Category: rugby

Catching up

Sorry for the ‘review being quiet lately – it seems one of the pre-requisites of a sports blog is *blogging*. I know. Here’s what’s been happening while real life has got in the way:

When me and a mate were trying to name the 1987 WC winning XV, John Drake was the last name we came up with – I only knew him much better as a commentator and columnist. I rate him alongside Tony Johnson as NZ’s best. Almost everyone paying tribute said he ‘had interests outside Rugby’, which is a sign of sanity.  We’ll miss his thoughtful, forthright style in our house when Stu Wilson starts levering foot into mouth again next season.

Iain O’Brien’s blogging on Cricinfo now, and while JRod bemoans him jumping ship, it seems that Cricinfo are re-blogging Iain’s blogspot site, not the other way around. As Emma Hart said on Hadyn Green’s PA discussion, ‘I was listening to O’Brien getting the hell bounced out of him that day and thinking, wow, can’t wait to read his blog about this’. Too right.

Cockfighting aside, there’s no crueler game than golf – it was excruciating to watch Hamilton’s David Smail mess up the Australian Open yesterday evening. Brother of sportreview has played with David, and even with a hugely successful career in Asia, he’d have wanted to nail the Australian Open to go with his NZ Open. Still, Smail handled himself with dignity throughout, in that situation I would have definitely vomited.

Ben from Mike on Cricket now has his own pad @ Crucket. Get in there.

Sorry I missed Links on Friday this week. If I’d got around to it, the Wunder Boner would have probably made the cut.

Rules for watching the Grand Slam at my place


– You get here by 5.45am. You’re not here by 5.45am, it’s the car radio.

– Come alone. You bring the wife? You’re going home. Kids? You’re going home. That Welsh guy from your work? Home. Clear? Good.

– Bring beer.  Yeah it’s Sunday morning, but this is Rugby. We drink. There’ll be no ‘make one can last the whole game and pour most of it in the sink like the World Cup’, either. It’s three cans per half minimum, and I’m going to be watching you like a fucking hawk.

– You stay quiet while I’m arguing with the commentators unless you’re saying “yeah, Greg’, ‘that’s right, Greg’, ‘good point well made, Greg’, or ‘you should be the commentator, Greg’. I’ll be ringing Deaker after, too, don’t you worry.

– Seeing as you’re around here watching my Sky, I’m going to need $25. That’s half my month’s subscription. Not fair? An 18 month ban from the Rugby club for shit that was never proved’s not fair, either. Just cos a joker’s got spray can on him for a bit of DIY on Sunday doesn’t mean he’s sprayed ‘We Are All Qeers’ on Eastern’s coach. Does it? Didn’t think so.

– Choose one from ‘cell phone off’ or ‘painful kick in the nuts’.

– If the All Blacks win, we’re on the piss for the day, mate. You gotta celebrate. DIY, Kid’s day, blah blah blah, what are ya? We’re going to the RSA. You’re driving.

– If the All Blacks lose you need pack your shit and be out in 60 seconds, starting from final whistle. If I’ve got a whole day of staring angrily at the lawn mower ahead, I want an early start.

UK Rugby fan wrong


Surrey resident Charles Chorltington-Worster resident today confirmed he lacks even basic knowledge of Rugby Union rules, tactics, players, coaches, referee’s calls and global pecking order. A lifelong England Rugby follower, Chorltington-Worster admitted to possessing less Rugby knowledge than a toaster. “I’m a typical Pommy Rugby aficionado, but I know sod all about it. Jolly poor show, what.” said Chortlington-Worster.

Speaking outside his local, The Buckteeth and Jodhpurs, Chortlington-Worster was only too happy to tell reporters his wrongness was total, utter, and retrospective, and the All Blacks were definitely poisoned in 1995, Tana tacked Brian fairly, Richie McCaw only plays to the limits of the laws, and Clive Woodward is crap.

The admission follows sterling work from New Zealand’s Grand Slam touring parties, unofficially recruited by the NZRFU to confront British fans in their places of work, pubs or homes, and point out they’re wrong. “We got briefed on the plane.” said Dave Gooseneck of Taranaki. “They told us ‘get stuck into the Poms and point out they’re wrong.’ Bloody oath I was keen, I was going to do it anyway.”

Gooseneck and his party were proud of their work so far in England and Scotland. “One Scottish wanker tried to tell me Jimmy Cowan wasn’t the best halfback in the world. I had the NZRFU Big Book Of Stats & Arguments out of me day pack in a flash. You should have seen his face.”

NZRFU CEO Steve Tew said the guerrilla campaign was yielding quick wins already. “Without going out and boiling the ocean, we’re seeing some real traction. By 2011, we could see UK coaches, administrators, even referees admitting they’re wrong. Licensing our methodology to other sports would be a big revenue opportunity, I’m sure Australian cricketers could adapt it for appeals, or self-righteous whinging. South Africa may be interested, but there’s a number of freelancers operating in this area there already.”

Regarding my ‘Official All Black Grand Slam Tour Blogger’ contract

I’m rapt to be the ‘Official All Black Grand Slam Tour Blogger in association with Warehouse Stationary’. Never in my wildest did I think my sporadic, barely literate farking around on the net would earn a six figure, one month gig. It’s a dream, etc etc.

However. This contract. We’ve got some show stoppers. Rats and mice, like the ‘turning up drunk’ and ‘punch Stu Wilson hard in the face’ clauses are missing. I’m surprised, but it doesn’t matter. I’d like to nut through the biggies now though, if we can.

First off, we’re not getting underway in the mornings ’til after 9.30. When I worked in London it was like 9.30. Later, if there’s tube problems. They’re always breaking down eh, you can’t control when you show up. And it’s not your fault.

Also, I’ll need Adidas socks, pants, shorts, shoes ( I like the old school ones, but I’ll take running shoes and sandals, too), caps, boxers, briefs, tees, sweatshirts, fleeces, coats, scarves, bags, beanies, wrist and headbands, and pens. ALL that shit’s necessary. You want good blogging, don’t you?  I’ll Trade Me it after, though, the stuff I don’t keep ’til it’s priceless. It all needs to be signed by everyone, too.

This ‘minimum daily word count’ is coming straight out. Blogging’s not like Rugby. You can’t measure it. I might do a three word post when we play England. And that’ll be blogging gold. I might do three words for the whole TOUR, and that would be enough. ‘Minimum word count’. You guys might have ruined the whole thing already.

Let’s talk PR. We’ll need some night club shenanigans, fighting in Wales, spewing in Dublin, All Black Booze Shocker, Our Papparazzi Shame, Whoops Misses Mind My Jock Strap, that kind of thing. Pommy tabs lap that shit up. Great publicity. The handbag really helped Tana, everyone knows who he is now. Maybe we could do something to Clive Woodward, or his house, that’d go over great back home.

We’re close on that contract now. Good meeting guys. Just so you know, when we get there I’ll chuck a sickie for a couple of days, catch up with some old mates. Just pick me up from The Snakebite & Firken in Willesden Green. Bring a car big enough for nine people? Ta.

sportreview.net.nz guide to New Zealand sport fans

Rugby Cricket Netball League
Match day

Match itself dreadful bore, but networking top class

 Behind the bowlers’ arm or listening to Radio Sport in the bar
 You can GO to a game? No way! Waving a big flag  and being there each and every largely unrewarded week
Eating and drinking Buffet left a little to be desired, must have a word to PA on Monday
 Off season spent on piss smuggling strategies Milo, mostly, with the odd family sized Milky Bar Big bitter, salty tears of disappointment
Showing support Blues and All Black scarfs kept in boot of the Jag Agonising sunburn and patchy nightclub eviction record Ruth Aitken embossed dinner trays Queues overnight for all matches, sell out or not
Patron saint Colin Meads – so rustic and charming to talk to
 Chris Cairns, Adam Parore, or anyone with a bad attitude
 Lois Muir. Or Jo Seager The Mad Butcher
TV Good god, no Usually catches highlights on clubhouse big screen, where you’ve been sleeping rough after Cheryl got house and kids, the bitch

 Slightly perturbed at missing Coro, but TV’s set to ONE permanently as it is, Mittens ate the jolly remote years ago Away matches at Workingman’s club. Better win / loss record in meat pack raffle than Warriors in NRL

Links on Friday

One flicker of Colin Meads’ eyebrows would shut this crappy blog down for good. This is what happens when you take him on.

What does a Spurs fan do after he sees his team win? Turns off the Xbox. Hilarious. Just you wait, fuckers.

Yuppies think they’re so smart. But now the stock market poked and their cars are turning on them.

I could play Stairway To Heaven when I was 12. Jimmy Page didn’t actually write it until he was 22.

Crusaders fan with no interest in Cricket talks you through the Black Caps’ Bangladesh series

…so Yoda pulled up in his Ford and says “What the bloody hell are you doing in my wheelie bin?”…

What’s that mate? Cricket? Shiiiiiiiiiit. Cricket’s about as interesting as shopping, I reckon. Shopping that’s not at Bunnings.

How are we going, anyway? We lost to Bangladesh? Doesn’t surprise me. Bloody  Black Caps. They’ve got more losers than the Graham farkin’ Henry fan club AGM.

We won the next one? Doesn’t surprise me. You can turn bad form around pretty farkin’ easily when you want to. Reminds me of Smelly Dave’s 21st. He was spewing when we called compulsory six wine skulls, one for each toe on his left foot. He did them alright, but had to go sit quietly in the laundry for a while. Fair enough, it was 8.30am. Still did a 3.19 for the yard, pretty fair effort, that.

Last one’s tonight? We’ll lose. There’s no mongrel. They need mongrel. And Robbie Deans. Robbie’d have that pack of pretty boys performing before you could say “SORRY I BURNED THE TOAST, PREFECT MERTHENS, NOT THE STRAP, NOT THE STRAP!” Ah ha. Yeah.

I might watch the match, but fark, if something else comes up, like a case of Canterbury Draught in the driveway with the dog, forget it. We done? Good.

…so yeah, I don’t reckon the Wallabies’ white bra-stripe is that bad, actually…

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