2011 was the year you could say ‘it’s all happening’ and be right. Earthquakes. An election. A world cup. What didn’t happen? Here’s a quick round up.

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.

Some guy takes LSD and tries to recreate Doc Ellis’ rumoured actual-LSD -no-hitter on a video game. Doc Ellis himself explains.

Subbuteo! It’s alive and kicking and is more than life or death to nerds everywhere – watch this guy win the Subbuteo world cup, then go all mental. Stick that up your XBox.

We’re smoking! Go easy to Paris! Wise words from Jens, via the Dropkicks.

Kenny Powers, K-Swiss CEO is farkin’ hilarious and a great example of viral sports-orientated marketing.

After week one’s crashes and withdrawals (including sportreview.net.nz fav Bradley Wiggins), it’s a wonder there was any lycra or cyclists left to get up all those hills. Poor old Johnny Hooglerland’s arse was all over the globe’s tellys after this appalling bit of driving. His polka dot jersey and continued presence in the race is a reminder of how hard tour riders are and how much this race means to them.

My rider of the tour so far has been Thor Hushovd, the World Champion who took yellow after the team time trial, held on to it for a few days as well as dragging his big sprinters’ frame over two mountain stages to take line honours. Super stuff.

Getting into the Pyrenees, Richard Williams wondered where the attacks were – the GC leaders were marking each other into oblivion and not pinning their ears back to make the death-or-glory breaks. Andy Schelck was even nicknamed ‘stiff neck’ by French press for endlessly riding while looking back at his rivals. He must have been reading – his 60KM solo attack in this morning’s 18th stage was the moment of the tour so far. Bizarrely, Eddy Merckx himself appeared in a car, sticking his head out the sunroof like R2D2 to give the cannibal seal of approval to the attack. Little Aussie bleeder Cadel Evans was left to slog up the hill by himself, dragging the other GC contenders up behind him like naughty children.

And so it comes down to the last hill climb, the time trial, and the Champs Elysée. New Zealand fans can cranks the MySky and get up for what should be some compelling stuff. Tomorrow morning’s stage is the Alp D’Huez, the Tour’s equivalent of T20 cricket – let’s see if Evans and A. Schleck have anything left after their long rides today.

Who’s going to win? I’m with BikeSnob, and would like the fairytale, please. Voeckler, who would be the first winner to spend race time in someone’s car port, or Evans. It will probably be a Schleck. Any way it winds up, this has been a dramatic tour.

Tour de France is perhaps the most tweeted sporting event going – here’s who’s worth following.

Selected cyclists:
Fabien Cancerella Classy, as you’d expect

George Hincapie No nonsense, as you’d expect

Jens Voigt has only just signed up, but is giving Charlie Sheen a run for his money in terms of followers

Mark Cavendish generally tries to live up to his ‘maverick’ reputation on his HTC approved tweeting device

David Milllar @MillarMind is his handle, interesting tweets from an interesting rider

Andy Schleck See Millar’s description above, only substitute ‘boring’ for ‘interesting’

Cadel Evans – the little Aussie bleeder

Support

Team Leopard Trek Seem to have an actual planned approach to social media – dong it right

Johan Bruyneel ex-Lance Armstrong, now Radio Shack Team Director

Parody, etc

Fake Floyd Landis

Graymanrod This may be the actual Floyd Landis

UCI_Overlord

TDF Lanterne loving tribute to le tour’s last placed rider

Other reading

Time magazine looks at Twitter on the tour

Jens Voigt’s blog – really worth reading, hilarious and revealing

Bike Snob NYC Tour De France – the cycle-blog master at work

Paul Kimmage interviews Floyd Landis

If you’re a 38 year old unfit would-be footballer, and you ever get a chance to take a penalty at indoor or seven-a-side football, you are duty bound to perform a Panenka. Here are ten of the best, number one is my favorite

Turns our Floyd Landis of the Floyd Fairness Fund has not only turned into the Bear Queen Of The Forest (see image in the story) but is trolling Lance Armstrong on Twitter. The rotter

The seven annoying friends you meet at pub quizzes. I am none of these. I am basically the perfect person to have in a pub quiz team

Hot New Video Game Consists Solely Of Shooting People Point-Blank In The Face

Why is U2 so popular?

Rapha Rides the Victorian Alps from RAPHA on Vimeo.

Take eight minutes to watch the story of Taupo’s Jed Milton landing the world’s first triple backflip on a BMX – fair play to him and his team for the planning, practise and production that went into the jump, and the Taupo District Council for letting him do it in a public park. Here’s a clip of just the jump.

Lionel Messi gets the New York Times treatment. Wish Maradonna had read this.

Meanwhile, the New Yorker says let’s wait until Lance is proven guilty; from the same author, a long 2002 profile.

As a father of two under-three Waikato fans born on the North Shore, I know the importance of giving the offspring absolutely no choice in which team they support.

A 13 year old scores his own version of my favourite goal ever.

I imagine watching this FIFA 2011 own goal would be a similar experience to watching the Titanic sink

If you think Two Pricks At The Ashes means Ricky and Shane, then check out The Chuck Fleetwood-Smiths. It’s the latest roll of the dice from JRod and Sam, featuring the level of rapier sharp cricketing analysis you’d expect from the last two survivors on a lifeboat after they’ve eaten everyone else

BikesnobNYC’s visit to the Bike Expo is worth a read, if only to laugh at the guy selling butt cream

Age hasn’t made Gary Neville any less angry

In the last two weeks, while sportreview.net.nz has had its cyber thumb wedged firmly in its virtual arse, we’ve had a World Cup final, dramatic scenes on bikes in the French Alps and the Pyrenees and the All Blacks have treated the Springboks like Frodo treated the Cuba Street fountains.

Like the 1995 All Blacks, who made the tragic mistake of going to a dodgy seafood restaurant the night before their South African final and contracting mass food poisoning in the process, Holland made the tragic mistake of going to see the Karate Kid remake and contracting a bad case of Wanting To Kick The Shit Out Of Everything Syndrome. WTKTSOOES severely reduces your ability to play football, and your ability to think clearly – Mark Van Bommell was found ten minutes before kick off attempting to Kick The Shit Out Of a soft drink vending machine in the players’ tunnel, while Wes Sneijder wanted to Kick The Shit Out Of himself, and it took several men to pull him off himself.

Arjen Robben is so crippled by Wanting To Kick The Shit Out Of Everything Syndrome, he is still on the pitch at Soccer City trying to decide between kicking the shit out of Nelson Mandela or a puppy.

Meanwhile, Spain’s tactical approach was kind of like inviting the girl of your dreams on a date to play Spirograph – sure, you’re going to make a lot of pretty patterns, but you’re not doing your chances of scoring any favors.

Looking back, this World Cup will be remembered as one of the most football-free World Cups ever. Between the vuvuzelas, the ball dodgier than a three week old boiled egg and the fucking octopus, there wasn’t a lot of *actual* kick-ball-score-goal-football to talk about. All the big European stars looked like they’d rather be in Ibiza or Hello Magazine and couldn’t wait to get the first plane out of the biggest sporting event they’ll likely play in. At least the French had the style to flounce the fuck out of Dodge with a bit of flair. As Sione Lauaki says about the days he could beat people up without ending up in the paper, things aren’t what they used to be. Roll on the blooming Champions League already.

Back home, the All Blacks provided one of the biggest sporting surprises since the Dean Lonergan’s apparent absence of permanent brain damage by beating the World Champion Springboks not once but twice. The results shook people who make their living by thinking of things to say on telly for the half hour before test matches start to the core, and has seen a complete 180 degree re-alignment of the games’ top two powerhouses. With two defeats first up, South Africa fine themselves in a situation stickier than Shane Jones’ iPad. The All Blacks now have ‘bragging rights’ which, in the modern era, takes place mainly on social networking sites:

The All Blacks’ decision to employ online coaches (Conrad Smith appears at 44 seconds) to maximise their ‘bragging rights’ has been hailed as genius, and is sparking talk the All Blacks could go fully viral in time for the 2001 cup. There hasn’t been this much All Black noise online since Grizz Wylie had too much scotch at his Marlborough crib and made an anonymous reverse charges abusive toll call to John Hart in the summer of 1994. Meanwhile, the Australians, already regarded as outsiders for this year’s Tri-Nations, have no ‘bragging rights’ whatsoever, nor ‘skillz’ or ‘cred’ ‘online’ and are playing ‘catch-up tweeting’ before clearing a single nostril on the field:

In Europe, the Tour De France has had cobbles, slick roads, crashes and more dastardly moves than Winston Peters sorting out his minibar bill. People everywhere are talking about Alberto Contdor’s sneaky maneuver around Andy Schleck while his chain was half way down the mountain, a move that went completely against the unwritten rules of the sport. Sport is full of unwritten rules, as outlined below:

Tennis – at Wimbledon, don’t look Cliff Richard in the eye. Just keep walking, bro Rugby League – NSW players only shit in Queensland hotel corridors, and vice versa Lawn bowls – throwing bowls at the ref is frowned upon, generally American Football – players must whoop at least 33 times for each completed first down Knitting – I see that Maureen bitch brought that yappy fucking dog again Netball – no elbows above the neckline

Luckily for cycling fans everywhere, there’s always Jens Voigt, who manfully took one for the team by falling off his bike. A Jens Voigt faceplant from his bicycle brings the sporting world together like only an Australian cricket test series defeat or Colin Montgomerie looking cross can. Voigt’s selfless act, and determination to cycle to Paris like a callous circus freakshow, dragging his useless, useless legs behind him has warmed the hearts of sports fans everywhere. Vive le Tour!