cheese knives.

Titles across the corporate world preen the egos of suited charlatans and generally have no connection with what they actually do. Why do we need senior strategic toads to orchestrate front-end schemas or deploy innovative content? I’d suggest it is because some of us feel the need to deliver a complex response to an increasingly challenging and complex work environment.

There is an increasing need to obfuscate (see it’s happening to me)? In Nerdland obfusciation or “beclouding” is used to refer to the practice of hiding the intended meaning and often the reason is a need to make code unable to be compromised. But in IT it has a reason to exist. Elsewhere it is simply the chosen language of misleading scoundrels.

Obviously sport is not immune from the habit of gilding the lily. The highly successful rugby league club, Melbourne Storm would have us believe that their Storm Advantage Payment “is not a membership package but a payment plan to make life simple”. Such is their concern for the fiscal prudence of their fans that they want to help them “manage their cash flow”. That appears to be a flow from the fans’ pockets into the fat News coffers particularly if you go for the payment plan for a “Sup-paw-tor” membership for your pet at just $35 a year.

In gaming the Punter’s Pal, little Tommy Waterhouse is trying to recruit a ‘high impact editorial manager’ who will be charged with ‘leveraging’ more media opportunities. In my day a high impact manager was a bloke who belted you for not doing your job.

Cricket Australia loves a good title too and in November 2011 appointed Pat Howard as General Manager, Team Performance. A fabulous yet curious title given that I thought the coach and selectors were responsible for team performance with simple performance criteria such as if you don’t get enough runs or wickets you’re gone. But no, they obviously need a bloke with a special title who owns a string of chemist shops to tell them or a press conference when a bloke is on the nose. It’s really even stranger when you find that Pat the Chemist was the General Manager of the High Performance Unit at the ARU – where his clowning achievement was “recruiting the current Wallabies management”. Now doesn’t that decision smack of high performance?

So where are we now? Well we are in a mess. What most say is not what they do or mean. We need to return to a time of plain English – a time of fruit trucks and bosses. But most of all we need to banish the turd bronzers.

Too much caviar and too much of a good thing – just who is the horses arse here?

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There was something not quite right last Friday night when one of the female part-owners led in the mighty Black Caviar at Money Valley. The fact the woman looked about as comfortable as an Obeid in an ICAC hearing and looked as stupid as made me wonder. Is it about the horse?

I know owners stump up great amounts of cash to dream of the ‘one’. I know that when a two y.o has its first start at Armidale or Echuca there are a lot of blokes in tight-fitting jackets who haven’t slept the night before. They have been on the phone to their mates spreading the word that the trainer “thinks we might just have something special here”. Inevitably they go to bar early and disappointed with homilies of ‘that’s racing’ or ‘needs more distance’. Sadly greater distance will not bring greater objectivity to the owner’s assessment of the horses performance.

Black Caviar, a big filly by Bel Esprit was purchased by Peter Moody at the Melbourne sales for $210,000. So this was not a conveyance by Drongo out of Pear Shape. It was one that could only be purchased with a fair bit of Harry Nash. So along came Neil Werrett and his substantial band of very merry men and women and good luck to them for making a large investment in the four-legged lottery. Werrett wasn’t a new chum here either he’d had a few nags with Moods before.

On 19 April 2009 16-year-old apprentice Jarrad Noske rode Caviar to a commanding first win in a 2 yo Handicap at Flemington and then to a further win next start. But for whatever reason Noske was brushed and Happy Hands Luke Nolan took over. I’m not sure what happened but I wonder whether the owners and trainer of Miracles of Life went through the same assessment process when they stuck with the unfashionable Lauren Stojakovic as hoop in the Blue Diamond at Caulfield? I’d like to think Jarrad was suspended or injured at the time. But that’s fine – senior jockey and all that – an owner’s prerogative. You pay the loot you can boot.

But I’ve put that to rest now only to wake up this morning to find in the Daily Dread that the Cav Crew now want free tickets with trimmings at the building site at Randwick for the Cranky Smith Stakes. Neil’s been busy because the hord has grown substantially and he wants 220 free tickets and enough champagne to fill Warragamba. It’s a bit sad really because reading between the lines the Cav Crew are obviously down to their last penny if they need to stitch up the ATC. Just shows what a GFC can do to smart money doesn’t it?.

So if the Cav Crew do have the arse out of their trousers and culottes then they can certainly put on a brave face. They seemed to be just fine on Friday night as they talked up top hats and morning suits at Ascot again and wanting to chat with Moods about another overseas jaunt. Apparently Neil Werrett was in fine spirits too at a private function on the night as he put mustard on the Sydney/Melbourne debate by saying that Sydneysiders just didn’t appreciate Black Caviar.

Well Cav Crew – we’d love to be able to appreciate Black Caviar but you are taking close to 1% of the bloody tickets. The building site at Randwick isn’t at full capacity yet and you are not helping. Your marquee is also taking up space that would be more usefully occupied by a pluto pup stand or a tarot card reader (Don’t sneer Neilo, we all need help in the last!)

But it’s probably the talk of another trip to Ascot that gets on my goat the most. I can forgive greed as I love to get to the bottom of a terrific trough myself. I would like to think it was too much of the rum rumble on Friday night that led to the Cav Crew talking up a second tilt at Ascot. One only had to see the poor mare in the Ascot parade ring last time to see that she wasn’t happy. Who would be? Anyone would resent being leered at by a bunch of chinless toffs dressed up like undertakers. She busted her gut to win despite Happy Hands and she deserves not be put through the draining rubber suit experience again.

There is an old racecourse adage that says nothing improves a horse’s performance like ownership but that owning a horse doesn’t necessarily improve an owner. Let’s hope for Black Caviar’s sake there is improvement in both.

Umpire can I have a review of that decision?

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I’m standing here in the middle of the night with a kerosene lamp showing a shadowy light on the outskirts of Chandigarh. I’m trying to hit a golf ball up against a tank with a stump waiting for the call that I know will never come. It’s a call from Poodle Clarke assuring me that nothing is wrong in camp. It’s a call that says we acted fairly. We had our backs against the wall. These guys are really bad characters who knock on doors at night and run away to snort Stilnox. We are better off without these guys. Trust me.

But I can’t. There are things swirling around my head. These are questions that remain unanswered. So Dear Poodle if you have time between marking essays with Disney Arthur can you just answer these few simple questions.

1. Was there a team bus trip recently in Mohali that you weren’t on?

2. While the rest of the team were on that trip were you off sightseeing at the Taj Mahal you lucky bugger? I ask this because I thought it was almost traditional for touring teams to have a team photo taken at the Taj.

3. Have there been other players on this trip who have not done the required work but have escaped punishment?

4. Was there a clear, unequivocal deadline that all players were aware of for the handing in of their “plans”?

5. Do you think that Mickey Arthur is worth $400K a year?

6. If in fact there has been issues from the beginning of this tour why weren’t they dealt with at an earlier time?

7. Do you believe that Usman Khawaja fits in with the defined team “culture”?

8. Has any current squad player been told that they do not fit into the team “culture”?

9. How would you define the Australian Cricket Team “culture”?

10. Do you as captain believe that captains should never show favouritism to players?

11. Do you think loyalty should be rewarded?

12. Have there been any reportable incidents with players within the Australian squad recently that have not been dealt with properly – that is swept under the covers?

13. Do you think you have made any errors of judgement in terms of your captaincy over the last twelve months – if so what are they?

Thanks Poodle – I know that there are more questions here than you have players but I also know with you and Disney running the show the Third Test is in the bag.

PS: Is there a shortage of razor blades in India? I noted that you appeared on my television the other night somewhat unshaven. I thought there must be a very good reason for this because I am sure that the incedible High Performance Manager and chemist Pat Howard would not like the captain looking like someone who disrespects the team and its culture.

Pessimists never get disappointed – a sporting wish list for 2013

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I’m really struggling to put down a sporting wish list for this year.

I want to approach the task with all the fervour of a young tagged kid with too much Red Bull coursing through his unclogged arteries. But it is hard to do this because with as many years on the clock as my IQ the arteries are clogged, the brain is “doonered”and to be honest I have been incredibly disappointed in recent years with not one wish getting up or even going close. My gut instinct is to settle for less.

Seneca the Younger, the Roman philosopher had a good grip on disappointment – he basically put it all on the plate when he asked us to consider why we continue to get disappointed by the expected bad behaviour of all the low dicks around us? Seneca Jnr was saying that pessimists never get disappointed. But bugger the Romans they are rubbish at most sports except those that involve hair dye and high heels.  So here it is.

My overarching wish is to see fashion eradicated from all sport

Appearance over performance is on the rise not only on the paddock but in the press.  Fairfax Media had two stories about rugby league players suits in a month.  This twaddle took the column inches from serious analysis of the game.

So where do we start?  Well I’d start like this.  If a character turns up with some fancy shear work on their dome expecting to run on for their country they’d be yanked.  If they want to get their ends tinted then that can be done in the privacy of their own home but it has no place on the paddock of pride.  The offender would be given two options – a sensible haircut done by a barber seconded to the national team or simply told to bugger off.

If a sportsperson gets a tat and wants to play for or represent their country that’s fine as long as we don’t have to see their stupidity on display.  I’m talking long sleeve shirts and pants here if necessary and if they have one of those neck tats with stupid, scribbly writing with words like “Forever” or “Bethany” – I’m thinking a very tight-fitting cravat.  Now the extra gear could be a problem for swimmers but kiddies would only have to see someone sinking to the bottom of the pool in the 1500m freestyle at the Rings to get the message loud and clear.

Wallabies clean sweep against New Zealand in the 2013 Bledisloe Cup

In Rugby Union – the game my old claret partner Tom calls,”stacks on the mill”, I just want to see the Wallabies win the bloody Bledisloe Cup.

That cannot be such a big ask given we spend more money indirectly propping up this game via our tax dollars to the rugby breeding grounds of places like St Kevins of the Bleeding Noses than we do on aircraft carriers. For this sort of investment I don’t want to see further second half capitulation that has become the signature tune of some of the haircuts and inked billboards that run around these days in the gold.

I want to return to the days of hard slightly unfit characters desperately grunting hanging on with blood, mud and spittle on their chins.  I know the milk industry has been rubbished by deregulation and Woolworths and the bush is being ripped up by Big Gina so pickings are slim but we need more dairy farmers and cockies on the park. We need blokes who know what drought is rather than these show ponies who sook it if a trainer doesn’t run on to give them a drink and well-done on the arse.

We need blokes with big ears and bad haircuts that only think about one thing.  In October this year, after winning the first two they live or die for the pleasure of grinding those mongrels in black jerseys so far into the mud of the Forsyth Barr Stadium in Duneedin that a fleet of back-hoe drivers are required after the match.

An Australian bred horse that cost peanuts wins the 2013 Melbourne Cup

I don’t want it trained by Gai Waterhouse but by a trainer who cut their teeth at places like Northam, Seymour, Mudgee or Scone.  That someone would have to be a person who pays their staff and strappers a fair wage and who works around the stables not sits on their freckle at three-hatted restaurant tables.

I don’t want it to be owned by Blue Tongue Singleton or the Parrot. It should be owned by many including a butcher, a baker and the chap who broke it in.  I don’t want a Sheik Yo Money, I want a Sheik from Scrubby Creek with teeth like tomb stones, a ruddy face and story to tell.  I also want it ridden by a smiling young woman who looks silly in a frock and a hunger to do the right thing by the owners not a fist-pumping rock jock who has deep pockets and shallow thoughts.

I want certain player managers to attend ethics classes

This is a big ask.  The NRL Code of Ethics for player agents is a simple one page, eight point addendum to the Accredited Player Agent Scheme Rules document.  I can understand why one would want to keep the document simple.  A lot of these people trail off half-way through 160 character tweet.

The player agents in all sports are often the mentors, business managers and social conductors for these young players – some who are a long way from home and family influence.  In recent times some of these player agents have been missing in action in most regards of their duty of care.  Some are simply incapable of assisting their charges in navigating the complex social/work maze that young sportspeople have to traverse daily.

Some of the ethics course workshops could include;

  • What’s yours is mine : Business Ethics
  • You buy one – I get one for free : Financial Planning
  • Tats, tequila and trifectas : Social Skills and Responsibility

I want the Swans “No dickhead rule” to be mandatory for all sporting clubs

Now this will have a devastating impact on most codes and clubs.  For awhile there will be more sporting positions vacant notices than fatties at a fry-off.

There will be pain.  No Friday night games, there will be forfeits, coachless clubs, boards without directors, two-man front rows, foot-long grass and chubby blokes coming from fourth grade to bat for Australia.  But take solace – there will be no dickheads.  That is no blowhards, no big heads, no loons, no lard farmers or flash moles.  There will just be good sports.

 

Why I don’t particularly like Cam Smith

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Look this is not a strong dislike compared to the ones I have for blokes who hang their jeans off their freckles or people who only indicate they are turning right after the lights change or pimply suited knobs who talk on their mobiles as if every one within a kilometre wants to know that they had a “massif blow out…eh man”.  No it’s not that strong.  It’s really just like a mild form of skin irritation that you scratch but it never quite goes away – that’s the relationship I have with Cameron Smith.  It’s also annoying because he is a very good player but he just doesn’t sit right with me. So that you can understand my reluctance to embrace this former Logan Brothers boy I’ll list just a few of the reasons why I don’t like the cut of Cam’s jaunty jib.

Reason No 1 : He captains a team that cheated

Way back when the Storm were found to be rorting the salary cap the Telegraph reported that allegedly “Melbourne Storm officials secretly paid skipper Cameron Smith $60,000 to renovate his home as part of a deal outside of his NRL contract.”  Possibly it went like this, if in fact it was true, one Monday morning early a truck load of bricks and sand were dumped in his front yard, then a bunch of blokes arrived in overalls.  Smith questioned them and said, “Hey what are you fellas doing here?”. They replied “We are here to do your extension Cam”. Smith replied, “Oh, all right that’s cool.”

Despite some players getting boats, cars and Harvey Norman vouchers some just simply didn’t realise it was illegal and why would they?  They are simply just football players who just want to get out on the park fuelled on bit of calves blood and have fun.

Reason No 2 : Some say Smith doesn’t play fair

In an article after State of Origin III in 2012, Dean Ritchie titled, Queensland captain Cameron Smith reveals his darker side during Origin III.  Ritchie details some of Smith’s alleged indiscretions.

“A star who stands for everything good in the game. But here is the proof Queensland skipper Cam Smith has a dark side that NSW discovered on Wednesday night at Suncorp Stadium. The Daily Telegraph has unearthed eight separate incidents during State of Origin III that could have resulted in Smith being penalised, sin-binned or even being placed on report. He avoided detection. There was a grapple, headlock, knee, arm twist and neck grab.”

Let’s not beat around the bush here.  He captains a team that would have golded in wrestling at the first Olympics.  In fact some Storm players are so intense in their tackling technique that some Storm wives have sought counselling citing that their husbands spend more time lying on top of opposition players than them.

Reason 3 : It’s all about Cam and his petty parochialism

It appears Cam is not aware or concerned that Australia is made up of a number of states and territories, only one of which happens to be Queensland.

After the Kangaroo Test late last year the Telegraph wrote that “The Kangaroos skipper had been forced to interrupt his end-of-season to clear the air with Paul Gallen over the controversy surrounding the chanting of the Queensland victory song after Australia’s recent Test win.”  The article went onto say that “even cricket great Steve Waugh and former Wallaby hardman Simon Poidevin called for the Queenslanders to make a public apology but it appears there is little chance of that ever happening.”

Reason 4 : It’s all about Cam and the elite players not the game

In recent times Cameron Smith has come out and said that there are too many games and that elite players are getting jaded and burnt out.  He is not enamoured with a second NZ team either.  Cam thinks he has the fans’ interests at heart and perhaps he has. He is quoted in the SMH as saying:

”What the fans want, they want to see the elite players in the game for as long as they can. Do you want Greg Inglis to play five or six years and be burnt out?  Or do we want to give him an opportunity to be in our game for 10 years?”

Well Cam, I really do not care how long you and Cordial Inglis stay in the game because surprise, surprise there are always talented young players to replace you who are rearing to have a house let alone have their houses renovated for them. You played 30 games last year, you poor overtaxed bugger – give us a break.  Big Mal Meninga played 37 in 1990 on one leg and a crook arm you big sook!

Reason 5 : I suspect he wanted to be called “Cam”

I’m not sure whether this is part urban myth or part old-timers disease on my part but I thought there was a time when Cameron Smith, the rugby league player, had his manager inform media outlets that his player wanted to be known as “Cam”.  Surely not – but perhaps someone else knows the story.  If it is true that like the attention span of a teenager Cam wanted it short and ‘tweet to contemporise his image then I don’t need all the other reasons I have listed above.

Young, dumb and too full of rum – our State of Drunkenness?

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Police groups, crime statisticians and a few intelligent politicians rightly say we need to clean up this whole drunken mess that’s turning our streets into war zones.  We have had successful trials in Newcastle, Grafton and Wagga Wagga that have dramatically reduced the alcohol-related crime and violence.  But what have O’Farrell and the previous Labor numbskulls done?

They have done nothing.  They continue to sit on their flaccid fat arses influenced by gold-chained lobbyists while the over-drunk create fountains of vomit and blood in our streets.

Let’s make it perfectly clear, I have been known to throw golden throat charmers down my gullet as if Prohibition was coming at midnight so I do not speak from the moral high ground of a casual restrained drinker.  Sadly I have also witnessed and recoiled in places of drinking from the sickening dull thud as alcohol fuelled fists thump into the marrow and bone of a lesser combatant.

In a week where the disturbing Four Corners program, Punch Drunk highlighted the incredible personal tragedy and social cost of drunkenness we are yet to hear from the Australian Hotel Association (AHA).   This defender of watering holes and shady taverns has both state and federal governments recoiling in fear anytime someone decides to embark on some responsible legislative agenda to regulate the alcohol and gaming industry.

In a wonderfully detailed story over a year ago in the Sunday Telegraph, journalist, Jane Hansen detailed the intense lobbying and hectoring influence the AHA has had over past and present governments.  The AHA dismissed it as a “sensationalised piece”. Hansen details the plus $800,000 in 2008 and $500,000 plus in late 2010 that the group paid to political parties.  Hansen goes onto detail the links between the AHA and the State Liberal Party.

”Less than a year after the O’Farrell government was elected, the AHA has already locked on. At least two Liberal Party executives are on the AHA payroll including the AHA NSW Branch’s newly-appointed Chief Executive, Paul Nicolaou and former state Liberal Minister, Michael Photios.”

It is also interesting to examine the two-way trough between AHA and other groups apart from ex-politicians who seem to be doing very nicely in the apocalyptic swill.  British American Tobacco, Tabcorp and Pokie manufacturers tip into the AHA till year after year. Concerned about the unbridled influence of industry groups beating an easy path to government ICAC published a November 2010 report, Investigation into Corruption Risks involved in Lobbying. It stated;

“That lobbying attracts widespread community perceptions of corruption, and involves a number of corruption risks. A lack of transparency in the current lobbying regulatory system in NSW is a major corruption risk, and contributes significantly to public distrust.”

Well aren’t ICAC a funny lot.  They worry over the slightest issue.  For example I think we didn’t need to worry when at a AHA fundraiser in March 2009 the bloke who then ran Scruffy Murphy’s (Sydney) allegedly paid $70K for a dinner with O’Farrell.  That was alright, Barry’s a straight shooter (oh dear that’s another problem isn’t it?).

But no one is willing to step out of line against the AHA.  Everyone except the Greens seems to be gutless in this state.

If you are not convinced about our “State of drunkenness” just head down to the Quay end of George Street, near where Hammer Hemmes has built his grog shacks, late on any Friday or Saturday night.  You’ll see the result of twenty plus years of industry influence and the resultant gutlessness inaction of a series of lard-arsed, unprincipled politicians.