Ten reasons to dislike Shane Watson

Ten reasons to dislike Shane Watson:

1. Worst haircut in the history of test cricket.
2. Holds every good shot for a few seconds just so the photographers can get a good snap.
3. Stalks other more credentialed cricketers for their place in the team.
4. Manages to get injured while blinking.
5. Once took MJ Clarke’s place in the team, before being injured.
6. Smirks like an Elizabethan court jester.
7. Gets bowled and LBW a lot for a bloke with an allegedly barrel-tight defence.
8. Calls a press conference after straightening out a technical flaw.
9. Can’t win a bet for dinner in the nets.
10. Bowls a lot of rubbish.

spreading the love

My Dear Chairman,

Seems like the tour selectors have been taking some very powerful wild & crazy drugs in the West Midlands if the late mail is anything to go by; viz a viz a hastily cobbled together plan to drop the young MJ Hughes in favour of FIGJAM Watson!!!!
Now, granted, the Chairman and the Three Wise Men have always had this weird obsession with playing The Great Watto at every and any opportunity, but since when has he opened for anyone, anywhere??
Or maybe they’ll just shuffle the batting and pluck some other unsuspecting bat out of the order to open, drop MJ Clarke down to 4, and play Watto at 5 or 6.
Who knows what on earth they are thinking??
Fools!
One certain way to lose a test match is to tinker with the fundamental balance of a team for no reason at the last minute.
Also strong mail from the Vice-Captain that they will persist with Joke Johnson, against all the basic principles of a time-honoured thing known in racing circles as “form”.
And with Uncle Horrie also set be retained as a 4th and 5th day insurance policy, that means just about the only bowler in the touring party capable of striking fear into the hearts of the hapless Engerland batsmen, none other than No-E Clark, will once again be relegated to gin & tonic duties.
Fools!
Not that it all matters that much in the grand scheme of things with little likelihood of any play on Day One:

“Several members of Edgbaston's groundstaff will work on the water-logged outfield through the night, but have privately conceded there is little chance of play on Thursday. Steve Rouse, the head groundsman, appeared to be fighting a losing battle aboard one of the four super-soppers in operation on the playing surface on Wednesday as rain continued to threaten the third Ashes Test.”
Cricinfo.

In the meantime, great to see that Pup is spreading the love, and advertising his wares on LuvFree…
“Free online dating with well-educated boyfriend from Baku, Azerbaijan, Michael Clarke, 29.”

http://www.luvfree.com/profile76242

hibernation time

Fair weather fans,

Rather difficult to keep track of two football teams when they found themselves both playing away games simultaneously in the National Capital.

A classic game of two sides going through the motions, with Sydney allowed to just win in the end to avoid a stewards inquiry.
Only two things of any note to come out of the match were the first away win in 12 out-of-town fixtures [you can blame the Swans problems on that, there and then] and the abysmally miserable crowd figure.
Granted, the Canberra dawn started at sub-zero and the mercury never got above eight degrees on the day and there was a rugby league match in progress across town [but the two codes are by and large mutually exclusive], and it is currently hibernation time in that part of the world.
But struggling to get more than a few thousand in for the nation’s elite comp?
They are kidding aren’t they?
The turnstile staff would be the first to admit that they didn’t have an overly busy day.
Heard in commentary one end of Manuka Oval being referred to as the “café strip end”.
Perhaps that’s where The Man and His Dog got to, and no further, after seriously reconsidering their plans to go to the football.
[“I’ll have a hot Milo for me and a footy frank for the dog, thanks mate. How much is that?”].
No doubt the stats guru’s will be able to come up with the exact dates, but surely it has to be one of the worst AFL crowds, anywhere, in many a year.
If that hasn’t furrowed a few brows at AFL HQ, then nothing will.
And Canberra wants a piece of the Western Sydney action?
Gawd help us all!
{noted in the midweek fishwraps that the Canberra rules people are now crying out loud that it wasn’t their fault and that the AFL are charging a king’s ransom to stage a game and blah, and no one is really interested anyway, and they are now considering downsizing their blah bid to host up to six Western Sydney games to one or two, or none at all, on the grounds that, much like me apparently, they want to have their cake and eat it too}
Couldn’t help but notice that the bitter conditions appeared to have forced SC Roos, who looked like he’d forgotten his coat, scarf and wooly red & white jesters hat, from his favoured customary position on the sidelines bench, back into the air conditioned coach’s box.
After slapping his sides on the way up, he moped about on his feet for the last half hour in the back of the box [probably had a nice cup of tea and a read of the paper when the camera wasn’t on him] while Johnny Longmire was actually calling the shots through the microphone and headset.
A sign of things to come?

MELBOURNE: 1.2, 2.6, 4.11, 6.14 (50). Goals: Moloney, Jurrah, Miller, Davey, Newton, Whelan.
SYDNEY: 3.4, 6.6, 7.6, 10.8 (68). Goals: Jolly 3, McVeigh 2, Moore, O'Keefe, Mattner, White, J Bolton.
At Manuka Oval, Canberra.
Crowd: 7,311.

Seasoned observers at the ground, who have seen the Raiders glory days been and gone, couldn’t come up with any more descriptive words than ‘lackluster’ and ‘pedestrian’ to get a handle on this one.
But as the Club Secretary will always tell you, a win is a win is a win.
Balmain has been pretty well settled for the past six weeks or so with SC Sheens able to get the same motley mob together on the training paddock for the first time this year with no major injury, no one has been caught behaving badly in nightclubs or anywhere else for that matter, the forwards have seemingly got season fit and serious, the try scoring freaks are on song, and the two marquee players are doing what they are paid to do and making a closer inspection of the cash stashed manila envelopes passed to them in the rooms after the game to make sure it all tots up.
A cursory glance at the draw reveals the Mighty Tiges have more or less the perfect run home, a couple of soft touches along with some choice looking bash ‘em ups to sort the men from the boys at the finish.
5th Sea Eagles [H], 16th and stone motherless Roosters [A], 15th and second stone motherless Sharks [A], then 12th Eels [H], 3rd Titans [A], and 2nd Bulldogs [H]
Winning half of the last half dozen, especially the first three on the back of two wins and a bye, could well be categorized as a late season purple patch and they’d probably squeeze into the top eight, while a good result in either of the last two would almost guarantee it and be an excellent test on entrée into September.
You do the sums.
Hope springs eternal for the diehard, who’d never admit the jig is up, until the inevitability of Mad Monday rolls around, as always.

CANBERRA RAIDERS 4. Tries: Vidot
WESTS TIGERS 25. Tries: Moltzen (2), Morris, Tuiaki. Goals: Marshall (4). Field Goals: Farah (1).
At Canberra Stadium.
Crowd: 11,115.

an old fashioned stink

Bleacherists,

Said it before, say it again, there is no finer sight in world sport than running rugby league, and no finer place to have a look at it than Leichhardt Oval.
Couldn’t live with myself if one pilgrimage to the Spiritual Home of Balmain Rugby League this season went begging, so got on the 445 bus to the 2005 Grand Final re-match.
A good crowd in, and as usual, the place was “dripping with atmosphere”
Things did not auger well from the off, with the Tiges conceding a very soft Cowboys try within the opening 45 seconds of the match.
As things began to look grimer, it was fabulous to see an old fashioned stink in the scrum, right in front of me too!
Just like the glory days.
Farah took exception being worked over by his opposite number Anthony Watts in the front row, and broke up the scrum to complain to the Bamford, who ignored him and repacked the scrum, whereupon Robbie took the law into his own hands and began giving Watts a bit of his own medicine; the scrum blew up into a massive stink with Farah and Watts going toe to toe, Farah getting in a couple of good left jabs before felling the hapless Cowboy with a massive right hook, that had him out cold with Farah standing over him, screaming, a-la-Ali.
The crowd, including me of course, went absolutely apeshit.
When the dust settled, the Bamford sent Watts to the sin bin for ten minutes for starting the stink, and then marched Farah off as well for going on with it.
At least the Monday morning league justice system got it right, rubbing Watts out for two matches for being an utter idiot, while the Best Leb in the Game got off scot free!!
After the game, Farah was asked on interview what prompted the stink, to which he replied “I’ve got no idea, mate”.
Obviously subscribes to the school of thought which suggests rugby league and gratuitous violence go like a hand in a glove.
From that moment on, the North Queenslanders were done like a dinner, and the match was never in doubt.
The Human Wrecking Ball scored his customary try much to the delight of the punters, while the try scoring freak Lawrence latched onto a ball that had gone through half a dozen sets of hands before sprinting Ben Johnson-like over 70 metres to plant the ball under the black dot
Something happened almost every time Benii touched the ball, and he ended up a deserved man of the match, with his trademark jink and step opening the Tigers’ account on the scoreboard.
After the break, the Balmain forwards appeared to be powered by the groundsman’s steamroller, crushing everything in their path, with Farah only emphasizing their complete dominance when he strolled over the line untouched late in the game to put the fruit on the sideboard.
At half time, found myself standing behind a bloke in a beer queue who had a young boy, perhaps two years old, in his arms who said something to which his father replied ”no son, were not at the cricket now. We are at the rugby league. See that inflatable Tiger over there? Grrrr, Tigers, that means we are at the rugby league”.
The kiddie nodded his head, but still had a very puzzled look on his face.
Leichhardt, surely, must now be the only football ground in the world still selling ice cold beer in unopened cans at five bucks a throw.
As always, bar staff couldn’t be bothered with silly little plastic cups or fistfuls of worthless coins.
Stumbling back to the bus stop after the game, pleasantly surprised to see the lights on in The Orange Grove Hotel, which was boarded up a few months ago amid fears that it would become yet another anonymous apartment block, but lo and behold, the joint has been reincarnated into – a pub.
Of course, they have stripped all the character out of the joint in another one of those bog-ordinary no-need-for-an-architect paint-by-numbers hotel renovations [a TAB is now where the fireplace used to be], but at least it remains the only watering hole within spitting distance of the ground.
And oh, don’t make my mistake and eat in the new bistro.
Despite being disassociated from local politics since being forced off the Balmain peninsular more than 20 years ago by hideous real estate prices, was not surprised to be handed a protest flyer at the turnstiles:

SHAME LEICHHARDT COUNCIL
Leichhardt Council Mayor Jamie Parker: SENDING TIGERS BROKE!
WONT approve the leagues club development
WONT support immediate Leichhardt Oval upgrades
WONT support more games at Leichhardt Oval
WONT support more ovals for junior rugby league
Tell the Mayor that Tigers belong in the community!

Someone should’ve told the bloke handing them out that absolutely nothing’s changed over the decades.

WESTS TIGERS 34. Tries: Marshall, Lawrence, Tuiaki, Gallant, Payne, Farah. Goals: Marshall (5).
NORTH QUEENSLAND COWBOYS 14. Tries: Bowen, Webb. Goals: Thurston (3).
At Leichhardt Oval.
Crowd: 18,408.


The defeatist attitude from the super coach mid week obviously permeated from the top down.
How else to explain leading by two goals at half time and then having nine unanswered goals kicked on you in the final quarter?
By then the old blokes had just run out of legs and would probably have played better football if they had appeared on the ground in wheelchairs and had been pushed around by girls in funny nurse’s hats.
Simple fact of the matter was that Carlton took out the giant tusk during the third quarter, and then with two goals in as many minutes at the opening of the final quarter, rammed the damnable thing clean up the Swans’ runter.
Sensibly, SC Roos limited his post match comments on interview to "I'd say it would probably have to be one of the most disappointing games in the last seven years, no question.”
Probably?
No question?
So with the aged brigade gone for all money, let’s just see how the young folk shaped up on the day.
Of the 22 players picked by the Swans, a cursory glance at the team sheet reveals that only six were 22 years of age or younger:
The Veszpremi Kiddie [19]: Outmuscled, outclassed.
Jesse “James” White [21]: One good quarter for a few goals. Then went AWOL.
Kieran “Son of Gary” Jack [22]: Genuine talent. Best of the bunch on a bad day.
Danny “Pup” Hanebury [18]: Schoolboy playing a man’s game.
Eddie “Cheese” Barlow [22]: Solid, if unspectacular, as always.
Craig “Noisy” Bird [20]: Did he play? If he did, got no game time.
A lot of work, a lot of very hard work, to be done there.
Sickening to see Teddy Richards coughing up blood near the dénouement after a clash with that Bad Uncle Fev.
Wound up in hospital with busted ribs and a punctured lung, contemplating a sore and sorry season over, while surrounded by family and friends.
Did Fev bother to give him a call to inquire about his health?
No.
Some deadshits do play the game, don’t they?

CARLTON: 3.4, 4.6, 10.8, 19.10 (124). Goals: Fevola 5, Fisher 3, Kreuzer 2, Gibbs 2, Murphy 2, Judd, Carrazzo, Simpson, Betts, Yarran.
SYDNEY: 3.1, 6.3, 9.5, 9.9 (63). Goals: White 4, O'Keefe 2, O'Loughlin, Jolly, Ablett.
At Docklands Stadium.
Crowd: 42,018.

the little paintbrush and the pot of gold paint

Canine fanciers,

Is MJ Clarke the greatest cover driver of the modern era?
The question on everyone’s lips.
Wracking my brain to try and think of a better one, but don’t think there is.
Reminds me more and more of The Great KD Walters as the years press on.
The poise, the footwork, the accuracy, the flashing blade, not to mention the murderous intent, as he puts his head as still as a stone over the ball like Tom Watson at the tee with a No.3 wood in his hand.
The sound of the thwack of leather on willow as it hits the sweet spot, the fieldsmen turned on their heels as the ball glides effortlessly to the boundary, the bowler looking aggrieved when its his own fault, the luscious juiciness of the result, is what got me in from day one.
Still vividly remember the days when he made plenty in the first innings and then smacked a big second innings hundred at Newcastle No.1 back in 2002/2003 with Mark Waugh batting at the other end.
Sublime & sublime.
The quintessential elegance of the cover drive back then hasn’t changed a bit after all these years.
It’s just that the grace and finesse has got better.
Never mind that he spooned a limp-wristed shot to a well laid trap in the first innings, or that he lost his second innings off peg in a flight of fancy to a bog ordinary spinner; in a miserable set of circumstances at Lords, where the dirty rotten cheats at the MCC conspired with the Evil Umpires to rob Straya blind of any chance, at least Pup was one of the very few to hold his head up high as he strode back through the Long Room to see the bloke with the little paintbrush and the pot of gold paint on his stepladder inscribing Clarke, M.J. in gilt on the honour board of test match century makers at the ground.
Just a pity he couldn’t grasp the nettle and go on to become a certified National Hero.
There’s time for that.
Played, son.

the next one to go

Apologists,

No Hall.
No cigar.
Season over.
As simple as that.
Even the supercoach has said as much.
Quite startled to read in the Tuesday morning fishwraps that SC Roos had publicly conceded the likelihood of missing the finals for the first time since 2002 was now a dead set certainty, even though the club is yet to slip into the nether world of mathematical calculations.
It’s something SC Sheens, just for instance, would never admit to publicly.
Then again, if you are turned over by a side of the likes of Essendon to the tune of five goals for the Marn Grook Trophy, there is probably no use in pretending anymore.
St Paul also foreshadowed that the pogrom will be well and truly on in coming weeks as a number of shoulders will be tapped, old crocks will be ruthlessly cast aside, the lame and the crippled will be pushed out of the igloo, more names added to the column headed DELIST, and younger players given ample opportunity to “show their wares in the top grade”.
But what youngsters?
From where?
Wonder what this year’s draft picks are up to?
Are they still injured and struggling through a Melbourne winter in short pants?
The Veszpremi kiddie, who’s had a couple of decent games in the past few weeks, was a draft pick of a couple of years ago, maybe even three years ago, so he’s been a long time coming on.
Noted that Jesse “James” White [who some crazed supreme optimists have foolishly dubbed as the new “white Goodes”] kicked 11 goals last week in the seconds against the mighty Tuggeranong outfit, and is crying out for a game in the seniors, but as for Mike Pyke, the former Canadian rugby “star”, holding some sort of future as a handy ruckman, well sorry, serious students of the game don’t rate him as anything more than having the potential to become an ordinary journeyman.
It’s a long row to hoe when your year is condemned by the main mentor as a write-off just a little way past the half way mark in the season.
Any rookies the Swans are able to pluck out of thin air will be eaten alive by the likes of Geelong and St Kilda over coming weeks, and with an it’s-all-buggered frame of mind instilled in the team by no less than the main mentor, Sydney is now in real danger of becoming a Fremantle-style laughing stock.
With such a defeatist attitude, at Sunday morning smoko by the magic waters, SC Roos, as he gazed out to sea, stroked his chin, and ran his fingers through what hair he has remaining – would have been having a good ponder, and the thought must have crossed his mind “am I the next one to go?”, surely?
Good to see that the club did in fact load BBB Hall into the back of a ute for a single lap of dishonour at the G.
But it came far too early for mine, with the suppurating sores still too raw.
My spy at the ground suggested that Bazza was about as popular as the recently deceased Robert “Dolly” Dunne as his single vehicle cavalcade passed the bays housing the rapidly dwindling ranks of Swans members.
To quote:
“The silence from the long suffering faithful in the stands on the western side of the SCG told the story. Who cares? Fukc off. You let the team down. We need you to be lining up at half forward today. Who cares about past glory? A tear welled in his empty eyes as he was paraded like a sideshow freak. I felt sorry for the bastard. But the Swans couldn't care less about how a broken man feels? Just get out of the Club! Now!”They should have waited for the St Kilda game for Hally’s tribute as he’s probably got more friends at the Saints for leaving the club when he did, than he does in Sydney right now.
Next thing, he’ll be lining up against Aussie Joe “I went twelve rounds with Ali” Bugner to slug it for the Australian heavyweight title at some sort of Rooty Hill RSL club rag tag fight night.
Five bucks in, and all the cheap beer you can drink.

SYDNEY: 4.2, 5.8, 7.11, 10.12 (72). Goals: O’Loughlin 3, Veszpremi 2, Roberts-Thomson, Goodes, O’Keefe, Barlow, Crouch
ESSENDON: 4.6, 8.8, 12.12, 15.17 (107). Goals: Lloyd 3, Winderlich 3, Lucas 3, Dyson 2, Reimers, Lonergan, Welsh, Stanton
At Sydney Cricket Ground.
Crowd: 30,924.

Easiest two premiership points of the year for sitting around and doing nothing.
This Sunday afternoon’s 2005 grand final rematch against the Cowboys at the Spiritual Home of Balmain rugby league, which this year happens to be 11th v 5th, will no doubt be season defining.
Might even make an effort to get on the 445 bus.

WESTS TIGERS: Bye.

Clark, Clarke & Co.

Willowists,

And the hopeless jokes purporting to run the game are seriously talking about four day test matches??
Bah! Humbug!
Bring back timeless tests.
Make ‘em battle it out to the death.
Ban the draw!
Or-Straya made a fundamental fatal mistake before a ball was even bowled in the Cardiff test match for mine, by not picking Clark No-E.
Why on earth would you leave out a bloke who is ideally suited to the conditions, has form on English tracks, heart, hates Poms and loves the Baggy Green?
Unforgiveable.
No-E would have tidied up the Pommy tail on the second morning instead of bleeding 99 runs, and would have won the match for you any time you liked on day five, if only he was asked, instead of seeing a platinum opportunity to take a priceless one-nil lead in a five match series go begging.
The tragedy is that barring anyone completely dropping their bundle, Stuart Clark now probably won’t get a game this tour, and will be condemned to rearranging the tumblers of well chilled gin & tonic on the dressing room silver drinks platter.
Still, no use crying over spilt milk, and in the final paralysis, the Poms have absolutely nothing at all to celebrate as they go to Headquarters.
Pleasing to see that MJ Clarke has left nothing of his talent and technique in South Africa, or at home for that matter.
However he did end up quietly frothing at the mouth about not managing to go on and score a big hundred, when a matter-of-fact ton was staring him in the face at 83 not out.
Suitably booted himself up the arse in the Monday morning fishwraps.
Still punching the cover drives and the classical straight drives, as well as the usual trademark off cutting off the back foot that give the field out there absolutely no chance at all,
while the pull shot off the spinners seems to have come back into his canon for this series.
And why not?
Can be an almost risk free profit on the scoreboard in the hands of a proper professional.
As always, impeccable footwork and seeing the ball like a footy with an eye like a dead fish.
He would have been filthy with himself about the shot he got out to -- for once his footwork deserted him and he found himself shuffling across the crease and then cramped for room by a short ball, only to watch the dolly fly away for a simple chance.
Silly.
Seems Pup has been drawn even closer into the inner circle this series as the board of directors continues to groom him for the captaincy.
Did like him playfully pretending to call the batsmen in well before Punter made the actual declaration, appearing on the balcony with his skipper at all the right moments etc, still, there were some terse exchanges as the Captain and Vice-Captain fielded at first and second slip late on day five and appeared to argue over what eventually became some rather bizarre bowling changes at the dénouement.
Doubt that Pup would have accepted any responsibility for the morning session on day two.
Suppose that’s the luxury to have when you are not actually in charge.
Bring on Lords for another round of the finest sight in world sport – Poms being ground into dust.