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Everyone loves Top Gear - but are they cool? Really?
“Zombies cannot run - so if you see a person running at you, it’s not a zombie. DON’T shoot him. Give him a high-five.” “You’re blocking one of your own guys out there!” “He doesn’t matter, my safety is more important than his.” This is all invaluable zombie-infestation survival advice, team.
Here’s how to make a single speed hipster bike.
Do I not like that - insane, foul mouthed England football coach doco.
I never really warmed to Robbie Keane - I always suspected he’d be crap at Kareoke. He’s no Chris n Glen, put it that way. He’s not even a Gazza
More Tour De France pictures? OK
Will Ferrell accepts Tiger’s ESPY. I’ve already written my ‘half-arse blogger of the year’ award speech ready, you know. Just in case, like
If you get telemarketing calls, you should do this
If you’re not drunk and sleepy after the Rugby, team, stay up to watch Le Tour’s final time trial - it’s all going to be sorted out then. Meanwhile, spare a thought for this poor bugger.
Every football team will be playing football in various combinations. More Mitchell and Webb.
Political types - check out what actual fishermen thought of John Key’s Gone Fishin’ appearance. FYI John (if you’re reading), no-one wears brand new Auckland Blues jerseys to go fishing, or brand new All Blacks sweatshirts apres fish. Those were dead giveaways.
Pulp Sport’s Bill and Ben invent Crugby. I imagine Lance Cairns would be good at this. And Jerry Collins.
It’s Man U v Chelsea in extra time of the Champions League final. Some people drank to settle their nerves. Some couldn’t watch. This Chelsea fan decided a very public Sherman Tank was the way to go. Full credit: Haydn Dropkick
I just know I’m the last person on the internets to link to this. I just really, really love swearing, though.
As a new parent, this caught my eye. I’m thinking numbers 7 and 11.
London. It’s fantastic, and it’s holding the Olympics after China - but surely that crap mascot can be improved?
The BBC’s John Motson is yer archetypal statto / sheepskin coat-clad football commentator - but he’s still got a potty mouth
Some footballer scores - only to have it saved by the world’s bandiest-legged doctor guy. He’s not happy
Some mountain bike buy gets fully rad over the Tour De France
Can Piswiddle win the ashes? - Mitchell and Webb cricketing stupidity ahoy
Some guy wandering around booting footballs into places he shouldn’t, brilliantly.
Little Gary Neville takes life awfully seriously - here he is refusing to shake hands with old mate Peter Schmichael, who went to play for the other guys. He doesn’t look too bothered, though.
Photoshop comp - Unpopular movie-based video games. Har.
Some tennis guy kills a pigeon. Turns out one of the players is part of the scientologists’ avian wing. Bet he wishes he had Tom Cruise’s number now.
From their mad-eyebrowed coach to Tierry Henry, France were crapper than sandpaper undies at Euro 2008. Even their coach driver was woeful.
Here’s a great list of 100 things to love about sport. Baz McCullum gets a mention, but they’re awfully rude about the All Blacks. Strangely, hearing “Why does love do this to me” at 110db at a Rugby match isn’t there - must be #101?
Those American elections go on a bit, eh? This is much better.
Britain’s David Miller biffs his bike. I’ll probably do this to a keyboard at some point today
Sweet own goal - that would hurt in *two* ways
Everyone loves 70s Aussie Rules brawls, and that goes double when some flamin’ galah goes seppo and clocks a bloody ref - here’s not one but two
Heh - this guy takes pictures of his TV. Scroll down for the ‘Spaz’ one. He probably reads this site
Who doesn’t love own goals? Lee Dixon’s was number one with me for a long time, but now, there’s a new own goal sheriff in town - what a beauty. Fully THREE head in hands, and TWO knee sinks from the scorers’ team-mates. Magic
Soupy Norman is a dodgy Polish soap dubbed over by Irish comedians - yes, it’s that good
You want bacon? Then how about a Bacon Cheese Baconburger? Breakfast, lunch and dinner would be nice
Pure gold from Pulp Sport - Chris Martin (test average 2.55) brings you his Learn to Bat dvd. He’s just so serious.
Smug Shots is people, usually pissed, going up to footballers, usually in a bar or airport, and having their photo taken. That reminds me, I must dig out that photo of me with Glenn Osbourne.
Let’s face it - ten pin bowling isn’t cool, unless you’re The Dude. It’s all corporate team building and weird shoes smelling of watered down disinfectant and that. If I was going have a go, though, I’d be wanting to do something like this.
If you’re like me and spend all day in an office, you may enjoy Whack Your Boss. Disclaimer - I don’t want to whack MY boss. Annoy - yes. Whack - No.
Wellington’s cricket crowd looked like they had a great time @ the weekend - here’s the guy falling over, always the litmus test of a great day out. Check out the pissy look on the fall-ee.
Chris Waddle is a Spurs legend - and he’s still got it
Newspaper cartoons are cool - Peanuts, Calvin and Hobbes, Footrot Flats, etc. B3ta don’t think so, so they made them funny again - NSFW, some of it, and not for the taking offense brigade
Take the test (hat tip Audent)
So simple it’s brilliant. It’s American football, it’s Brett Favre going about his business wearing shoulder pads, and a fan steals the ball. There’s nothing left to say, really
The hilarious Stuff White People Like blog scores a big fat bull’s eye on the idea of soccer
Speaking of which, they say footballers are prone to gaming referees and try to gain unlawful advantage. This is, of course, completely untrue
Here’s 100 things never to say in a job interview. I’d probably ask if the stationary was locked up at night
In case you missed it, here’s Andrew Symonds’ shoulder charge. Legendary raisin Richie Benaud’s comment proves he’s STILL the master
It’s alright, I’ve found goal of the season already. Real Madrid’s horrible Arjen Robben thinks he’s scored and heads for the corner, unaware the goal’s been ruled out. Lowly Getafe take a quick free kick, and break away to score. Marvelous.
The Dropkicks showed a keen eye for esoteric stats during the Rugby World cup, so check out their Rugby wiki. Get involved, go write up your team before some bitter Highlanders fan does.
Heh - lower division football manager resigns, much to the laughter of his players.
Forumwarz is the whole internet in one site. Spookily accurate.
And we’ve got silverware again. It’s been a little while. Ramos has fully sorted out that beating the top four thing Jol struggled with so much. Spurs look creative, fit, and organised, and we’ll be in Europe again next year.
Gotta say, this trophy feels much better than the last one, the dour George Graham-inspired 1-0 over Leicester with a goal from the horrible Allan Nielson.
Welcome to the new pad, don’t worry ’bout taking your shoes off. I decided to get a little more serious about this, and have been pissing about with Wordpress and the like for the last month or so. Now it’s live I should have a little more time to actually write something. Anyway, here’s some links.
- Alan Shearer won’t be joining King Kev at Newcastle. Good, I reckon Shearer’s a dick, and everyone loves Kev, right? Here’s poor old Neil Lennon headbutting Shearer’s foot - he’s not so tough when Keano gets involved, though
- Sky Sport UK’s Jeff Stelling goes off on one defending Oop North. Magic
- Myself and Ms Sportreview have a little bundle of joy on the way - this parenting lark looks pretty easy, though eh
- A new white middle class complaint every day. We need a good war to sort this lot out, team
Spurs beat Arsenal 5-1 in the second leg of the Carling Cup (bite on that, Cactus Kate). Yeah, it was only Arsenal’s kids, and only the Carling Cup, but I’ll take it. Spurs had a similar hoodoo against Chelsea, and we broke that in the Carling Cup before beating them in the league, so it’s a good sign, I reckon. Thoughts:
- It’s good to move from the Jol unpleasantness. Ramos likes his teams to play fairly directly, and we hit them on the break for at least two goals. Nothing wrong with that, and we’re relying less on long punts from Robinson (who’s dropped now anyway, and was apparently skulking in the tunnel at final whistle). The players have been training very hard indeed from reports
- Jenas was on fire, and this win was less reliant on Berbatov magic. A good sign if he’s on his way, but I’d love to keep him, ‘cos he’s class
- The Guardian’s Fiver reports that Arsenal’s Adebayo thumped teammate Nicklas Bendtner, which is great, but points out Arsenal are still in the title race, Champion’s League, and FA Cup, whic is fair enough. Still some catching up to do, alright
- Reading reports from the UK that Glen Hoddle in the studio did a subtle fist pump when the 5th went in and said ‘another one’. No word on fellow pundit Paul Merson’s thoughts at the time - he probably lost a bundle
- Goals here - loved the camera shaking at 4-0, and the Gooners walking out
SRNZPA: Wellington resident John Soddentrouser dismissed the Phoenix fan club Yellow Fever as ‘johnny-come-latelies’, claiming to have supported the team since 1999. To Soddentrouser, following a football team that didn’t technically exist for many years is the mark of a true fan. “I was there home and away. Not my fault if they don’t play any games, is it? Where was everyone else? Lightweights.”
Soddentrouser, who lives alone, has thoroughly hated every second of the Phoenix’s debut season. Game day for him begins by drinking alone at a local Cosmopolitan Club, before arriving three hours early to be first in line for tickets. He reserves particular disdain for the merchandise stands, spluttering “I MADE MY OWN jersies. Made my own. There was no merchandise stand in my day. Shit.” Soddentrouser quietly seethes throughout the match, before leaving at half time to beat the traffic. “I don’t know why I bother, mate. “Where was this Yellow Fever shower in 2001? You wouldn’t catch those guys sitting alone in an empty stand for the afternoon like I did. They’re not real fans.”
The LA Galaxy match was the season’s low point for Soddentrouser. “Half of them couldn’t name a single Phoenix player - I was there when there were no players to name, mate. It’s just not the same anymore.” Soddentrouser announced he’d probably stop following the Phoenix at the end of the year and support the Nelson Backboards, a basketball team that would probably join an expanded Australian basketball league in “2013, maybe 2015.”
The Phoenix are made up of New Zealanders, Australians (including the Keano-like Aloisi), and BRAZILIANS no less, and lead by 1982’s Riki Herbert, who’s effortlessly gone from mullet and tight sorts to Casino Royale-style well cut suit. And they can play. Once the nerves had settled, and they’d gone two nil down and fluffed a penalty, they began to play, and started passing it around nicely. The Brazilian Daniel looks like a fine player when not writhing around on the grass, and Aloisi obviously brings great experience. Daniel and then Shane Smetlz headed goals, and we were really unlucky not to get the win, with a couple of fine chances they’ll bury later in the season.
It was really important to get a great start and bury those memories of the Kingz / Knights / whatever being flogged every week at Albany stadium. Riki Herbert really is the man, and his team are all set for a great season - Sunday afternoon on the couch just got really exciting.
- Spurs, spurs, spurs. You go out of interweb coverage for a week, and come back to this pile of shite. Tottenham are fast losing the ’sexy football’ rep, and consolidating the ’sexy shoot oneself in the foot’ one. The board is divided on the hugely popular Martin Jol, whose cheery unflappability looks more and more flappable by the week, and went to Portugal to try and lure Seville’s Juande Ramos two games into the season. It’s a typically Spurs dog’s breakfast, and when you’re in that situation, a trip to Man Utd the last thing you need. Surprisingly, we did alright, and conceded only the one 30 yard screamer, and got a dead cert penalty turned down - a typical Old Trafford result.
Dear Chelsea magazine -
My favourite colour is blue. I can’t wait for the football to start again, and when I’m big enough I want to play for Chelsea. I like playing football with my brother.
Darren, 6, Reading
Darren -
Blood. Let blood be your guide. When you have spent the off season waist deep in offal of indeterminate origin like Roman Abramovich, your thinking will be much, much clearer.
Roman
Dear Chelsea magazine -
I love Chelsea. When they win I run around in the garden yelling “Yes! Yes! Yes!” with all my might. I hope you win the Champions’ League this year. The other lads in my class mostly support Arsenal, but I love Chelsea FC!
Mike, 8, Richmond
Dear Mike -
Many, many years ago, a group of young Russians made a big mistake. They mocked a young man who was true of heart, whose only crime was the thick, matted hair covering his body no razor could tame. They laughed. They laughed and mocked. They sung “Roman’s a retard!” They’re all dead now.
Roman
Dear Chelsea magazine -
I love my Chelsea teddy bear. I called him “Terry”. I’m six. Can I be a ball boy?
Stevie, 4, Fulham
Dear Stevie -
I love Chelsea too! Why not buy your bear an official Chelsea scarf? They’re only 18.99 and available online. (edited by Chelsea FC communications dept.)
Roman
Player of the season
My legions in the sewers, hold your positions. I know it’s damp and smelly, but fear not, this Christmas you’ll each be blessed with a box of matches. And an egg. And a Chelsea FC cup holder.
Funniest moment
Do not cross me. Be warned that my vengeance is fast and brutal - when our time comes you’ll see the terrible fate of the weak and of the Belgian. That’s right.
Unsung hero
I sit in the directors box grinning with apparently no clue whatsoever about what’s happening around me - it’s all a cunning ruse to thrown THEM off our trail. Yes, that’s it. A ruse. I am dreaming of my ultimate power.
Surprise package
Stay on your guard. When Armageddon hour is at hand, I’ll send an entire squadron of my winged serpent scouts with the signal. Soon all the world will fear the name Roman Abramovich. Those still alive, that is.
Woman in the middle *Watching football, slightly distracted by schoolgirl-ish giggling on her left, feels cold and her knuckles are white from clutching handrail - not quite sure why*
Roman Abaramovich *Thinking about tonight, when under the cover of darkness he’ll hide behind trees in Hyde Park and leap out screaming to frighten strolling lovers before running away laughing manically, knuckles dragging, leaving his minders to erase their memories with fists and boots*
a) Chelsea FC Chairman Roman Abramovich celebrates his team’s progress to the FA Cup final with a late, late, winner against Blackburn on Sunday?
b) Russian Oil magnate Roman Abramovich checks out the crude oil prices?
c) Zombie overlord Roman Abramovich receives word his rouge scientist working feverishly in a Siberian lab is nearing completion of the super virus that, when released into the world’s water supply, will turn the population into brain eating walking dead trained to do his bidding?
d) Bad boy Roman Abramovich orders his KGB-trained bodyguard (front) to beat someone up?
That would explain a lot.
UPDATE: Holy. Shit. The shaved werewolf might have fooled (and possibly devoured) one unfortunate Russian bride, but now he’s going out with a Zombie! Check out that brain-hungry mouth, the dead, dead eyes and listing posture. She is FULLY a Zombie. What’s going on at Stamford Bridge? And why does Roman look so pleased? What does he know that we don’t? Does that smug, far-away look in his eyes mean he’s dreaming of a post-zombie-infestation apocalyptic world where he rules the few survivors through a callous blend of terror, fear and ritual humiliation? I think we should be told. 
Bonus football link - How good is Wayne Rooney?
Premiership
Wow. The Scousers beat Harlequins Chelsea, exposing their defensive shit-ness without John Terry for all to see and laugh at, and then feckin’ Arsenal went and beat Man Utd, pissing in the beer of those wanting Anyone But Chelsea to win it. It’s going to be interesting, team. Spurs managed not to lose at Fulham, which was nice. Ish.
TV
It’s a magic time for fans of watching floodlight sport from Australia late into the night, with the Commonwealth Bank series competing with the Australian Open tennis for screen time. The shots of Sydney’s sunset over the SCG during last nights’ game were spectacular.
Tottenham 2 Newcastle 3
Typical. Get up obscenely early. See your team play some really nice stuff, creating about twenty odd chances, score two, and then get burgled at home for three points. The Geordie moaners are so injured that Glenn Roeder’s neighbours’ boy got a run at left back. Arsene’s not even going to need his dodgy lasagne at this rate.
Scary link of the day
Sonny Shaw is the guy / psychopath that appears at every New Zealand Cricket or Rugby match ever - he’s easy to spot because he’s always got a flag, some bizzare fluffy toys, and lines himself up to gain maximum TV appearances, much to Sky TV’s despair. He’s widely disliked in Cricketing circles for his self-promotion and general creepiness. Obviously, this guy is a Muppet, but check out his website (thanks, Spare Room). Holy. Crap. There’s some scary, scary stuff within, from the anally retentive stats from his globe-trotting, to the nasty, extensive ‘Girls’ section (some NSFW), where the portly Shaw rubs his moustache on some poor unfortunates, with everyone looking like they’ve had plenty to drink. Sadly, the ‘Personalities’ section sheds no light on what makes him tick whatsoever. Fair play to Sonny for attending all those matches, but he’s basically representing his country, and should show some class.
Bonus cheap shot I prepared earlier - Sonny gets spear tackled
