Chris Rattue selected at Number 8; invited to ‘walk the talk’

NEWSDESK: In an unexpected move, outspoken New Zealand Herald writer Chris Rattue has been selected at Number 8 for the first test against France.

After spitting out his Weet Bix while reading Rattue’s article “Worst All Black side of modern era“, Graham Henry got on the phone. “We see Chris as quality cover for our injury crisis. I’d also love to see the look on that desk jockey’s face when Chabal gets hold of him.”

The journalist, one of the current All Black coaching staff’s harshest critics, learned of his call up while out shopping at a K Road bakery and fried chicken outlet.

“I took the call on the mobile, and thought it was one of the boys having me on – I wound up telling Graham to ‘piss up a rope, fuckstick!’ He saw the funny side after ringing me back.”

At a particularly awkward press conference, Rattue highlighted his Rugby career, consisting mainly of a local First XV wrecking his parents’ house during a party one time. He did share detail of his recent training regime, made up of walking, not driving, the 150m to the video shop.

Kicking a dingo when he’s down

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I was up early to see the Australians go out of the T20 World Cup at the hands of Sri Lanka (in their first game since the bus bomb in Pakistan). Nothing unites the cricketing world like an Ocker loss, here’s a selected run down from the blogs and that:

The Beige Holden points out Tricky Ricky is the biggest loser in international T20s now that he is responsible for 10 notches on other captains’ belts.

Jrod identifies the gaping holes in Ponting’s T20 captaincy (‘I do wish the Dutch were playing in the Ashes’), and speculates why they imploded like an NRL team on a brewery tour.

The Guardian revels in the Aussies’ upcoming fortnight in Leicester with all the potential for stir-craziness that entails, warning of ‘a national outcry if the England and Wales Cricket Board loans them as much as a Scrabble board.’

Links on Friday

Get Your Basketball On! Learn the secret to wining basketball from Axel Foley

After the champions’ league win, Messi got messy in every headline writer’s dream scenario. This is what I imagine @Naly_D was like at his 21st

Forget flowers, chocolates or expensive, planet-wrecking SUVs. Get the lady in your life a Shii

Why can’t you be in one of those decent situation comedies that your mother likes?

No dinner ’til your topspin serve kicks

Fantastic article from Slate: Wanted: Insane Tennis Parents – The only way to end America’s Grand Slam drought.

Unfortunately for the USTA, national organizations with comprehensive mission statements don’t produce tennis champions. Crazy tennis parents do.

While sociopathy—the utter lack of a conscience—undermines a society, it happens to be really useful on court.

I guess Tennis just brings out the fucking nuts in folk.

Football’s seven deadly sins

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The Guardian has a mazy dribble through Football’s seven deadly sins. Gluttony, sloth, pride (D. Beckham features) and lust are all covered.

“There was a karaoke competition going on, but John’s a quiet one off the pitch and wasn’t having it at all. It started off as a bit of a lark with some of the other lads having a go but then it got completely out of hand. John went ballistic because Craig wouldn’t take no for an answer. He was screaming at Craig to leave him alone, saying he wouldn’t do it and yelling insults.” The pair squared up to each other, trading expletives, before other players stepped in to intervene, the group subsequently dispersing and heading to their rooms. Yet Bellamy apparently felt he had lost face in front of his team-mates and, having armed himself with a putter, tracked down Riise in his hotel room and swung the club at the full-back’s legs.”