– Fido trailer – a Zombie in every home. WHEN does this come out in NZ?
– Denis Leary gives Mel Gibson a verbal beatdown – nice. Poor old Mad Max, first the Malibu mansion, now this
– The prince of own goals – This is magic. This is still my favourite own goal ever, though, just ‘cos it’s Arsenal, and a member of George Graham’s back four.
– Ryan Giggs, 7 gives his first TV interview – his media minder is Alex Ferguson, 16
For the last four years (thanks, George) we’ve anticipated being World Champions. Now I feel like I’m ten again, and after running to check if my advanced Dungeon Master’s Guide has finally arrived, finding the postman cheerfully having a dump in the post box.Graeme Hill has a brilliant quote in the latest issue of Real Groove magazine: “Sport is as good a canvas as any for great drama to emerge”. Not sure if it’s his, but we saw that in spades in France (and feckin Cardiff, for that matter). England struggling manfully with their own limitations. South Africa going about the business of winning the damned thing with no nonsense. Argentina and France agreeing to forget about Rugby for a while and just kicking shit out of each other for a while. It was all brilliant. But if I’m honest, I was too bitter to enjoy it properly.
Now it’s all over, what’s left? Cricket? Tottenham *hollow laugh* ? The next Tri Nations? 2011? We’ve entered one of those natural lulls in the sporting calendar, and it all feels a bit flat. Hey, I was planning on being still drunk from the World Cup celebration right now. I’m seeking diversion on Facebook, but it’s not really the same, it it? Normal sport review nz service and stupidity to resume shortly.
– The Back Up – Yes, this would be great for a boring old home invasion, but in the event of an infestation of reanimated corpses… THAT’s when this little beauty would come into its own
– Here’s the video of that guy speeding through Paris in a Ferrari 275 – Wicked. As always, Wikipedia has the full story
– Modern day Cannonball Run – they’ve got a lot more gadgets and a lot less moustache than ol’ Burt and the gang
– Zombo.com – shut down the internet, NO site is going to top this one (needs sound)
1700 Guests arrive at Hotel / Greeted in foyer / Welcome nibbles, champagne, beer, wine served
1702 Was that Stu Wilson pan handling outside?
1723 Fuck this, is there any scotch?
1724 Doug Howlett cut off from further alcohol
1755 Guests ushered to ballroom by nervous staff. That floor has only just been resurfaced, do you realise?
1800 Pre speech ‘energisers’ with Darren Shand
1804 First bread roll thrown
1805 Speech: “Reminiscing – bonded brothers bleeding on the battlefield” with Anton Oliver
1807 First fork thrown
2030 Speech: “I was wrong, very wrong, where I went wrong, Oh how I loathe the very ground I walk on everyday” – self flagellation and spiritual cleansing session with top referee Wayne Barnes
2200 Jordan Luck takes the stage
2218 Aaron Mauger’s wife injured while loitering in Jordan Luck’s path to the lavatory
2245 Is that stores? Get me another case of Johnny Walker, NOW! What? Get down to LiquorLand in a cab, then! For the love of god..
2305 You’re me best mate. You fucker.
0012 Searching for a cab, racked with sobs
– Sebastian Chabal steals a dog’s lunch – magic. Why is the dog called ‘Springboks’ though?
– Golf has a new hero – check out Woody Austin as he bends his putter on his head in frustration. I’ve done that with a keyboard a few times, alright. Bonus – Woody Austin falls in the water. Nice one, bruv
– Top 50 football kits – I want one of them Dukla Prague kits and all
– Matt le Tissier free kick – cool as you like
If you’ve not actually moved from the couch since final whistle, and are starting to contemplate brightening up your pit of despair with a fridge, toaster, and large plastic tub to catch the dribble, then here’s all the interweb action you’ve missed
– Stephen Jones responds to readers letters – Jaysus. Stephen Jones is either the bastard child of Margret Thatcher and a dashing young Clive Woodward, or John Clarke’s greatest ever creation
– NZ’s own Jed Thian writes in the Guardian (the GUARDIAN!) on the pain – heh, yes the poms at work had a field day on Monday. Nice croissants, though
– Inky on his primal response to Sunday’s loss, ie going out and getting covered in blood and guts. I’ve only just started reading Inky, the archives are highly recommended
– Public Address System gets it out of their system – Following Russell Brown’s thoughtful post, there’s a mammoth thread really worth reading, and watch the youtube vid of the Paris Rugby ball..
“First off, I hope I run into number one Graham Henry fanboy Dan from accounts in the car park, I wanna get stuck into him about the rotation thing” said Hopping. “Then, I’ll make coffee really slowly in the kitchen just to pick the sales team off with a few ‘I told you so’s’. I’ll get straight on the email after that, I can cover a lot of ground fairly quickly that way”.
Hopping has maintained the All Blacks would fail to break the 20 year World Cup hoodoo since 2004. “I was packing myself after the Lions tour, we were looking pretty sharp for a while there. I’m rapt everyone’s dreams are shattered now”.
The water dispenser or the photocopier were both candidates for morning tea from 10.45 to 11.00am. “At the water dispenser, people would have to listen to me for, I’m guessing, about 30 seconds on average. I can’t get that kind of time at the printer, unless there’s a paper jam. That could buy me a good couple of minutes. I’ll just have to make that call on the day”.
‘Heads will roll’, ‘Gutless wonders’, ‘It’s ’99 all over again’, along with strangled choking noises will form the basis of Hopping’s Monday morning arsenal. “So many people are wrong, and I’m right. Monday’s going to be the best day ever. I hope no-ones away sick, but I ‘spose I could clean them up Tuesday or Wednesday”.
Lunchtime would signal the peak of Hopping’s cavalcade of vindication – “I’m going to get a phone card and give Millsy a bell on his mobile, he’ll be just getting off a plane in Paris. Hopefully he hasn’t heard, and I can break it to him myself, that’d be the icing on the cake. Isn’t it great to be alive”?