Richard Irvine – Page 19 – sportreview.net.nz

Millions of voices tweeting out in terror – then silence

The NZRFU HQ is on a secret mission to turn the dreadlock holiday Hurricanes into the Crusaders in the hope of being good at rugby and that. They picked the right man for the job – Mark Hammett, who comes from the Robbie Deans ‘what the fuck are you looking at? school of media relations is so embedded in Crusaders culture that his stools look a little bit like Grizz Wylie.

First job is the clear-out. All Blacks Nonu, an eye-liner-ed maverick that won’t listen to The Man, and Hore, a disappointing captain despite the ginger beard and that, are out. Dumping two current All Blacks is as bold a move as putting up a really, really cringey sign right beside your main airport, but it’s no surprise, the indications were were there all along if people had been paying attention:

More players are expected to go – hilariously, the enigmatic tweeter Corey Jane seems pretty disappointed not to be included in the first cut, and has been flouncing on and off Twitter in protest, when flouncing around a rugby field properly might be a better move. Throwing out All Blacks like a Dublin nightclub bouncer is a new thing for super rugby in New Zealand – all eyes will be on Hammett next year, if he hasn’t been made All Black coach by then.

Still, the latest challenge to the Hurricane’s title challenge is stuff.co.nz’s attempt to bring the team down from within. They’ve imported their very own Stephen Jones lite, Mark Reason, to provide some fist thumping, claret slurping, yorkshire pudding farting, jolly hockey sticks rhetoric to really set the cat among the grouse. This week, he aimed both barrels at Hammett and the wayward Hurricanes:

Nonu’s propensity for yellow cards and dissent is not acceptable. Hore’s drinking is not acceptable. Weepu coming back from injury overweight is not acceptable. Jane tweeting dissent is not acceptable.

Reason, who mysteriously googles very poorly and probably looks like an injured Piri Weepu, is obviously taking his ‘wind everyone up’ brief seriously, but he’s trying too hard. Outraging New Zealand rugby fans is easier than locating a dickhead in Australia – we’re unhappy when we win, let alone when we lose. Most people’s abiding memory of winning the 1987 world cup is being upset at that dork waving behind David Kirk. Word on the twitter street is that Reason is only starting to rev the Land Rover, and will be full steam ahead trolling the rugby public by the time the world cup comes around. Thanks, stuff.co.nz, that’s just what we need.

Links on Friday

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.

Defending the Donald

Stephen Donald is the Marmite of NZ rugby – tasty to some, black death to others. His career’s misfortune is that he’s been forced to step into Dan Carter’s massive jockey’s billboard shaped shadow and attempt to pick up where the sleepy looking greatest first five ever leaves off. Not an easy thing to do.

There’s a line in Nick Hornby’s fantastic Fever Pitch about Tony Adams “struggling manfully with his limitations”. This is Donald to a tee, he just doesn’t LOOK like the most natural rugby player, all elbows and knee, excruciatingly mouthing “Focus… follow through…” as he lines up another scatter-gun shot at goal. And yet, he’s capable of moments of brilliance – in the 2009 season, he was magnificent, all kick and regathers, surging runs through the middle, consistent goal kicking… but then he went and played for the All Blacks, personally taking the blame for losing the unbeaten record in the last minutes of the Hong Kong test.

Now, he’s as popular with All Blacks fans as Richie McCaw’s ankle injury. While not yet at full Philpott level, he couldn’t be less loved if he’d run Shrek the sheep over with his tractor. That’s why I was so pleased on Saturday night when he steered the Chiefs home (alright, in wobbly fashion) to a win over the Blues. So pleased, I tweeted the crap out of it:

Very pleased. And a bit drunk.

Donald looked delighted afterwards, and I was delighted for him. No, I don’t think he’s an ideal Carter backup either (the Herald is obviously jittery), but he’s what we’ve got until someone else steps up (when Slade’s jaw is fixed maybe?). Fuck it anyway, he’s first five for My Team – and he’s done a bloody good job for us. Screw you guys. I’ll be over the moon when Stephen ‘Beaver’ Donald is free to be what he truly is: a really good super rugby first five, without the pressure of being All Black backup, before taking the money and running to England, where he’ll win three or four Heineken Cups no doubt. Don’t listen to ’em Stephen.

The crackdown starts here

Links on Friday – Jimmy Cowan

If you haven’t been to youtube and typed ‘Jimmy Cowan’ into the search box, you’re missing out on more comedy and violence than a Die Hard quadruple feature. The seemingly surly Southland scamp, when he’s not dishing it out like on this sneaky late hit on Jimmy Gopperth or smacking his own captain on the head, is getting it dished up to him by Bakkes fucking Botha in an alarming fashion.

Still, that doesn’t mean he’s not up for some fun, like kicking Dan Carter’s arse in a trick kicks competition, getting Ma’a Nonu sent off for the laugh and having some harmless japes with the officials. Mind you, this is probably the saddest thing I’ve ever seen. Cheer up, Jimmy!

Triples

Take eight minutes to watch the story of Taupo’s Jed Milton landing the world’s first triple backflip on a BMX – fair play to him and his team for the planning, practise and production that went into the jump, and the Taupo District Council for letting him do it in a public park. Here’s a clip of just the jump.

Guy with ‘make Otago jersey green’ idea told “don’t have any more ideas”

NEWSDESK: Otago Highlanders marketing exec Steve ‘Steve’ Landrover, who conceptualised changing the famous blue, gold and maroon colours to green, has been instructed to not have any more ideas.

Landrover, who believes Highlanders management “aren’t seeing the bigger picture,” said “I triangulated this opportunity for literally hours. HOURS. When you factor in the synergies between rugby – which is played on grass, and grass – which is green, it’s obvious.”

When told about the new green playing strip, which is launching this Friday, Highlanders Chairman Ross Laidlaw commented “fucking WHAT?” before refusing to comment. Otago salwart Laurie Mains is outraged, telling reporters “It’s fair to say I’m outraged – I don’t even know how outraged I am to be honest, but I’m sure it’s going to be pretty fucking outraged. I’ll figure it out and get back to you,” before hurrumphing weightily several times.

Landrover’s plans for ‘Bring A Flaming Couch, Get In Half Price’, ‘Buy One Beer, Get 14 Free’ and ‘Kids Get Pinecones Covered In Cow Shit day’ promotions have been shelved at this stage.

Will to live status: being sucked

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.

Reading list

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.

Parore scales Everest, still a twat

NEWSDESK: Former Black Cap and woman’s magazine regular Adam Parore remains a twat, despite climbing Mt Everest.

Parore, who once referred to himself as a brand, completed the 8848m ascent on Friday, no doubt thinking all the while about getting back to his trim decaf Lattés and Range Rover he left double parked on Ponsonby Road.

“My goals have always been to criticise Jesse Ryder’s weight in the national press and climb Everest, so it’s great to have knocked those bastards off,” said Parore, from the Kathmandu airport Koru Lounge.