The gravel in your sporting ice cream.
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
Great to see the Herald’s graphic artists stoop to the crappy-PowerPoint-speech-bubble-level. Pull up a chair boys, there’s beer in the fridge. Mind the stain… that one too… there you go.
Here’s today’s front page:
And the close up…
This is great, but remember – you can make them say anything. Why stop at paraphrasing what they’ve already said? Go nuts, really. It’s fun. Case in point:
(click for original)
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.
Sportsfreak and Cricket With Balls have both applied for the Black Caps coaching job – that seemed like a nickable idea, so here’s mine.
Jeremy Coney, on his first tour to Australia, was given some money to buy himself a pair of cricket shoes. He came back with a twelve string guitar. This is the model for my coaching regime.
Let’s face it, we’re a small, remote, Rugby obsessed nation with no meaningful domestic scene to speak of, and we punch above our weight as it is. We’re going to embrace humor and guts, and get on with it. I reckon we’ll do brilliantly.
Our players will all be free to play in England, India, even (especially) Australia if it means they front up for the Black Caps and score runs and take wickets. All up and comers must play a year in Ireland at my old club to get some solid life experience / piss down them.
From now on, NZ Cricket’s priorities will be tests, then everything else. We’ll play with style and imagination, and we’ll never take an embarrassing towelling again.
These are the kinds of players I’ll develop:
The Latham. No nonsense opener who knows how to stay out there and make runs. Can also bowl dobbers.
The Wright. No nonsense opener who knows how to stay out there and make runs. Is also really funny.
The Fleming. Captaincy genius. Works opposition batsmen out to the extent they can’t fart without a fieldsman being on hand.
The Crowe. A ‘where did he come from?’ batsmen with shots so elegant the Aussie quicks weep into their moustaches.
The Jones. Guy with style as ungainly as using an ironing board to change a lightbulb in the dark, but scores runs.
The MacMillian. Fearless, swashbuckling shotmaker. Can also bowl dobbers.
Brendan McCullum. I’ll have two, please.
The Hadlee. Makes the ball talk, saying stuff like “You’re shit. Get back in the shed”.
The Harris. Folk hero batsman who specialises in getting us home against Australia in the tight ones. Can also bowl dobbers.
The Dan. Every team needs a guy in glasses. We may need a fat guy also.
The Bond. We just need someone really, really quick.
Other initiatives include:
The Dobber academy. We’ll play to our strengths and produce a nation of slow mediums that can tie down an end and take vital wickets.
Marketing will be immediately handed over to Mike and Paul of the Beige Brigade – this should have been done years ago. NO music will be played at the grounds when cricket is being played, ever
TV and radio commentary will be handled by Leg Break and the Mike on Cricket lot, along with Jeremy Wells. JRod will do the interviews / keys in the pitch bit.
That’s my application. Remember, a vote for a smart-arse blogger coached Black Caps is a vote for New Zealand, pies for lunch, beers after work, and beating Australia.
The Something Awful goons are getting behind Hockey Scores, a cacophony of bleating, crying, and drums that sound like something Chris Knox would make when he came home pissed, voting it to become the theme for A Big Serious Hockey Program – and the hockey fans aren’t happy.
This kind of thing is, of course, brilliant, and should be encouraged in this country.
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.
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.
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