All those Kiwi women who have complained about a “man drought” over the last couple of years will soon have their prayers answered. Ladies, I offer you the Rugby World Cup.
Yes, that’s right. New Zealand is about to be inundated by that most attractive of the male sub species – the Rugbyhead – as if the country isn’t already over-populated with them.
And maybe that’s the truth about this so-called drought – it never actually existed at all, just another convenient excuse for our fickle womenfolk to explain their failure to find the perfect male.
But word on the street is that many of these single women have deliberately taken themselves off the market in recent months to save themselves for RWC.
If nothing else, at least that’s eliminated those who aren’t really serious about romance, the ones just looking for an opportunistic fling they can tell their girlfriends about over coffee long after they’ve become Remuera trophy wives.
Presumably, they have their sights set on some swarthy Argentine first-five in tight shorts, but unfortunately for them, it’s more likely to be a drunken lieutenant in the Barmy Army, egged on by his equally pissed cohorts.
The road to perfection is potholed with compromise.
It does happen, I suppose. Once, during a cozy rendezvous at the Heritage, my date informed me that she had spent quite a few nights at this establishment when the Italian sailors used it as their America’s Cup headquarters.
That was a pretty difficult image to dismiss for the rest of the night. Sigh!
And athletes are obviously quick to exploit such situations. Players at the Wellington Sevens are usually issued small replica footballs to toss into the crowd during the annual street parade.
Many have phone numbers written on them and are aimed at potential hook-ups among the bystanders.
Any time you put fit, young adults together in one place, hormones will inevitably intervene. Sydney Olympic organizers were said to have distributed 70,000 condoms to visiting athletes, but were still 20,000 short.
I wonder how they calculated that statistic. Maybe they had team liaisons rushing down to the nearest after-hours pharmacy each night, desperately trying to cover the shortfall and keeping count.
So, alas, last week’s short-lived “abstain for the team” campaign by Telecom was doomed to fail. Even as a tongue-in-cheek prank, it defied any passing semblance to reality.
The call would have made far more sense coming from a religious group lobbying against pre-marital relations or pitched as a war against sexually transmitted diseases (and maybe Telecom can still flick off their discounted IP and collateral to recoup some costs).
They could even have gone in the opposite direction with a variation on the old “better phone your daddy and tell him you won’t be coming home tonight” line.
See, who needs Saatchi & Saatchi anyway? This is too easy!
But, no, they didn’t.
The campaign did spark a debate among some of us about whether players themselves would be abstaining during the tournament and if this was, in fact, likely to improve or detract from their performance on the field.
Legend has it that American long jumper Bob Beamon feared the worst when he engaged in sex the night before his 1968 Mexico City Olympic final, then went out and added more than a foot (30cm) to the world record. That mark would last nearly quarter of a century.
I think you should just go with whatever you’re used to. Some guys hit the sack early the night before a big game and nod straight off to sleep, while others need a couple of beers to settle the nerves.
For some reason, our conversation turned to whether Ma’a Nonu (and I have no idea why we picked him as an example) should be allowed to have sex with 10 women on the eve of the World Cup final. My view – if that’s how Nonu prepares best, the manager should be out scouring the Viaduct bars for potential matchwinners.
That way, some lucky lasses won’t have saved themselves for nothing AND they get to take one in service of their country.
In the meantime, if you’re a sweet, sensitive Kiwi fella just looking for love, you’d better enjoy the on-field action and hope the All Blacks win, because that could be the only consolation you get from the next couple of months. You’ll be far outnumbered by the invading hordes with their sexy accents and simply won’t get a look-in.
I suppose, if you’re really desperate, you could always start swilling Guinness and learn the words to “Swing Low, Sweet Chariot”.
No, nothing’s worth that.
Wednesday, 24 August 2011
Saturday, 20 August 2011
TOO MUCH OF A GOOD THING?
It’s only 1.30pm Saturday, but I’m already late for my date with an ITM Cup quadruple play. Canterbury is playing ... someone I can’t remember.
This national provincial championship season has been a bit like that with games stacked on top of one another across all days of the week except (a little ironically) Monday.
Of course, a couple of other codes have made Monday night football a feature of their brand, so maybe NOT playing then has become a bizarre point of difference for rugby.
Those old skool types who have advocated a return to afternoon rugby have gotten their wish to the extent it’s almost morning rugby. This Canterbury v Taranaki (as it turns out) encounter started at 12.35pm.
I’ve got a valid excuse for my tardiness – I was watching my nephew’s soccer team squander a 2-1 halftime lead to lose 4-2 across town. Rugby might be our national religion, but family has to come first.
Try to remember that.
Anyway, the red-and-blacks are putting a beating on the ‘Naki and are already up 17-0 just after halftime. It’s their best display of the season and they don’t ease up, running in a bonus-point try in the final moments for a 27-0 outcome.
The afternoon fixtures have been a godsend for people of Christchurch. Since the quakes made AMI Stadium unplayable, they’ve had to take home games to Rugby Park, where the floodlights are not up to broadcast standard as dusk falls.
Canterbury have struggled at times this season, but such is the even nature of this competition, their victory today puts them on top of the premiership table.
Personally, I don’t really care who wins the provincial titles – I’m much more interested in which players put their hands up for a chance at the next level. Canterbury wing Patrick Osborne has definitely been one of those for me, and he again shows his lethal combination of strength and speed to good effect in this outing.
I’ve also been to the gym this morning and need a shower, but Auckland v Bay of Plenty has already started, so that will have to wait until halftime.
But the signs are ominous. Twenty minutes into the game, Auckland are 7-3 up, but I can’t remember anything about the on-field action.
The highlight has been a discussion among the commentators about how long it takes to set down a scrum and I totally agree. This whole crouch-touch-pause-engage business just seems to have made this area of the game even messier than it was before.
Maybe it’s time to totally depower the scrum, rugby league style.
A few minutes into the second half – Bay up 13-10 – promising Auckland lock Liaki Moli is being stretchered off the field with a shoulder problem. I hate seeing slow-motion replays of athletes getting injured, ever since the day I watched about six different views of a guy breaking his forearm at the world wrist-wrestling championships.
Moli is replaced by Steven Luatua, who promptly scores the go-ahead try. Luatua is another to catch my eye this season, although he’s a little short (1.95m) for a lock and may end up as a blindside flanker.
It’s a beautiful day outside and most right-thinking New Zealanders are probably mowing their lawns or taking their kids to the park. But the setting sun has the audacity to drift across my TV screen and the blind must come down.
Auckland prevail 25-16, but BOP, looking unbeatable only a couple of weeks ago, blow a possible bonus point by chasing their third try instead of taking a very kickable penalty attempt in the final minute. This is their fourth loss in a row after four wins to start the comp, and the wheels are well and truly off their campaign.
SKY’s Heartland rugby coverage is on for an hour, but maybe it’s time for a little nana nap.
OK, when I nap, there’s nothing “little” about it. I’m still drifting in and out of consciousness through the first half of North Harbour v Northland, which is probably the best way to watch Harbour this season.
Any season, actually.
When they squander an 11-point lead to trail 26-23 with 20 minutes remaining, you can just sense they’re about to let another one slip. But Matt “The Monster” Leamanu strikes right back and finally, FINALLY Harbour fans have a reason to celebrate.
The last clash of the day pits championship leaders Manawatu against the team that led the premiership into this weekend, Waikato. Guided by the young inside combination of Aaron Smith and Aaron Cruden, the Turbos have been the real darlings of this competition.
Remember, too, it wasn’t that long ago that the NZRFU had consigned this outfit to the heartland wilderness, only to reverse their decision against a groundswell of opposition from the Buckethead fans.
Commentator Murray Mexted opens the coverage with another of his pearlers – a reference to the “girls on heat” in a sideline spa pool – before Manawatu runs in a couple of the tries of the season to open up a 21-3 margin midway through the first half.
The Mooloo get a couple of tries just before halftime to breathe life into their hopes, but the Turbos aren’t to be denied, running out 54-20 victors.
With 29 points, Cruden just carves up. Over the past couple of years, he has probably suffered the weight of expectation more than any other player in NZ rugby, but this ITM Cup has really been his coming out party.
Spare a thought, too, for Manawatu coach Dave Rennie, who receives a standing ovation as he made his way down to the sideline as the final seconds ticked off the clock. He’s heading to Hamilton to take over the Chiefs next summer, so tonight’s match held some special interest for him.
It’s now 9.15pm – the ITM marathon is over for today, but the Warriors kick off against Penrith in quarter of an hour. Time to get out of this bean bag and find a change of scenery for the league.
And don’t forget, if you aren’t already suffering overload, tomorrow’s rugby fest starts at 3am with the All Blacks v Springboks.
Think I’ll be sound asleep by then, dreaming of Tasman v Otago and Counties Manukau v Hawke’s Bay in the afternoon.
This national provincial championship season has been a bit like that with games stacked on top of one another across all days of the week except (a little ironically) Monday.
Of course, a couple of other codes have made Monday night football a feature of their brand, so maybe NOT playing then has become a bizarre point of difference for rugby.
Those old skool types who have advocated a return to afternoon rugby have gotten their wish to the extent it’s almost morning rugby. This Canterbury v Taranaki (as it turns out) encounter started at 12.35pm.
I’ve got a valid excuse for my tardiness – I was watching my nephew’s soccer team squander a 2-1 halftime lead to lose 4-2 across town. Rugby might be our national religion, but family has to come first.
Try to remember that.
Anyway, the red-and-blacks are putting a beating on the ‘Naki and are already up 17-0 just after halftime. It’s their best display of the season and they don’t ease up, running in a bonus-point try in the final moments for a 27-0 outcome.
The afternoon fixtures have been a godsend for people of Christchurch. Since the quakes made AMI Stadium unplayable, they’ve had to take home games to Rugby Park, where the floodlights are not up to broadcast standard as dusk falls.
Canterbury have struggled at times this season, but such is the even nature of this competition, their victory today puts them on top of the premiership table.
Personally, I don’t really care who wins the provincial titles – I’m much more interested in which players put their hands up for a chance at the next level. Canterbury wing Patrick Osborne has definitely been one of those for me, and he again shows his lethal combination of strength and speed to good effect in this outing.
I’ve also been to the gym this morning and need a shower, but Auckland v Bay of Plenty has already started, so that will have to wait until halftime.
But the signs are ominous. Twenty minutes into the game, Auckland are 7-3 up, but I can’t remember anything about the on-field action.
The highlight has been a discussion among the commentators about how long it takes to set down a scrum and I totally agree. This whole crouch-touch-pause-engage business just seems to have made this area of the game even messier than it was before.
Maybe it’s time to totally depower the scrum, rugby league style.
A few minutes into the second half – Bay up 13-10 – promising Auckland lock Liaki Moli is being stretchered off the field with a shoulder problem. I hate seeing slow-motion replays of athletes getting injured, ever since the day I watched about six different views of a guy breaking his forearm at the world wrist-wrestling championships.
Moli is replaced by Steven Luatua, who promptly scores the go-ahead try. Luatua is another to catch my eye this season, although he’s a little short (1.95m) for a lock and may end up as a blindside flanker.
It’s a beautiful day outside and most right-thinking New Zealanders are probably mowing their lawns or taking their kids to the park. But the setting sun has the audacity to drift across my TV screen and the blind must come down.
Auckland prevail 25-16, but BOP, looking unbeatable only a couple of weeks ago, blow a possible bonus point by chasing their third try instead of taking a very kickable penalty attempt in the final minute. This is their fourth loss in a row after four wins to start the comp, and the wheels are well and truly off their campaign.
SKY’s Heartland rugby coverage is on for an hour, but maybe it’s time for a little nana nap.
OK, when I nap, there’s nothing “little” about it. I’m still drifting in and out of consciousness through the first half of North Harbour v Northland, which is probably the best way to watch Harbour this season.
Any season, actually.
When they squander an 11-point lead to trail 26-23 with 20 minutes remaining, you can just sense they’re about to let another one slip. But Matt “The Monster” Leamanu strikes right back and finally, FINALLY Harbour fans have a reason to celebrate.
The last clash of the day pits championship leaders Manawatu against the team that led the premiership into this weekend, Waikato. Guided by the young inside combination of Aaron Smith and Aaron Cruden, the Turbos have been the real darlings of this competition.
Remember, too, it wasn’t that long ago that the NZRFU had consigned this outfit to the heartland wilderness, only to reverse their decision against a groundswell of opposition from the Buckethead fans.
Commentator Murray Mexted opens the coverage with another of his pearlers – a reference to the “girls on heat” in a sideline spa pool – before Manawatu runs in a couple of the tries of the season to open up a 21-3 margin midway through the first half.
The Mooloo get a couple of tries just before halftime to breathe life into their hopes, but the Turbos aren’t to be denied, running out 54-20 victors.
With 29 points, Cruden just carves up. Over the past couple of years, he has probably suffered the weight of expectation more than any other player in NZ rugby, but this ITM Cup has really been his coming out party.
Spare a thought, too, for Manawatu coach Dave Rennie, who receives a standing ovation as he made his way down to the sideline as the final seconds ticked off the clock. He’s heading to Hamilton to take over the Chiefs next summer, so tonight’s match held some special interest for him.
It’s now 9.15pm – the ITM marathon is over for today, but the Warriors kick off against Penrith in quarter of an hour. Time to get out of this bean bag and find a change of scenery for the league.
And don’t forget, if you aren’t already suffering overload, tomorrow’s rugby fest starts at 3am with the All Blacks v Springboks.
Think I’ll be sound asleep by then, dreaming of Tasman v Otago and Counties Manukau v Hawke’s Bay in the afternoon.
Monday, 15 August 2011
CREDIT WHERE IT'S DUE
Whatever you think of Steve Williams’ outburst last week, he did raise the question of how any of us would get by without a little help from our friends.
To be fair, the Kiwi caddy’s comments after guiding Aussie Adam Scott to convincing victory at the WCG-Bridgestone Invitational lacked class. A whole range of factors combined to create the perfect storm of controversy as the world’s top golfers prepared for this week’s PGA Championship.
Williams’ firing as Tiger Woods’ bagman, the return of Woods from injury, Scott’s emergence as a bona fide title contender and, by no means least, the public and media’s thirst for any new twist to the Woods soap opera ... it was all too good to be true.
Even before the Williams found the microphone thrust under his nose on the 18th green, CBS coverage of the event had put him squarely in the spotlight, picking up and broadcasting much of his dialogue with Scott through the last round.
They set the cunning trap and our guy walked right into it, obviously still smarting from his sudden fallout with Woods.
The response from other golfers was curious. They didn’t seem to have a problem with Williams putting the boot into Woods, only that he claimed just a little too much credit for Scott’s win.
Sure, Scott was the one swinging the clubs. But the CBS intrusion did reveal that the caddy had a huge influence on which clubs were swung and what shots were played.
At one point, Williams called his man off the ball and handed him another club, with which he hit an approach that led to a key birdie. Even the pinpoint final approach on the 18th was achieved only after earnest discussion between the pair.
It was truly a team effort, but how often do you hear a golfer acknowledge his caddy’s contribution? You probably wouldn’t have heard it from Scott this time if the CBS interviewers hadn’t imposed their own agenda on proceedings.
Recently, I was part of a five-person support crew for Aucklander Ron Skelton as he cycled in the Race Across America – 5000km from California to Maryland in 12 days.
No question, Ron was the guy wearing saddle sores 22 hours a day on the bike. But he was also quick to tell anyone listening that the only way Team iRONman could be any stronger was if it had a better rider.
It’s an obvious exaggeration, but it showed two things – Ron was an incredibly caring guy who knew how to inspire his team, even when he was utterly exhausted, and he also knew he couldn’t have finished this race by himself.
This wasn’t just Ron Skelton’s success – it belonged to the team and he was happy to share it. There aren’t many so-called individual sports where you’ll find that selfless attitude.
Boxing might qualify. Even if trainers are largely ignored, fighters seem perfectly willing to thank God (or whichever deity they subscribe to) for getting them through this contest alive.
But maybe the only sport you consistently hear winners giving credit to their mates is motor racing, where drivers will usually compliment their pit crew on a great car.
The other day, I even heard one driver – I think it was Nascar ace Jimmie Johnson – almost in tears, desperately trying to put a positive spin on the fact his crew had clearly dropped the ball and cost him the chequered flag. It went something like this ...
“I know how hard these guys work to be great and I know how much it will hurt them to perform like this.”
Now, that’s throwing someone under the bus in the nicest possible way.
Back to Williams. Everyone has their own opinion on his comments.
There are many reasons why Scott’s victory might have meant so much to him. It’s not always about the size of the prize and undoubtedly Wood’s presence had something to do with it.
But Scott has also been something of an unrealized talent on the PGA Tour and this result may well prove a turning point. Maybe Williams is relishing the opportunity to pass his experience on to Scott at this point in his career.
One of the things I love about Kiwis is we tend to speak our minds. There are no airs or graces – what you see is what you get.
Williams went beyond that. His rant seemed to be very self serving and after all the great things he had achieved over the years (and over the previous four days), I was disappointed to have New Zealand represented so immodestly on the international stage.
Two thoughts struck me as I listened – firstly, how Woods had fired previous caddy “Fluff” Cowan when he began to enjoy his own celebrity status rather too much.
Also, Woods had an unfortunate reputation for bad behaviour around the greens and fairways, and Williams’ outburst made me wonder how much his sidekick had contributed to that.
I’m sure Williams has learned his lesson, and hopefully he’ll go on to notch up another 145 victories and a place in the Golf Hall of Fame. Then he’ll have the perfect platform to talk about himself.
Amazingly, no caddies are yet among the Hall’s 130-plus members.
To be fair, the Kiwi caddy’s comments after guiding Aussie Adam Scott to convincing victory at the WCG-Bridgestone Invitational lacked class. A whole range of factors combined to create the perfect storm of controversy as the world’s top golfers prepared for this week’s PGA Championship.
Williams’ firing as Tiger Woods’ bagman, the return of Woods from injury, Scott’s emergence as a bona fide title contender and, by no means least, the public and media’s thirst for any new twist to the Woods soap opera ... it was all too good to be true.
Even before the Williams found the microphone thrust under his nose on the 18th green, CBS coverage of the event had put him squarely in the spotlight, picking up and broadcasting much of his dialogue with Scott through the last round.
They set the cunning trap and our guy walked right into it, obviously still smarting from his sudden fallout with Woods.
The response from other golfers was curious. They didn’t seem to have a problem with Williams putting the boot into Woods, only that he claimed just a little too much credit for Scott’s win.
Sure, Scott was the one swinging the clubs. But the CBS intrusion did reveal that the caddy had a huge influence on which clubs were swung and what shots were played.
At one point, Williams called his man off the ball and handed him another club, with which he hit an approach that led to a key birdie. Even the pinpoint final approach on the 18th was achieved only after earnest discussion between the pair.
It was truly a team effort, but how often do you hear a golfer acknowledge his caddy’s contribution? You probably wouldn’t have heard it from Scott this time if the CBS interviewers hadn’t imposed their own agenda on proceedings.
Recently, I was part of a five-person support crew for Aucklander Ron Skelton as he cycled in the Race Across America – 5000km from California to Maryland in 12 days.
No question, Ron was the guy wearing saddle sores 22 hours a day on the bike. But he was also quick to tell anyone listening that the only way Team iRONman could be any stronger was if it had a better rider.
It’s an obvious exaggeration, but it showed two things – Ron was an incredibly caring guy who knew how to inspire his team, even when he was utterly exhausted, and he also knew he couldn’t have finished this race by himself.
This wasn’t just Ron Skelton’s success – it belonged to the team and he was happy to share it. There aren’t many so-called individual sports where you’ll find that selfless attitude.
Boxing might qualify. Even if trainers are largely ignored, fighters seem perfectly willing to thank God (or whichever deity they subscribe to) for getting them through this contest alive.
But maybe the only sport you consistently hear winners giving credit to their mates is motor racing, where drivers will usually compliment their pit crew on a great car.
The other day, I even heard one driver – I think it was Nascar ace Jimmie Johnson – almost in tears, desperately trying to put a positive spin on the fact his crew had clearly dropped the ball and cost him the chequered flag. It went something like this ...
“I know how hard these guys work to be great and I know how much it will hurt them to perform like this.”
Now, that’s throwing someone under the bus in the nicest possible way.
Back to Williams. Everyone has their own opinion on his comments.
There are many reasons why Scott’s victory might have meant so much to him. It’s not always about the size of the prize and undoubtedly Wood’s presence had something to do with it.
But Scott has also been something of an unrealized talent on the PGA Tour and this result may well prove a turning point. Maybe Williams is relishing the opportunity to pass his experience on to Scott at this point in his career.
One of the things I love about Kiwis is we tend to speak our minds. There are no airs or graces – what you see is what you get.
Williams went beyond that. His rant seemed to be very self serving and after all the great things he had achieved over the years (and over the previous four days), I was disappointed to have New Zealand represented so immodestly on the international stage.
Two thoughts struck me as I listened – firstly, how Woods had fired previous caddy “Fluff” Cowan when he began to enjoy his own celebrity status rather too much.
Also, Woods had an unfortunate reputation for bad behaviour around the greens and fairways, and Williams’ outburst made me wonder how much his sidekick had contributed to that.
I’m sure Williams has learned his lesson, and hopefully he’ll go on to notch up another 145 victories and a place in the Golf Hall of Fame. Then he’ll have the perfect platform to talk about himself.
Amazingly, no caddies are yet among the Hall’s 130-plus members.
Sunday, 7 August 2011
WINDS OF CHANGE
Seriously, is anyone really surprised at how quickly the Hurricanes playing roster has unraveled under new coach Mark Hammett?
As many of the franchise’s established stars leave to find their fortunes elsewhere, those of us on the sidelines now understand that “loyalty” is not what it used to be, it’s not just a one (or two) way street and is now virtually a redundant concept in professional sport.
The latest to depart is All Black halfback Piri Weepu, whose signing with the Blues for next year’s Super 15 has prompted screams of betrayal from the Cake Tin faithful. How could he do this to us?
Well, why wouldn’t he?
Let’s look at it from Weepu’s perspective. His rugby world has been tipped on its head over the past 12 months.
He’s already seen some of his closest allies driven out of town and while the Hurricanes organization apparently wants him to stay, he’d likely have to adjust his approach to the game if he is to thrive under Hammett’s regime.
It’s natural for players to stick together under these circumstances. For years, Weepu has spilt blood in the trenches with his team-mates and is probably disgusted at how rudely they’re being treated right now.
It just won’t be the same without them and if things are going to change so drastically, why shouldn’t he exercise the last vestige of control he has over his destiny and go start again somewhere new?
These are the kinds of decisions we all make in our lives every day. They’re never taken lightly, so good luck to him.
With all this going on so close to home, it’s sobering to watch a similar scenario unfold in the American NFL, where quarterback Carson Palmer wants to be traded from a terrible Cincinnati Bengals side, but administrators have dug their toes in and forced him into retirement rather than tear up his contract.
Sure, a contract is a contract and the Bengals don't want to reward Palmer for breaking his, but, if it suited them, you can bet Palmer would be out of there with no control over where. Everyone expects loyalty, but it’s such a fickle commodity.
Meanwhile, back in New Zealand, I’m NOT one of those beating up on Hammett.
The former All Black hooker has come from a winning culture at Canterbury and the Crusaders, and has been asked to transform an underachieving programme in Wellington.
And let’s be very clear – given the talent available to them, the Hurricanes have been disappointing.
For whatever reason, the likes of Weepu, Cory Jane, Hosea Gear, Conrad Smith, Ma’a Nonu, Aaron Cruden, Victor Vito, Neemia Tialata and Andrew Hore (not to mention Christian Cullen, Jonah Lomu, Tana Umaga, Jerry Collins and Rodney So’oialo before them) have failed to deliver a Super Rugby title to the capital.
Their free-flowing style of play has been entertaining, but hasn’t proved a successful formula and, too often, fans have been left lamenting its inconsistencies. Those are the same supporters now hammering on Hammett for trying to buck the trend.
During his first season at the helm, he tried to work with what he had inherited, but found many of his stars either unable or unwilling to move from their comfort zones. Now he’s searching for others that will share his vision.
Give the Hurricanes some credit for backing their coach in this process, because many organisations would simply have bowed to player power. But there will undoubtedly be more pain and some defeats before things turn around.
I’m also NOT jumping on the Blues bandwagon now they have a backline that features Weepu, Nonu, Alby Matthewson, U20s star Gareth Anscombe, Isaia Toeava and possibly Sonny Bill Williams.
On paper, they’re all great talents, but there are already questions over how Weepu, Matthewson and Anscombe will co-exist close to the scrum. And if both Nonu and Williams end up in Auckland, who will wear the “12” jersey they both covet at international level and who will play out of their preferred position?
Chemistry isn’t a word you readily associate with the Blues, so coach Pat Lam clearly has his work cut out molding this lineup into a championship unit.
As many of the franchise’s established stars leave to find their fortunes elsewhere, those of us on the sidelines now understand that “loyalty” is not what it used to be, it’s not just a one (or two) way street and is now virtually a redundant concept in professional sport.
The latest to depart is All Black halfback Piri Weepu, whose signing with the Blues for next year’s Super 15 has prompted screams of betrayal from the Cake Tin faithful. How could he do this to us?
Well, why wouldn’t he?
Let’s look at it from Weepu’s perspective. His rugby world has been tipped on its head over the past 12 months.
He’s already seen some of his closest allies driven out of town and while the Hurricanes organization apparently wants him to stay, he’d likely have to adjust his approach to the game if he is to thrive under Hammett’s regime.
It’s natural for players to stick together under these circumstances. For years, Weepu has spilt blood in the trenches with his team-mates and is probably disgusted at how rudely they’re being treated right now.
It just won’t be the same without them and if things are going to change so drastically, why shouldn’t he exercise the last vestige of control he has over his destiny and go start again somewhere new?
These are the kinds of decisions we all make in our lives every day. They’re never taken lightly, so good luck to him.
With all this going on so close to home, it’s sobering to watch a similar scenario unfold in the American NFL, where quarterback Carson Palmer wants to be traded from a terrible Cincinnati Bengals side, but administrators have dug their toes in and forced him into retirement rather than tear up his contract.
Sure, a contract is a contract and the Bengals don't want to reward Palmer for breaking his, but, if it suited them, you can bet Palmer would be out of there with no control over where. Everyone expects loyalty, but it’s such a fickle commodity.
Meanwhile, back in New Zealand, I’m NOT one of those beating up on Hammett.
The former All Black hooker has come from a winning culture at Canterbury and the Crusaders, and has been asked to transform an underachieving programme in Wellington.
And let’s be very clear – given the talent available to them, the Hurricanes have been disappointing.
For whatever reason, the likes of Weepu, Cory Jane, Hosea Gear, Conrad Smith, Ma’a Nonu, Aaron Cruden, Victor Vito, Neemia Tialata and Andrew Hore (not to mention Christian Cullen, Jonah Lomu, Tana Umaga, Jerry Collins and Rodney So’oialo before them) have failed to deliver a Super Rugby title to the capital.
Their free-flowing style of play has been entertaining, but hasn’t proved a successful formula and, too often, fans have been left lamenting its inconsistencies. Those are the same supporters now hammering on Hammett for trying to buck the trend.
During his first season at the helm, he tried to work with what he had inherited, but found many of his stars either unable or unwilling to move from their comfort zones. Now he’s searching for others that will share his vision.
Give the Hurricanes some credit for backing their coach in this process, because many organisations would simply have bowed to player power. But there will undoubtedly be more pain and some defeats before things turn around.
I’m also NOT jumping on the Blues bandwagon now they have a backline that features Weepu, Nonu, Alby Matthewson, U20s star Gareth Anscombe, Isaia Toeava and possibly Sonny Bill Williams.
On paper, they’re all great talents, but there are already questions over how Weepu, Matthewson and Anscombe will co-exist close to the scrum. And if both Nonu and Williams end up in Auckland, who will wear the “12” jersey they both covet at international level and who will play out of their preferred position?
Chemistry isn’t a word you readily associate with the Blues, so coach Pat Lam clearly has his work cut out molding this lineup into a championship unit.
Thursday, 28 July 2011
END OF THE MING DYNASTY
Being 6ft 5in (1.95m) tall is a mixed blessing in a land of giants.
Among mere mortals, it enables you to tower above most crowds, and draws the usual “what’s the weather like up there” and “do you play basketball” taunts. But when you hang out among true basketballers, 6-5 is really nothing special.
And it’s never less special than when you’re standing in the shadow of 7ft 6in (2.28m), which was exactly where I found myself on the first day of my first tour of China as Tall Blacks media manager back in 2002.
Of course, the man mountain in front of me at the lunch buffet was Chinese hero Yao Ming, who officially retired from the sport last week. At the time, I was just hoping he would leave something for my plate.
Later that day, as we became acquainted with our surroundings in Lushan – an old mountain retreat for the Communist Party – Tall Blacks point guard Mark Dickel wondered if there might be a Yeti living in the nearby forest. Physio Dave Harris mused we could already have one staying in the hotel with us.
Mark and the Kiwis had faced Yao two years earlier at the Sydney Olympics, where he combined with fellow giants Wang Zhizhi and Menke Bateer as the imposing “Great Wall of China”.
But this was my first encounter with him, so the next morning, I hung back after TB practice to catch an early glimpse of Yao in action. It didn’t take long for the locals to realise they were being watching, and I was promptly ushered into the back of a police car and escorted back to the team hotel.
Yao had not yet entered the NBA, but as this tour tipped off, Chinese authorities and the Houston Rockets were haggling over his talents. The Chinese were understandably keen to retain his services for their national team, while the Rockets wanted to make him their marquee player.
Soon after, Houston selected him as top pick of the NBA draft, but one of my vivid memories of this bizarre tour was seeing a frustrated Yao surrounded by little guys in suits, literally trying to drag him in three or four different directions at once. It seemed to sum up his predicament perfectly.
That tug-of-war probably led to his early retirement after a career beset by injury. When healthy, Yao was an eight-time NBA All-Star and absolutely dominant on the world stage.
When he first entered the NBA, few imagined he would be as good as he turned out, perhaps because the international giants before him – players like German Uwe Blab (7ft 1in/21.3m), Sudanese Manute Bol (7ft 7in/2.31m) and Romanian Georghe Muresan (7ft 7in/2.31m) – were little more than circus acts.
NBA legend Charles Barkley promised to kiss the “ass” of former Rockets team-mate Kenny Smith if Yao scored more than 19 points in game during his rookie season. In his eighth outing, Yao had 20 against the Lakers and Barkley duly puckered up for a donkey bought specially for the occasion.
Before their first meeting, Shaquille O’Neal said “Tell Yao Ming, ‘ching chong yang wah ah soh’”, prompting accusations of racism. Yao said he believed Shaq was just joking, then rejected his shot twice in the opening minutes of a 10 points/10 rebounds/six blocks performance.
But in the last six years, he missed about 250 games to a range of mainly stress-related problems to his feet and legs. There were undoubtedly times when both teams could have made allowances for such a rare talent, but the physical toll of satisfying two masters became too much.
In the end, a broken left foot, suffered during the 2009 NBA playoffs caused him to miss the entire 09/10 schedule and let him down again early last season. There was no way back from that.
But Yao’s contribution to the sport didn’t end with his prowess on the court. He really popularized basketball and the NBA in Asia, opening up the world’s biggest market in terms of population.
Much of that had to do with the dignity and poise with which he conducted himself throughout all the frustrations. He helped raise money for a variety of causes in China and personally contributed $US2 million to Sichuan earthquake relief in 2008.
On hearing of his retirement, NBA commissioner David Stern credited Yao with “a wonderful mixture of talent, dedication, humanitarian aspirations and a sense of humour”.
Surely the Tall Blacks’ most remarkable encounter with Yao came at the 2002 world championships in Indianapolis when New Zealand faced China in a must-win pool game. The Asian champions got out to an early 20-point lead, but the Tall Blacks clawed their way to an historic victory that sent them through to the quarterfinals.
Yao produced a perfect shooting night for 27 points, but also featured in two incidents that will long stay with anyone who was there that night. He had to sit early in the fourth quarter after Pero Cameron cleverly faked him into the air for his fourth personal foul – PC was shooting from the arc and made all three free throws in a pivotal play.
But, to be fair, the Chinese colossus had been getting a raw deal from the referees, who were allowing a fired-up Rob Hickey to get away with absolute murder at the defensive end. Poor Yao seemed on the verge of tears.
At one point, he tumbled to the floor right in front of the Kiwi bench, and Rob stood over him, yelling “All night long, mate ... all night long”.
Classic.
Thanks for the memories, Yao.
Among mere mortals, it enables you to tower above most crowds, and draws the usual “what’s the weather like up there” and “do you play basketball” taunts. But when you hang out among true basketballers, 6-5 is really nothing special.
And it’s never less special than when you’re standing in the shadow of 7ft 6in (2.28m), which was exactly where I found myself on the first day of my first tour of China as Tall Blacks media manager back in 2002.
Of course, the man mountain in front of me at the lunch buffet was Chinese hero Yao Ming, who officially retired from the sport last week. At the time, I was just hoping he would leave something for my plate.
Later that day, as we became acquainted with our surroundings in Lushan – an old mountain retreat for the Communist Party – Tall Blacks point guard Mark Dickel wondered if there might be a Yeti living in the nearby forest. Physio Dave Harris mused we could already have one staying in the hotel with us.
Mark and the Kiwis had faced Yao two years earlier at the Sydney Olympics, where he combined with fellow giants Wang Zhizhi and Menke Bateer as the imposing “Great Wall of China”.
But this was my first encounter with him, so the next morning, I hung back after TB practice to catch an early glimpse of Yao in action. It didn’t take long for the locals to realise they were being watching, and I was promptly ushered into the back of a police car and escorted back to the team hotel.
Yao had not yet entered the NBA, but as this tour tipped off, Chinese authorities and the Houston Rockets were haggling over his talents. The Chinese were understandably keen to retain his services for their national team, while the Rockets wanted to make him their marquee player.
Soon after, Houston selected him as top pick of the NBA draft, but one of my vivid memories of this bizarre tour was seeing a frustrated Yao surrounded by little guys in suits, literally trying to drag him in three or four different directions at once. It seemed to sum up his predicament perfectly.
That tug-of-war probably led to his early retirement after a career beset by injury. When healthy, Yao was an eight-time NBA All-Star and absolutely dominant on the world stage.
When he first entered the NBA, few imagined he would be as good as he turned out, perhaps because the international giants before him – players like German Uwe Blab (7ft 1in/21.3m), Sudanese Manute Bol (7ft 7in/2.31m) and Romanian Georghe Muresan (7ft 7in/2.31m) – were little more than circus acts.
NBA legend Charles Barkley promised to kiss the “ass” of former Rockets team-mate Kenny Smith if Yao scored more than 19 points in game during his rookie season. In his eighth outing, Yao had 20 against the Lakers and Barkley duly puckered up for a donkey bought specially for the occasion.
Before their first meeting, Shaquille O’Neal said “Tell Yao Ming, ‘ching chong yang wah ah soh’”, prompting accusations of racism. Yao said he believed Shaq was just joking, then rejected his shot twice in the opening minutes of a 10 points/10 rebounds/six blocks performance.
But in the last six years, he missed about 250 games to a range of mainly stress-related problems to his feet and legs. There were undoubtedly times when both teams could have made allowances for such a rare talent, but the physical toll of satisfying two masters became too much.
In the end, a broken left foot, suffered during the 2009 NBA playoffs caused him to miss the entire 09/10 schedule and let him down again early last season. There was no way back from that.
But Yao’s contribution to the sport didn’t end with his prowess on the court. He really popularized basketball and the NBA in Asia, opening up the world’s biggest market in terms of population.
Much of that had to do with the dignity and poise with which he conducted himself throughout all the frustrations. He helped raise money for a variety of causes in China and personally contributed $US2 million to Sichuan earthquake relief in 2008.
On hearing of his retirement, NBA commissioner David Stern credited Yao with “a wonderful mixture of talent, dedication, humanitarian aspirations and a sense of humour”.
Surely the Tall Blacks’ most remarkable encounter with Yao came at the 2002 world championships in Indianapolis when New Zealand faced China in a must-win pool game. The Asian champions got out to an early 20-point lead, but the Tall Blacks clawed their way to an historic victory that sent them through to the quarterfinals.
Yao produced a perfect shooting night for 27 points, but also featured in two incidents that will long stay with anyone who was there that night. He had to sit early in the fourth quarter after Pero Cameron cleverly faked him into the air for his fourth personal foul – PC was shooting from the arc and made all three free throws in a pivotal play.
But, to be fair, the Chinese colossus had been getting a raw deal from the referees, who were allowing a fired-up Rob Hickey to get away with absolute murder at the defensive end. Poor Yao seemed on the verge of tears.
At one point, he tumbled to the floor right in front of the Kiwi bench, and Rob stood over him, yelling “All night long, mate ... all night long”.
Classic.
Thanks for the memories, Yao.
Wednesday, 20 July 2011
WHEN LOSING IS HARD TO SWALLOW
Been thinking a lot about the word “choker”.
I hate that term. I think it’s used by people who are trying to blame someone for their own sense of betrayal.
Anyone using the word probably needs to take a closer look at themselves.
According to an ESPN poll, 70% of Americans (or at least the 75,000 who have nothing better to do that respond to online polls) are feeling betrayed by the same women’s soccer team that had captured their imaginations over the past three weeks. In case you missed it, they were beaten by Japan in a penalty shootout at the FIFA World Cup.
Many Kiwis are feeling the same way about the Silver Ferns’ OT loss to Australia at the world netball championships.
People, get over it!
The reason I hate the word “choker” is that it’s based on an assumption that someone “should” win. And the thing I love most about sport (and the reason I never bet on it) is that anything can happen and often does.
Just ask the Wallabies after they unraveled against Manu Samoa over the weekend.
Anyone remember the 2002 America’s Cup when Black Magic was supposed to sail rings around the challenger, but sank?
Americans probably invented the expression “choker” because they pretty much expect their teams to win any time they take the sporting field.
The benchmark for “choking” was set low by a Buffalo Bills NFL team that lost four consecutive Super Bowls from 1990-93. Of course, they’re also the only club to ever play in four consecutive Super Bowls, but that’s conveniently overlooked.
Using the “c” word automatically disrespects the winners. It doesn’t give them any credit for a performance that was superior on the day for any number of reasons, whether it be preparation, inspiration or simply dumb luck.
This week, the American public underestimated the Japanese courage and resilience (as if history hadn’t thrown up enough previous examples of that) and got caught up in the hype around their own team, despite a loss to Sweden in pool play.
To be fair, sports are often guilty of cranking up expectations to an unreasonable extent for commercial reasons. If you make big promises, you run the risk of wearing that “choker” label when you fall short.
That’s why athletes are often at pains to claim underdog status - something about under-promising and over-delivering. Are you making notes, LeBron James and the Miami Heat?
You can almost understand the “choker” tag if it’s applied to a team or individual with a record of not winning on the biggest stage. For a long time, leftie Phil Mickelson had that reputation in golf, until he captured the first of his now four Majors.
But the US soccer women are reigning Olympic champions, so they’ve delivered in the past and very recently. Closer to home, the Ferns took Commonwealth Games gold last year in almost identical circumstances to the way they lost this month’s world championship final.
Which raises another point – just because someone won last time doesn’t mean they should win next time. Sport doesn’t work like that and anyone who thinks it does has either never played it at any competitive level or they’ve conveniently forgotten.
Here’s something else for the armchair critics to consider – maybe the Silver Ferns simply aren’t as good as their Australian counterparts. Maybe their previous successes – and there have been a few – are more a case of overachievement.
There aren’t many sports where New Zealand can justifiably expect to beat their rivals from across the Tasman, given the Aussies’ bigger population base and more advanced talent development structures. Rugby may be the only one and even that advantage isn’t as clearcut as it used to be.
Several teams, though, have shown they can compete and steal the odd victory, often significant ones. The rugby league Kiwis are a good example and so are basketball’s Tall Blacks.
I would submit the Ferns are another. At no stage in their history have they dominated the rivalry enough to justify outright favouritism against the Diamonds.
Sure, the NZ women held a six-goal halftime lead, but even that doesn’t mean they should have won. Top-level contests are usually a case of ebbs and flows, and often decided by who gets the last laugh.
If you’re a sports fan, it’s OK to feel disappointed, but remember that's nothing compared to what the players and coaches are felling, having invested physically, emotionally and financially over years for this shot at glory.
Take a step back, look at the bigger picture and try to appreciate the positives rather than get caught up in the vicious negative spin.
They say sport doesn’t develop character; it reveals it. That applies as much to those on the sidelines as it does to those within them.
I hate that term. I think it’s used by people who are trying to blame someone for their own sense of betrayal.
Anyone using the word probably needs to take a closer look at themselves.
According to an ESPN poll, 70% of Americans (or at least the 75,000 who have nothing better to do that respond to online polls) are feeling betrayed by the same women’s soccer team that had captured their imaginations over the past three weeks. In case you missed it, they were beaten by Japan in a penalty shootout at the FIFA World Cup.
Many Kiwis are feeling the same way about the Silver Ferns’ OT loss to Australia at the world netball championships.
People, get over it!
The reason I hate the word “choker” is that it’s based on an assumption that someone “should” win. And the thing I love most about sport (and the reason I never bet on it) is that anything can happen and often does.
Just ask the Wallabies after they unraveled against Manu Samoa over the weekend.
Anyone remember the 2002 America’s Cup when Black Magic was supposed to sail rings around the challenger, but sank?
Americans probably invented the expression “choker” because they pretty much expect their teams to win any time they take the sporting field.
The benchmark for “choking” was set low by a Buffalo Bills NFL team that lost four consecutive Super Bowls from 1990-93. Of course, they’re also the only club to ever play in four consecutive Super Bowls, but that’s conveniently overlooked.
Using the “c” word automatically disrespects the winners. It doesn’t give them any credit for a performance that was superior on the day for any number of reasons, whether it be preparation, inspiration or simply dumb luck.
This week, the American public underestimated the Japanese courage and resilience (as if history hadn’t thrown up enough previous examples of that) and got caught up in the hype around their own team, despite a loss to Sweden in pool play.
To be fair, sports are often guilty of cranking up expectations to an unreasonable extent for commercial reasons. If you make big promises, you run the risk of wearing that “choker” label when you fall short.
That’s why athletes are often at pains to claim underdog status - something about under-promising and over-delivering. Are you making notes, LeBron James and the Miami Heat?
You can almost understand the “choker” tag if it’s applied to a team or individual with a record of not winning on the biggest stage. For a long time, leftie Phil Mickelson had that reputation in golf, until he captured the first of his now four Majors.
But the US soccer women are reigning Olympic champions, so they’ve delivered in the past and very recently. Closer to home, the Ferns took Commonwealth Games gold last year in almost identical circumstances to the way they lost this month’s world championship final.
Which raises another point – just because someone won last time doesn’t mean they should win next time. Sport doesn’t work like that and anyone who thinks it does has either never played it at any competitive level or they’ve conveniently forgotten.
Here’s something else for the armchair critics to consider – maybe the Silver Ferns simply aren’t as good as their Australian counterparts. Maybe their previous successes – and there have been a few – are more a case of overachievement.
There aren’t many sports where New Zealand can justifiably expect to beat their rivals from across the Tasman, given the Aussies’ bigger population base and more advanced talent development structures. Rugby may be the only one and even that advantage isn’t as clearcut as it used to be.
Several teams, though, have shown they can compete and steal the odd victory, often significant ones. The rugby league Kiwis are a good example and so are basketball’s Tall Blacks.
I would submit the Ferns are another. At no stage in their history have they dominated the rivalry enough to justify outright favouritism against the Diamonds.
Sure, the NZ women held a six-goal halftime lead, but even that doesn’t mean they should have won. Top-level contests are usually a case of ebbs and flows, and often decided by who gets the last laugh.
If you’re a sports fan, it’s OK to feel disappointed, but remember that's nothing compared to what the players and coaches are felling, having invested physically, emotionally and financially over years for this shot at glory.
Take a step back, look at the bigger picture and try to appreciate the positives rather than get caught up in the vicious negative spin.
They say sport doesn’t develop character; it reveals it. That applies as much to those on the sidelines as it does to those within them.
Wednesday, 13 July 2011
THOUGHTS FROM THE RECLINER (PART UNO)
So, while the search for meaningful employment continues, I've reacquainted myself with all that SKY Sport has to offer. Sad, but true :-/
Here's some random thoughts about some of the world's sporting events over the past few days ...
Super 15 Final
Well done to the Reds! This is a team with virtually no culture of success until this season, so winning the title in their first visit to the final cannot be underestimated.
Spearheaded by electrifying backs Will Genia, Quade Cooper and Digby Ioane, they've been the most exciting outfit to watch throughout the competition. But don't overlook the contribution of their forwards either - you don't win big games unless you can win a reasonable share of the ball.
Much has been said about how far the Crusaders have had to travel during a season with no home ground. Under the circumstances, making the final was probably achievement enough.
Year in and year out, the Crusaders have been the most consistent performers in the various forms of this competition and that's nothing to sneeze at. They may have bowed to a team with more spark this time, but you know they'll be there or thereabouts again next year.
You probably can't say that about the Reds yet.
And, by the way, just because the Aussies took out the Super 15 doesn't mean they'll win the World Cup. Different ball game, different style of play.
And, by the way, just because the Aussies took out the Super 15 doesn't mean they'll win the World Cup. Different ball game, different style of play.
Now, SKY, quit with the endless replays already!
Women's soccer
Seriously!
If you can't get excited by the US team's performance at the FIFA World Cup in Germany, well, you obviously haven't been watching the ESPN coverage.
You kinda expect Americans to get excited about any American, but not so much women's sport. And the gals have done their part, confronting the legacy left by the 1999 championship team, losing to Sweden in pool play, having to beat archrivals Brazil in the quarters and prevailing on penalties after drawing level in the final seconds of OT ...
Commentators have wrung their hands as star striker Abby Wambach struggled with form and injury, but overcame both to carry her team to the title game on Sunday.
It's better than a whole season of Desperate Housewives - is that show still running? - and you just know this is will continue to be a compelling story right up until the Americans beat Japan in the final. Then the displays of nationalistic pride will become just a little too much to stomach any longer.
Still, it's been a fun (armchair) ride.
And spare a thought for the Football Ferns, who gave the Japanese all they could handle before losing their tournament opener 2-1. Like their male counterparts last year, the Kiwi women provided a glimpse of what's possible with consistent exposure to the world's best teams.
Now the goal must be consistency in opportunities and consistency in performance.
MLB Home Run Derby
Back, back, back zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
There are only so many ways Chris Berman can describe a home run.
The one thing that salvaged this snorefest was the fact winner Robinson Cano had his dad pitching to him. This was a great father-son moment and you simply couldn't watch it without thinking about all the things your own dad had done for you during your life.
Baseball now has 12 months to think up a new plot twist to make the next edition vaguely watchable.
Steve Stricker
OK, so usually USPGA Tour events aren't that interesting, especially when they're won with scores like 30 under par. Golf just isn't meant to be that easy.
But Stricker joined a pretty elite band of threepeaters, including Woods, Nicklaus, Palmer, and Hogan, with his third straight victory at the John Deere Classic. And he did it by squandering a five-shot lead on the final nine holes, falling two behind and then holing from the fringe of the last green.
If only all golf was that thrilling. If only I could produce that kind of comeback against my mother!
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