Australian Open
I thoroughly enjoyed this year’s Australian Open. The January evening matches are perfect for us Kiwis to loll around in front of with a beer and full stomach, in the heat. The top four men making the semi finals meant the ‘epic-ometer’ was going off, and the cringe-inducing Aussie commentry team had to draw even deeper from the hyperbole well than ever.

Andy Murray must be kicking himself very hard indeed – Djokovic looked like he was going cold turkey on a 3 year heroin habit midway through their semi final, but still managed to deny the Scot. Murray must be slowly coming to terms with the prospect that nothing good is likely to happen for him, tennis-wise, ever. Federer had moments in his semi final when he looked like he’d ballet-step all the way to collect the trophy, but he just can’t sustain it over a whole match these days. He’s still obviously the best at hitting a tennis ball in the game, but he’s no longer the best at winning tennis matches.

The final, however, was more gripping and harrowing (not to mention longer) than a ‘watch the Downton Abbey box set and Christmas special’ party. Nadal is still a class act, but Djokovic is my favourite. From his wild eyes, to his stumbling exhaustion, to his scarily-competitive-looking girlfriend and the guy in his entourage who wears sunglasses at night, he has it all. The Serb is a champion I can get behind.

Links: here’s an incredible ball boy catch and the fantastic In Focus photo blog covering the tournament.

Nelsen to Spurs
Somehow, we have the All Whites’ captain now, making Tottenham the most popular club in New Zealand right now, and the most likely to be turned on when ‘Arry plays international window injury funny business. To celebrate, and amuse NZ’s most popular spurs fans on Twitter @sportzfreak and @Chris_Brain, I got Ryan into some famous Spurs moments.

Update – there’s more on this transfer window genius at Sportsfreak, along with some really crappy Photo shop work.

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.

There’s no question Socrates Brasileiro Sampaio de Souza Vieira de Oliveira was one of the *coolest* footballers ever to stroll onto a pitch. He died at the weekend, and being Brazilian, a thinker and a drinker, he’s right up the Guardian’s alley. They pushed the boat out to play tribute to the great man, with Richard Williams chipping in, exhaustive-world-cup-chronicler Brian Glanville writing the obituary and Gavin McOwen’s yarn about getting on the razz with him. There’s also a photo gallery.

Kiwis will remember this, a match from ‘our’ 1982 world cup. The blaring horns, the Tango ball, the overly colourised grainy footage, and those wonderful Brazilians (from when Brazil really were Brazil) that cheerfully humiliated the All Whites and Scotland, before going out to Italy. Socrates scored though – he even appears to run. Sorry Graeme!

One more goal.

Turns out other stuff has been happening that’s not rugby world cup related. Here’s a quick run down.

Sportsfreak has a petition going to keep domestic cricket on Radio Sport over the summer. It is your duty to support this fine initiative – one day, you’re not going to be able to put off painting that deck any longer. Do YOU want to listen to Des from Whanganui’s stream of conciousness talkback on why we should have lost the RWC while you do it? I farkin’ don’t. Support cricket, sign up.

“But don’t the writers write to the level of the fans? “Sports fans here are pretty well informed. I think they would appreciate a greater sense of journey being brought to describing sports events. They don’t start at two o’clock at kick-off. They start days beforehand.” – Tim Wilson on NZ sport writing via Quote Unquote

Long read from Wired about the new America’s Cup catamarans, and testing them on the Hauraki Gulf. Looks like the next regatta will be the yachting equivalent of playing T20 cricket on crystal meth, inside a Ferrari driven at high speed. Masochistically, I’ll kind of miss the maddeningly-slow tension build up, Dennis Conner and the lawyers.

The Premiership has gone goal crazy, with freak results every weekend – it’s going to be a great year, I look forward to Man City pulling off a Newcastle style collapse and Alex Fergusson finally exploding from stress, they look to be the obvious highlights. Meanwhile, seven Tottenham wins on the trot. I like it.

Shark pool!

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?

Totally wasted guy walks home. As awesome as it sounds.

If I was a suave Inter Milan supporting golfer, I’d totally wear these Nike Inter Milan Lunar Control Golf Shoes. I mean – LUNAR CONTROL? Who could resist?

Check this out for a sweet dismount – get in the hole!

ESPN sportsguy Bill Simmons has launched Grantland, his new sports writing site, featuring usual suspect Chuck Klosterman, among others. Would be handier with an RSS feed though.

So. Sport and that. Have to say, actual sport to watch has been a little thin on the ground with the Super 15 at a sedative point of the competition and the Black Caps being on the world’s longest holiday. Still, we DID get another classic piece of Alex Ferguson media relations to enjoy this week – I reckon he gets Darth Vader to help him brush up on press conference technique. Sunday morning’s Champions League final (at a very civilised time, NZers!) could be a classic, or it could be a classic ‘cancel each other out’. Be grateful though, the alternative final could have been Real Madrid v Chelsea, in what would have been the nastiest match since Oscar the Grouch took on Judith Collins at cage fighting. I predict 1-0 to Barca, with Messi nutmegging Ryan Giggs, tweeting about it, dribbling through the defence three times before smacking it into the net off Fergie’s face. Looking forward to it.

The big story in Rugby has been Dan Carter and Richie McCaw signing back up with NZ for four more years. The NZRFU is all about flexible contracts these days, with sabbaticals, casual Fridays and god knows what else on the menu. sportreview’s admiration for Richie McCaw went up about tenfold when he decided to re-sign at his local rugby club, doing the presser from a bar leaner.

Where would one expect the captain of one of the world’s most successful sporting teams to make such a momentous announcement?

Parliament Buildings for the ubiquitous prime ministerial photo opportunity? A swank golfing resort? The red-carpeted lobby of some five-star hotel (though there aren’t many of those left in Christchurch)?

Nope. Richie McCaw – who hails from a family farm in the Hakataramea Valley but a proud Cantabrian now – opted instead for his local footy club.

The only way he could have done it in a more Kiwi fashion is if he’d done a yard class and spewed $5 of chips on a TV camera. On ya. Now, the focus turns to Sonny Bill signing up – the big issue seems to be letting him smash people over in-between matches. Considering how comfortable the NZRFU have been with All Blacks smashing people over in bars in the past, I reckon the deal is as good as done.

On Wednesday night, I tuned in to watch the State Of Origin. I was a big fan in the 90s – Graham Lowe, Alfie Langer masks, Cockroaches, big Mark Geyer, big Marty Bella, state against state, mate against that guy that shat in that hotel corridor, big men sorting their differences out with their fists and each other’s faces. Fantastic stuff. But my GOD, I caught about 15 minutes of the build-up to Origin One (as everyone INSISTS you call it), and was convinced Australia was about to collectively disappear up it’s own arse so far that they’d somehow disappear and pop out as a nation somewhere on the Afghanistan / Pakistan boarder and be forced to make a new life for themselves without all the sharks and minerals and that. It was that over the top – interviews with the player’s families in the crowd, Phil Gould wandering beneath the goalposts looking like he was trying to find his way out of the stadium after a messy corporate function three weeks previous. Have to confess, I watched about half an hour of the match and went to bed. Some things are just more important than sport.

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

The Black Caps’ win over Pakistan has catapulted us from tournament also rans to the tournament’s Toxic Avengers. Ross ‘Rose’ Taylor celebrated his birthday by spending 30 overs looking more lost than Tony Grieg at a ‘knowing what the fuck you’re going on about’ conference, before launching into the Pakistan attack like it was his laptop during a heavy ‘tweeting’ session, and celebrating in the traditional manner.

In fact, if we grasp at straws hard enough and link Taylor’s innings and Irish legend Kevin O’Brien’s knock against England, we can call this the ‘berserker’ tactic. The equivalent of rugby’s ’99′ call, berserker use in cricket is a huge opportunity, and we could see soon teams sending their 12th man sprinting on with a bat in each hand to threaten the fielding side, in a move sure to be labelled the ‘Bracewell’.

The berserker – the future of cricket, or Graeme Smith relaxing in his hotel post-match?

Of course, after Pakistan’s Akmal let a golden Taylor chance go gleefully between himself and first slip, before clearing up any lingering doubt about his suitability to be an international ‘keeper by dropping Taylor all by himself, Some People On The Internet claimed ‘match fixing’. sportreview.net.nz can exclusively reveal the only ‘fixing’ of the tournament so far occurred when the Black Caps played Zimbabwe and everyone had their bollocks chopped off.

But these are early days in this 18 month long tournament, and we’re yet to see a clear favorite emerge. England have been the entertainers so far, losing to Ireland, tying with India, and facilitating a South African choke. You know that when you’re among Englishmen behaving weirdly and South Africans choking, you’re not in a Brixton nightclub but a cricket world cup, team.

Predictions at this stage: Vettori to struggle on manfully despite losing one or more limbs in the Sri Lanka match; Kyle Mills to put his hand up for berserker role, claiming he’s been doing it for years already; England to default match against West Indies, missing the toss and circling the ground in a double decker bus instead while blasting the Benny Hill show theme; and sportreview.net.nz to start watching a cricket world cup match and managing to stay up past the tenth over, in the prediction least likely to occur. Of course, in other sporting news: