Struggle Streeters,
It is my melancholy duty to report that my greatest hero in world cricket in the modern era, MJ Clarke, is negatively geared to fuck.
You heard me right.
And that finds me somewhat conflicted, or more probably, naive.
Pup has been fine tuning his skills in his potential new career in motivational speaking, talking to real estate agents again, this time in Sydney.
My Spy at The Ground reckons the great man began his keynote address with the simple five-word introduction "I have always loved property"
Michael revealed that since the age of 21, he has sunk 75% of his not insubstantial after-tax income into real property.
That's a helluva lot of pineapples when you do the sums.
He reminded the agents that he was forever mindful of the old maxim of location, location, location, and always "purchased property close to sporting facilities, public transport and shopping centres".
But, he played it smart and cagey, saying how many Gloria Soames he has on his books and actually owns outright, is for him to know and for you to find out.
However, Pup had no hesitation in slapping down $1.38M on a three-level four bedroom townhouse off-the-plan at the new development at Lake Macquarie [near Newcastle, of all places] called Trinity Point, which is to feature 189 residential land lots, 250 apartments and a five star 65 room Pullman Hotel.
A negative gearer's wet dream.
On interview after the real estate conference, Pup described Trinity Point as having the potential to be "the new Palm Beach, it is so close to Sydney".
Asked what he was going to do with his new pile up there, he replied "Kyly and I will probably use it as a holiday house".
Nice work if you can get it.
And the best of British luck to him.
Who wouldn't give their right arm to be a rentier?
Just a shame he had to take full advantage of that "rare gift from the Government" aka negative gearing, and then just sit back and watch capital gain and compound interest tee off.
Sweet.
For some.
Always wondered why his team-mates referred to him by the nick-name "Moneybats" Clarke; just thought it had something to do with his extensive list of prestige endorsements [admittedly spruiking Oral B toothpaste was a mistake], but now everybody knows different.
Speaking of real estate, suddenly had a random echo of that feeling that you have when you are tripping, when my attention was drawn to the fact that Clarkey's Southern Highlands' 240 acre farm and homestead, which he can't sell for love nor money, is now a holiday rental at $1200 a night for use of the entire property.
Oh my Lordy, a Clarkey fan's Christmases come all at once
Found myself having wild fantasies about getting the old gang back together and renting the joint out for the weekend [the place sleeps 15], having a game of six-a-side on the beautifully maintained cricket oval, plundering the wine cellar, lovingly fondling the silverware in the trophy cabinet, having a hit or two on the lawn tennis court followed by a plunge into the pool and spa, knocking around balls on the billiards table and generally revelling in the genteel ambience of the country-style mansion.
At one stage even dreamed we could do some 'shrooms and sleep with all the memoriabilia and write the beat poem "The Night I Fucked Michael Clarke" in adoration the morning after, while the psilocybin was still coursing through our veins.
You know what they say about Paradise...it's just a matter of what is it? where is it? how do you get there?
And when you do, naturally, you go completely off the hook.
Meantime, on the actual cricket comeback front foot:
It was a pity that Pup travelled all the way to Hong Kong to play in the world-class Hong Kong T20 Blast, or whatever it was called, only to find that the bulk of the tournament was washed out by early monsoon rains, and the players were forced to flee to the Hong Kong Cricket Association pavilion for endless trays of gin'n'tonics and canapes for days on end as heavens opened.
The Stats Guru - always keen for completion in his vast archive - gave me a ring mid-week drawing my attention to a headline that read "New South Wales refuses to include Michael Clarke for 2016-27 Season" to ask if he could now rule a line under MJ Clarke's stellar, incomparable first-class career?
Turns out the story was a classic beat up, turning as it did on a quote from an obscure offical at Cricket NSW, who, when asked, made an aside of a remark along the lines of "no, Michael isn't in our plans for next summer".
When the press getta hold of it, that turns into "refuses".
The story also went on to detail how Pup was "in talks" with the two Sydney Big Bash T20 franchises viz a viz next season, based on a quote from another obscure official from the Sixer's who said "yeah, we talked to Michael a while ago now, but it's a very long off-season and we only have a couple of spots left on our roster, so there is no rush to make any decisions at the moment, as we are currently planning to work with the squad that we have".
That could be convoluted code for "don't want him, either".
So MJ Clarke's professional playing days, after an interminable comeback, could finally end where it all began - with one first grade game for Western Suburbs.
At last it might have finally dawned on the legend that cricket is a cruel game, and when yr gorn, yr gorn.
After being to the top of the mountain, what else has the man left to achieve anyway?
So there you go.
The ordinary bloke from the 'burbs, the Bankstown Boy, turns full circle.
Sweet.
For some.
