Showing posts with label Sport. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Sport. Show all posts

29 June 2011

Things I love this week and things I don't



So this week it's been an intriguing mix of loving things and really hating things. Let's begin by simply listing the things this week that I have loved and then flesh the post out with further details: Jelly Babies obviously, Sammiches, Victoria Azarenka (Rrrrroooooooooooooooar), Pampas baby wipes.

Now at first glance it's not an extensive list, but it's been enough to keep me occupied. Jelly babies and sammiches are a standing positive so no further discussion needed on them, but Azarenka is someone we only became familiar with when Wimbledon began so let's discuss her.

Going back a few years I seem to recall a male tennis player commenting on how the women players were all pigs. I think he actually did call them pigs. He might have been Australian. And at the time, I think even the women were sort of looking at each other and agreeing he had a point.

These were the days of Arancha Sanchez Vicario who really was more swine than woman. For this reason I've never paid any attention to the women's game, which means I've paid no attention to the game of tennis at all as it is of course a woman's game and should not be played by men.

Fast forward a decade or so and there seems to have been some changes. Where has this new breed of no-pinters evolved from? Were the Vicarios of the tennis world screened out by the tennis authorities via a sophisticated programme of genetic engineering?

They've done a cracking job. It's mostly eastern European and Russian DNA that has been used it seems. There's an evolutionary reason for this, we touched upon on the previous blog. It's something to do with how the eastern European male genes are weaker than the females, as all the strong healthy men from the Soviet Union countries all spent decades at war and left the ugly infirm crazies at home with all the women folk.

So the females, sat at home all pampered and playing nice with each other and their genes became dominant producing millions of blonde 6 footers who all went on to either play tennis or do porn and the men were all deformed 5ft dwarfs with low foreheads and stubby noses predominately called Andrei.

Anyway, so this explains the Azarenka woman. A mixture of warrior and porn star. Awesome. She's engineered to sexually dominate her mate. And when he lays sated and exhausted she then snaps his neck with one hand and inherits all his money with the other. It's a win win situation! If only I was rich, what a way to go.


I also love Pampas baby wipes as they can be used to clean furniture, hands, toilet seats and my face - in that order.

Now then..things this week I've hated. Johann Hari.

I'm taking deep breaths as I type this such is my struggle to remain composed. Where to start..so Johann was caught fabricating his interviews.

Caught however is not the word. He admitted to it, he explained in a blog post how he inserts previous quotes from his interviewees if they're struggling to articulate themselves during his interviews with them.

Ironically I can't fully articulate myself how wrong this man's creativity is without cutting and pasting other peoples thoughts on the matter. He's simply an utter hypocrite and cunt is all I can manage at this time.

He won't accept that his "intellectual portraits" are a betrayal of the most fundamental standards we ought to be able to expect from journalists. This man has won the Orwell prize for fucks sake. How ridiculous does that seem now? Orwell could have written about him.

What reeeeally irritates me about this, is how this lefty hummus eating holier than thou sandal wearing son of a Swiss bus driver, has set himself up as the paradigm of journalistic integrity.

Any right wing journalist caught doing this would be savaged. If Peter Hitchens had been found lifting great blocks of text from all over the place and passing it off as his own he'd be dead by now. They'd have brought back hanging just for him. They'd have shown it after the tennis.

It's all dismissed as justifiable however by the left, if the essential truth, the greater truth is told. Usually only a mad communist dictator in fatigues could use language like this and keep a straight face. What truth? Who's truth? How can something that's been manipulated, altered, doctored, massaged and sexed up be the truth?

Tosser.

It's not for Mr Hari to decide what we ought to be reading or reading into something. If an interviewee is inarticulate, hesitant, or babbling then this in itself is information. It's a part of the interview, part of the truth. The greater sodding truth. You can't just edit it all out and replace it with a polished speech the person made a few years ago because you felt this was what they meant to say...especially when the interviewee is one of your leftie heroes who you want to portray in a positive light.

This is what I hate about lefties. When they are caught red-handed lying, cheating, or just being wankers - everything they indiscriminately accuse Conservative types of, there's always a higher purpose. It's never as bad as something Richard Littlejohn said last week in the Daily Mail.

Well now it seems there's a higher power even than Johann, one reaps what one sows and it is time for him to pay the piper and other mixed metaphors I can't be bothered to lift from Google.

His career is being examined with a fine tooth comb and with every hour that passes new and more astonishing bullshit is emerging. I'm guessing all his Iraq stuff is bollocks, I'm doubting he's been within 50 miles of a war zone. It's likely every serious interview he's ever conducted with have these embellishments in them, or just made up entirely, which makes his entire career a fabrication. I hope he ends up driving his father's bus.

30 December 2010

Ashes



Now I don't want to sound like a spoilsport, but England haven't actually secured an Ashes victory yet have they, so why the silly dancing? I know of no other nation that would so enthusiastically celebrate not losing.

They have merely retained the Ashes. The fact remains that if everything cricketologists have been saying about both sides is true, then an Australian win in the final test of this series will make those premature celebrations all seem rather embarrassing. An awesome series will quickly turn into a disaster.

This England team is apparently one of the best England teams for years and years and years, while the Australian team is bloody useless and one of their worst for decades. Yet if the Aussies win the final test then we have a drawn series. Which makes those sprinkler dance celebrations look a bit stoopid.

19 December 2010

SPOTY

I haven't watched the BBC Sports Personality of the Year show since the two most important days of the year for me were the FA Cup final and Christmas day, but since I have abandoned my plans to play the Abingdon Christmas poker event tonight due to being snowed in and I am also running out of cowboy films, it's highly likely I'll be watching it tonight.

Obviously I'll have to have a bet, so I did some preliminary research into how the voting is cast and who the favourites are. Well I have to say I haven't been confronted by so much crap since the one and only time I've ever changed a babies nappy.

Did you know for example that Ryan Giggs won it last year!! Ryan Giggs, what did he do to deserve it? Were they so short of 'personalities' they had to pick a hairy Welshman who can't play two games in a row anymore because he gets tired?

It became clear this award is settled with a public vote and all the United fans must have just piled in. Although why they didn't vote for Rooney who seemed a more obvious choice I'm still not clear. I'd like to know if Giggs was favourite to win on the day of the show so I shall do some further research on this.

Of the current batch I was surprised nay baffled by the inclusion of Tony McCoy and astonished to see him trading as 1.5 clear favourite on the Betfairs. I assumed wrongly, the winners had to be British (isn't there an overseas personality award?).

No doubting the boy McCoy deserves some recognition for his achievements, but a crappy trophy handed out by an increasingly irrelevant BBC that no one surely cares about anymore is hardly fitting. Also, excluding racing and gamblesmiths does anyone really know who he is?

Having given the favourites a once over without knowing the prices available, I assumed Graeme Swann and Lee Westwood would be the favourites what with Europe winning the Ryder Cup and Westwood over taking the semi-professional sexoligist Tiger Woods as world number one Golfist and also of course the Ashes being played at the moment and Swann being number one spinner.

But no! Swann is 170.0 on Betfair and Westwood something like 30.0! Cwazy. Has this already been decided or sommink? In case I can't be arsed to do any further research I'm going to have a few shillings on these two anyway.

I've now lost interest in this so I'm going to end here and watch Star Trek and eat some rice pudding. What about you?

24 November 2010

In the clink



Ashes tonight woooo! Love the Ashes when the Aussies are hosting as it's on at a reasonable time of the night. Can't stand it when it's in England and you're having to get up and God awful times of the day and can't even keep your eyes open cause the sun gets in 'em. Urghh.

Being English I'm obviously neutral, but I like to pick a team to give myself an interest other than a betting one. For my American readers let me just explain the Ashes. It's contested every two years. Originally it was contested between England and her Majesties penal colony of Australia. Recently though it's become Australia versus an amalgamation of her Majesties other colonies - predominantly South Africa and India, with perhaps an English Captain to boss them about.

I hate South Africans. I think I hate South Africans more than the French. At least the French are cowards and easily defeated. South Africans have a unique gene that makes them remorselessly evil bastards who exist only to cause as much pain and suffering on the rest of the world as is physically and psychologically possible.

They can usually only do this though in the comfort and safety of their own dungeons and purpose built slums. Out in Australia though they'll be out of their comfort zone. If you've ever walked or driven past a prison and felt the harshness and intimidating imposing feel of the place, you'll have an appreciation for how visiting teams feel when they land in Australia.

There's some irony here. "England" prisoners behind their own bars. Aha aha ahahahahahahahahaahahahahahahaha

Er..anyway, I'm backing Australia -1.5 tests on the handicaps 3-1 win or 4-1 will do nicely.

Welcome to Australia

**I've changed my mind betting wise, I've backed England to not win a test at 10/3.


27 September 2010

Cobra found on tennis court


Just a few more days now until so many potential disasters are realised before an audience of literally hundreds. I speak not of the European team's Ryder Cup capitulation, but of course the Commonwealth Games.

Today's series of t'internet scaremongering stories include a Cobra being found on a tennis court and a dead scorpion found in an athlete's shoe. Scorpions must have a shocking sense of smell if they couldn't detect the sweaty pungent odour of an athletes trainer.

I get nervous when I come across a harmless UK house spider, only the lord our Gah knows what sort of venomous beasties these people will find in their living quarters over the next few weeks. A dude has already found what was described as "a large snake" in his room.

A large snake in the UK might mean 6-12 inches. In India if a snake is described as large it's probably visible from space. I bet there's wild monkey's all over the place and cockroaches the size of dinner plates. Awesome. It's exactly what you need after a hard day's competition; to come back to your room and find a rabid monkey on your bed eating pizza and channel hoping while flinging his shit about the place.

I hope the BBC don't try and ignore this stuff. It's all part of the Indian experience after all. Just like the World Cup in South Africa where they went deep into the townships to patronise the locals, I hope they have a series of special reports examining the many ways you can die in India without even really trying.

I'd like to see Denise Lewis with a python wrapped around her for example, while that irritating twat in the BBC bus attempts a series of challenges emailed in by viewers along the lines of sitting in a ditch for 20 seconds and then negotiating the traffic on a bicycle to the nearest medical facility before his skin rots away.

23 September 2010

It was never going to be a success

The Commonwealth stadium in a couple of weeks

I had no idea the Commonwealth Games was about to start, but thanks to a series of safety concerns ranging from the threat of terrorism, to the threat of the the various venues collapsing because they were all built by a team of child labourers with bricks made from wet newspaper and elephant dung, I can't wait for them to begin.

Let's face it now, we all have a morbid fascination with disasters. Any news story containing the words "stampede" or "crush" or "death toll" has a guaranteed captivated audience. I suspect in fact that these safety issues were all dreamed up by the organisers to boost the ratings for a games which surely would have been largely ignored, and also to give the local athletes a chance of not coming last in every event if they can get almost all other nations to pull out.

I for one will tuning in each day hoping to witness an horrific disaster. I could Sky+ it all, but it's not the same unless it's live is it. The best action I hear should come from the weight lifting venue where the roof has been constructed with a newly discovered metal heavier than plutonium, while the walls are made from a planks of wood held together with selotape.

I'm not sure whose bright idea it was to award the games to India in the first place. A country with a worse rail network than England's, where the Bubonic plague is still rife and almost entire villages can be wiped out when someone burps, is surely not the ideal environment for finely tuned athletes or teams from the Commonwealth to exhibit their talents.

The high speed rail link from the athletes village to the stadium. A journey of four miles
which would usually take two days will now only take 18 hours.


I'm sure India are doing their best and will find a way to make the games a success. After all, this is a country where 99% of it's population seem to live in conditions that make a ditch in Glasgow seem like the lobby of a five star hotel in Dubai, but also some how has financed a Space program. A country of contradictions is putting it mildly.

It'll be difficult for the athletes to perform at their peak if they've been up all night shitting blood and sweating out Madras sauce and panicking every time they hear a creak in the ceiling, but if anyone can make these games a success in the face of such adverse conditions it's India.

With this in mind, I'm betting the spread on death tolls; under 5500.5 for spectators at 6/5 and for athletes under 25.5 at 11/10

6 September 2010

What a surprise


Andy Murray has just lost and is sulking as we speak. Annabel and Greg are perplexed. They don't understand how he just lost or what just happened. They of course don't read this blog. As we alluded to in my post on September 4th: here, we have all the info on Murray; we know why he messed up today and it was of no surprise to us when he suddenly suffered a mysterious injury after being a set up and 3-0 up in the second set and ultimately bombed out of the tournament to a no mark dude with a massive name. All will be revealed shortly.

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1 September 2010

Wednesday's any other business

Is it me or does young Laura Robson bare an uncanny
resemblance to Annabel Croft when she was of a similar age?

The equation I have always used to determine whether a young miss is a viable target or not is simply to halve my age and add my shoe size. So a 25 year old is currently the youngest in theory I'd be comfortable taking over the jumps without questions of exploitation and grooming plaguing me post-coitally.

Obviously young Laura at 16 or 17 is way out of bounds, but I have to confess if she and Annabel Croft stopped buy seeking out a little mother-daughter tag-team I'd be all for it. I enjoy a bit of role-playing; I'd play the strict headmaster who has given naughty Laura a detention and called her Mother in to explain the situation. We'd discuss how to discipline her but they'd both just end up educating me in so many appalling and moist ways.


In other news the Stig from Top Gear is Ben someone...and contrary to how BBC executives types feel about his identity becoming public, no one in fact gives a shit. Fans of the show may have cared for a few months or been mildly intrigued by it six or seven years ago, but in fact the significance of this piece of news has been over-exaggerated much to the same degree as Jeremy Clarkeson has always exaggerated how important ones car is when on the pull.

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24 August 2010

Straight outta LA


These ESPN 30 for 30 documentaries are very good. If you haven't seen the "Two Escobars" one, you must seek it out. Tonight on ESPN America at 8pm it's 'Straight Outta L.A.' the story of the Raiders teams of the mid 80's and the growth of gangster rap and the wearing of the pirate logo stuff by the gangs in LA and the shooting of each other in the evenings and so on.

At that time in my life I was still playing with Lego so I wasn't into gangster rap, and I still remember sulking when the Raiders beat the Redskins in the Superbowl in 1984, but I enjoyed this documentary and I recommend you watch it if you access to the ESPN's, even if you're not into Mercan football or don't have any Ice Cube LPs.

(I'm laughing at the use LPs as we speak)



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12 August 2010

3D or not 3D, is that the question?


Do I need a 3D ready TV? The telly I have at present isn't even HD ready, so I thought to myself, I thought, if I'm going to upgrade why not really upgrade. It could well be that darts in 3D is the life experience I have needed all this time to fill the intangible void in my very being.

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