Rugby World Cup
As a nation, New Zealand did the vacuuming, put the sausage rolls in the oven and hosted the rugby world simply and well, despite the haters and grandstanding, which became less and less important as we went. As for the rugby – well, we bloody won it, didn’t we? Two months on, you only have to show me Graham Henry’s post-final-win-eyebrow gymnastics or Richie McCaw being eye-gouged and I’m glowing like those folk in Cocoon.

Beating the Aussies
After a world cup (remember that) where we did our lose-in-the-semi thing, That First Win In Australia Since Ever was an epic of fingernails on the floor. It was hard to know what kind of NZ cricket team we had post-captaincy switch (alright, it’s ALWAYS hard to know what kind of team we have), but the Tasmanian fightback showed we had some real heart – and hope for the future. Bring on the South Africans.

Super Tottenham
I haven’t mentioned them much on the site, for fear of jinxing them. After missing out narrowly last time, Spurs are quietly having a brilliant season and look very much at home in the top four. Ask me more about how it’s going after we beat Chelsea this morning.

Le Tour
One of the best and worst I’ve seen – worst because of the first week crashes that took Wiggins et al out – best because of the slow burning drama and eventual, worthy winner. Cadel deserved his win for the way he rode, and the way he’s ridden over the last few years. He won’t do it again though, and I hope for a few more fireworks next year. It’s been a fantastic year for NZ’s cyclists also, the folding of Pure Black Racing aside – hoping for a big medal haul on the track in London next year too.

Man of the year
Well, who do you reckon? Stephen Donald is a bigger folk hero than Bob Dylan, his journey from whitebaiting to world cup winner was more beautiful than an unattended burger restaurant. The whole country got the Beaver fever and I couldn’t have been more pleased. Here he is resting on the beach or my little tribute.

sportreview.net.nz highlights
A new daughter, other family stuff and employment related madness meant I’ve not been able to give as much care and attention to the site as I’d like – but I’m still proud of how it’s gone this year. I’ve done some of my favourite rugby writing ever on the back of the world cup, with the brouhaha over the jerseys beforehand, and the nervousness against Argentina, beating Australia in the semi, the final the highlights for me. Drinking was a reoccurring theme over the year, with the All Black selectors getting drunk and this little number about alcohol abuse in the north of England.

Twitter, obviously, is where all the former sports bloggers are hanging out these days – and most of the athletes. It’s possible to go from abusing someone on the field to abusing them on the internet in no time nowadays. Two twitter related posts: for the cricket and for the rugby. I love Powerpoint (even thought it was a slow year for sportreview cartoons) and loved this.

Of course, most thanks go to you, mysterious readers. This site is obviously a little labour of love, I do it for no other reason than I enjoy it thoroughly. sportreview.net.nz is the kind of crappy NZ sports blog I would like to read if this one didn’t exit – it’s extremely heartening to know others enjoy it too. Thanks, appreciate it.

Other stuff:

My top five listened to songs, from last.fm:
1. Harry Nilsson – Lullaby In Ragtime
2. Robyn – Dancing On My Own
3. Robyn – Indestructible
4. Joni Mitchell – Car on a Hill
4. Harry Nilsson – Always

I’ve done bugger-all film watching or reading this year. Drive was the best (only?) (current) film I saw at the cinema, and I’m working my way through Peter Guralnick’s Elvis Bios. TV wise, I’ve really got into Game Of Thrones, Breaking Bad and Community. I’ve also thoroughly enjoyed the Discourse NZ podcast. All recommended.

Wishing you a happy and more settled 2012 – see you next year!

 Photos:

Me and Dan. I told him how gutted I was for him, but also how stoked I was for Stephen Donald.

Best rugby ground in NZ, still. Tremendous atmosphere for all three matches I went to there.

Eden Park felt like a proper international stadium during the RWC. Let’s hope they keep those temporary stands somewhere handy.

Future Tour de France champ.

Fast forward to when I was living in Dublin in 2000, and trying to figure out how to get to work – it was time to buy another bike, and after whizzing down the road, hopping on and off the pavement, unconstrained by buses timetables, routes or stopping at red lights, I felt like a kid again. And I haven’t been off a bike since.

Bike Snob is, mainly, about that feeling of being a little kid again. While the acerbic cycling blog Bike Snob NYC that gave birth to this book takes down the hip, pretentious or altogether too serious aspects of cycling in hilarious fashion with razor sharp observation and wit, Bike Snob the book is a more gentle meander.

Bike Snob wants you to ride your bike, and tries to evoke some of the obvious joy he takes in riding, explaining the benefits, mentally as well as physically, and gives a little history as well. He debunks a few of the myths surrounding cycling as well, like riding in traffic, bike fitting and maintenace. Essentially, riding a bike is a pretty simple activity / pastime / sport / whatever – Bike Snob wants to see you get out there and enjoy it for yourself, making a compelling argument that the world would be a better place if more people rode bikes.

There’s a few hipster take downs chucked in for for fans of the blog, as well as a hilarious section on cycling sub-cultures and how they get along (or not), and the whole book is illustrated with some fantastic drawings. There’s even some Bike Snob stickers for your fixie.  Highly recommended.

Get it postage free from Book Depository.

Here’s a great example of a hipster take down from BSNYC.

Hayden Roulston finished tenth in the Paris Roubaix, the Queen of the Classics race that takes in long sections of rough cobbles. Here he is is in action, and here’s a write up form his blog. It’s a tremendous result in the hardest one day race going, and heaps better than last year.

DeadBall, who are kinda back but kinda not, have an extensive Dan Vettori interview. Interestingly, he’s read Moneyball twice.

Michael Lewis is one of the smartest writers around, and he brings this world of number crunching and hours alone with Excel to life. This book caused a storm in Baseball with theories that flew in the face of what ‘traditional baseball guys’ valued. It would be fascinating to see this approach applied to Cricket, another sport that lends itself to statistical obsession.

Recommended.

Michael Lewis article on Moneyball in Basketball (NY Times).

Mostly, there’s too much Cricket in Cricket books – if we wanted to read a match report, we’d dial up CricInfo, you know. JRod skillfully runs through each test session by session, but throws in just enough jokes, offensive language and base innuendo to make it compelling reading.

On the NPower promotional girls: “Guys trying to pick up promotional girls is about the saddest thing you can see, like Hotel Rwanda followed by a news report on buring puppies.”

On ‘Random’ Rudi Koertzen: “Sometimes I think  he gives himself extra time by raising his finger slowly just so he can surprise himself.”

For me, the book’s peak is around the Lord’s test, from the scene from the press box, to almost killing Richie Benaud using Swine Flu, to a hilarious conversation between Rudi Koertzen and Billy Bowden (Are you sure, or do we need to go upstairs, Billy? There are no stairs here, Rudi.), to the most sublime writing about mass vomit since Stand By Me.

It’s also the story of HIS Ashes, his first in England as a writer; what the series means to him, his impending wedding and going to the Oval with his family – this backstory makes the book richer, without getting all Nick Hornby about it.

It’s well documented that JRod’s mission to turn himself into a Proper Cricket Writer from a standing start impresses the fuck out of me – WFBJ is a big step up from his first book. Buy a copy now, so you can bore your kids about him when he’s editing Wisden or sticking his keys in a pitch on the telly. Highly recommended.

Jarrod is well on his way to achieving his goal of being a Proper Cricket Writer. Obviously he’s writing about Cricket now, and bringing more filthy language and sex to the old game than an Ian Botham trip around the West Indies, but the thing I admire (as I’ve covered before) is that he’s fucking out there doing it. He’s moved halfway around the world to live in London, covered the Ashes from the couch, the grounds and the press box in fine style on the site, and he now has book on Amazon only a couple of months after stumps were drawn.

That’s good going. Here’s an excerpt. The Black Caps’ favorite blogger and premature retiree Ian O’Brien even gets to write a bit. You should really buy one.

Here he is, aged 12, making a very nasty tackle, and here he is methodically settling a grudge that burned like deep heat in his undies for. Never mind starting an argument in an empty house, Keano can do it in the sanctum of the player’s tunnel.

Even as a manager, he’s an angry man, but I’m sure he’d know when to put an arm around a player.

For further Keano reading, here’s an amazing interview with Tom Humphries, who also covers Keane in his fantastic book Laptop Dancing Nanny Goat Mambo. Recommended.

“Indeed, few sights are more odious on the golf course than a sauntering, beered-up foursome obviously having a good time. Some golfers, we are told, enjoy the landscape; but properly the landscape shrivels and compresses into the grim, surrealistically vivid patch of grass directly under the golfer’s eyes as he morosely walks toward where he thinks his ball might be.”

Essay excerpt.

Luckily, blogging-wise, I’ve really enjoyed it. Getting a cartoon in the paper was nice (another one soon!). I liked this one. And this one. This wasn’t a good idea.I loved making up news stories.

In 2008, I really need to get my shit together with a proper domain (keep your eye on sportreview.net.nz) and WordPress, particularly before sportreview jr. comes along.

Here’s my best for 2007.

Sporting moment
Hard one. A couple of America’s Cup races were pretty amazing. I’m too childish to nominate Fiji v South Africa. Oher than a few Berbatov goals, it’s looking pretty bleak. I’m going for Luaki handing off Richie McCaw – it’s been that kind of year.

Web
Guardian Unlimited (football and sport) remain my go-tos for sport news, writing, and youtube clips. Locally, the Dropkicks podcast is the best in NZ sport on the web. I love the communities springing up at Sportsfreak and The Silver Fern – I wish I had more time to participate. I joined Facebook, and found it great for finding the long lost, but kind of annoying otherwise. I discovered last.fm. I really enjoy Public Address and Jason Kottke, still.

Links on Friday
- Richie Benaud on the underarm
- Zombie vs Shark
- Never poke a big cat with a stick
- Full Metal Wii
- The Mack vs the Nuge

Albums
Person Pitch – Panda Bear (thanks, Fraser), Happy Ending – Phoenix Foundation, Sound of Silver – LCD Soundsystem

Book
The Yiddish Policeman’s Union – Micheal Chabon

Films
Superbad, The Devil Dared Me To, Hot Fuzz

Top three songs on last .fm
Ramble Tamble – Creedence
Fourtunate Son – Creedence
Sleepwalk – Santo & Johnny

“Aaaaaaaaah now let’s see… Adminstrators… Aaaaah What a bunch of dickheads… No no no can’t say that… but gees what is it with those guys? Do they take dumb pills or what? No no no hang on… Start Now… OK… OK… A national sporting league is only as good, strong and effective as its adminstration… That’s good, that’s good… Aaaaaaah…”

Dybvig gets into Radio and eventually joins Sky in its early days alongside a young Stephen McIvor*, “who could laugh his chops off at a scripted joke and later ask you what it meant”. He was on the fledgling NZ ‘celebrity’ circuit alongside luminaries like Belinda Todd, Willy De Wit, and Glenda Hughes – a very boozy scene by the sound, especially one piss marathon that lurches from the pub to boats to the golf course in the aid of Ronald McDonald House.

TV3 is next, and Dybvig works on Kid’s TV, Horse Racing ‘colour’, and the short lived local Pro-Wrestling show, where the bad guys were pelted on their way to the ring with plastic drink bottles by rioting pre-teens. There’s no end to the book, really, he just kinds of drifts off into TV land, but it’s a fascinating view into the world of local TV and how small time it can be behind the scenes.

My copy came pre-signed by the man himself (“Happy reading, Cheers!”). I met him one time, I was arranging voice overs on an 0800 ad for (ahem) Bacon Magic. Dybvig was huge, but more subdued than I expected (or hoped). He loved infomercials, and told me his golf buddies all wore BluBlockers. He did his shouty voice as you’d expect, and it was class.

If you like this, try Technical Foul (Basketball’s Bad Boy Talks Back!), the story of his coaching career featuring the dreariness of life in NZ in the 80s.

“Buying anything in New Zealand is an exercise in 30 second politeness. It goes something like this:

Customer: I’ll have a dozen eggs, thanks.

Store clerk: Thank you.

Customer: Could I have pack of cigarettes too thank you.

Store clerk: Thank you.

Customer: Thank you.

Store clerk: That’ll be $2.35 thank you.

Customer: (Hands over money) Thanks.”

You get the idea. Dybvig has popped up on a few things since like Hercules, Xena, and even King Kong, and according to his website he’s written another book and is attempting to reinvent himself as Bill Bryson. I’m definitely tracking that one down.

*What is it with that guy – it’s like watching Rugby League with Elton John. Fair play that he showed up to get his face smashed in at the Fight for Life, but I guarentee all usually peace loving people were thinking “Punching Stephen McIvor really looks like fun!”.

Book Review : Hadlee Hits Out (1983)