photos

Stalking fans might be interested in this snap of me with Cambridge’s favorite rowers Caroline and Georgina Evers-Swindell, who made it two Olympic golds in a row (geddit?) on Saturday night. You can click the picture to make it bigger. No, I don’t know which one is which(!).

Boston.com’s big picture blog points to an amazing series of photos from this year’s tour, including a tilt-shift shot of the peloton, and Devil Guy.

Le Tour is probably the most visually spectacular sporting event going, team. Except  Waikato Stadium with lingering shots of Hamilton’s CBD in the background, of course.

Links on Friday? Sorry, I’ll be fishing. Hopeully it’s as good as last year.

Here’s two vids to keep you going from the ITM fishing show. One. Two. And we’re off.

It’s fast racing, and tight courses with tricky corners means there’s high potential for crashes. There was a good size crowd enjoying cheering the riders on as we caught the elite Woman’s race and the start of the Men’s, high speeds and jostling for position create a real spectacle. SHIT they move. Auckland’s had events in Newmarket and Takapuna previously, and despite a good two minutes Googling, I can’t find details for this year. Check local guides for times, as they say. Recommended.

I was a bit nervous, frankly. My preparation for a new sport is usually sitting down with a book on it, and having read about epic man vs. fish battles lasting several hours I wondered if I’d bitten off more than I could chew. I went on a fantastic fishing trip off Great Mercury Island earlier this year, pulling up Snapper by the bucketload, but Marlin the size of horses would be an entirely different (ahem) kettle of fish.

Handily, it’s a quick trip out of Vanuatu’s harbour to the open ocean, and we quickly went from gently rolling seas into big old swells in 100-150 metres of ocean, and the Nikita, an 8 metre fibreglass boat started pitching up and down. I’m generally OK at sea, but wondered if repeated viewing of ‘Jaws’ and an overactive imagination were the best way to settle the nerves. Stefan had quickly organised 6 rods with impressive reels and brightly coloured lures looking like SpongeBob Squarepants’ mates - and we were fishing.

Vanuatu is renowned for its Marlin, Sailfish, which is like a Marlin with different fins, MahiMahi, a big fish with a weird round head, and Wahoo, “very agressive fish, teeth like Shark” explained Fabrice in his thick French accent. We trawled through the swell for an hour or so, before hitting Pointe Diablo, an impressive place where the ocean swell smacks the coast hard from very deep water - Nikita started bobbing more erratically than a Wallaby walking home from a team night out.

We followed the coast back into the bay, and just as we were headed out to sea Fabrice started shouting “Fish! Fish!”. I leaped up and into the chair, heart pounding… 30 seconds later I sheepishly pulled a thin little Tuna of no more that 30 centimetres on board. This was a great sign according to Fabrice, as it was our prey’s favourite snack, but Stefan gave me a quizzical look as I snapped a photo - surely it was too small to waste pixels on?

It was back out to sea, and my little Tuna was quickly speared with a big hook and chucked overboard to add variety to the menu we had on offer. The swell was just as big, and despite Fabrice’s constant pleading “Where are the fiiiish?”, we had no luck. He was on the radio to other fishermen, and of the four or five boats out that morning, only one caught a fish, a 22kg Wahoo. It wasn’t my day, and as we went back to the harbour, I thought technically, I’m not a big game fisherman yet (I’m on my way though - on observing Fabrice and Stefan’s bare feet, I quietly kicked my jandals off under my seat - smooth). I enjoyed being out in the ocean and listening to the tales of better days and bigger fish, I’ll be back out there for sure.

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PICT0017, originally uploaded by richirvine73.

Waikato’s playing jersies hang in the window of their dressing room behind the South Stand at Eden Park.

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Sharp darts, that.

Fishy fishy, originally uploaded by richirvine73.

I hauled this one out of the harbour this morning before work. I think I’ll call him Nathan Bracken.

And we did it all by being stupid.

What is it with dressing up, though? Watching Hurricanes matches from the Cake Tin, you always see a couple of muppets in the crowd in costume braving the pissing rain, make you wonder if you were there for the rugby or what. The Sevens, though, takes away all that bother about watching a game so you can fully concentrate on your get-up, and people go to huge efforts to outfit themselves and their mates in elaborate costumes. For the ladies, it was all about cleavage, with saucy policewomen, saucy taxi drivers, and saucy air stewardesses to the fore. But for the lads, it’s all about lycra. Jesus, the lycra, there were super heroes, wrestlers, aerobic instructors, if it was slinky and it stretched, it was there, with everyone being obsessively photographed on cameras and phones. There were at least 40 Crocodile Hunters, some going with the controversial Sting Ray wound option. Star of the weekend was The Borat, a guy brave / foolish enough to wear that Lime green over the shoulder G-string down Lampton Quay to the match - he wound up on the front page of the Dominion Post with a follow up story on Waitangi day. Most impressive was the Gimp sitting in front of us on Saturday, promoting much speculation on logistics every time he nipped to the loo.

As for the rugby, well, most people don’t bother to even start watching matches until late Saturday. In keeping with the spirit of the weekend, there was huge support for the under dogs, like Kenya and Portugal, who walked off with some trophy or other after beating Scotland. New Zealand looked like what they were - guys not good enough to be included in the Super 14 thrown together at the last minute, despite the best efforts of Titch and Eric Rush. The final was a huge boil-over, Fiji were looking skillful and very strong until they met the hard tacking Samoans, who gave them no space to work their magic at all.

The IRB sees Sevens as a way to promote the game without all that pesky rucking, mauling and having to watch Rugby for an hour and a half. While Sevens has more tradition than say, 20/20 cricket, in NZ the tournament is an excuse for a party, and for two days 30,000 odd people had a bloody good time, without a hint of trouble that I saw, and you can’t say fairer than that. The Cake Tin is a superbly appointed and located venue - we were out of the stadium and having a drink on the waterfront about half an hour after the final whistle. If you’re not bothered about watching Rugby, the Sevens is a highly recommended experience, in New Zealand’s best city for a weekend away.

Bring out the Gimp.

Borats. Note the traumatised child bottom right.

I got ‘interviewed’ by the One Network News team, who were quite a larf. They don’t like Judy Bailey, though.

You have received a Telecom Photo/Video Message, originally uploaded by richirvine73.

Here’s a ham-fisted attempt at ‘live-blogging’ on my shiny new Nokia 6275 phone. I think the pics came out nice, but I’m disturbed that my phone’s megapixel count is fast catching up on my three year old ‘actual camera’!

Picture message, originally uploaded by richirvine73.

…has some marvellous views of the Kaipara harbour.
Go play it.

Here’s the coolest airport photo I’ve seen for a while, complete with totally rad banking manoeuvre from a disgruntled Air New Zealand pilot.

Now violence doesn’t solve anything - but if you’d like a headbutt from Matt, leave your name in the comments.

So yeah, my name’s Richard Irvine, Matt, and I was trying to be constructive! Rebuttal on The Silver Fern before too long.

Possum turned up at Eden Park on Saturday night. Normally busy threatening Waikato Stadium with his chainsaw from the relative safety of a cherry picker bucket, he appeared in the South Stand in the second half to mingle with his public.

It was like the Pope turning up in a Dublin bar, within seconds he was offered a beer (which he took in a flash), had shook everyone’s hand, and posed for photos (You’re Possum! I love you!) with his fans. And then he was gone.

In this day and age of professional rugby, where the Blues have a (feckin)Pirate running around Eden Park (because the market research says you just gotta have a mascot, the target demographic LOVES mascots), it’s nice to know crazed fans like Possum are around.

Now Waikato just need to go back to the two-man-pantomine-horse-style Mooloo, then I’ll be happy.