On Australia Day, the Socceroos gave their nation one of the greatest football gifts she could hope for: a place in the Asian Cup final.
Australia humiliated Uzbekistan 6-0 at Khalifa Stadium, Qatar, to qualify for their first major tournament decider since the 1997 Confederations Cup.
Harry Kewell opened the scoring before Sasa Ognenovski, David Carney, Brett Emerton, Carl Valeri and Robbie Kruse completed the demolition.
There was a satisfying synchronicity on the scoresheet - Kewell played in the Confederations Cup showpiece of a sporting generation ago, while Kruise was making just his second appearance in national colours.
One went to Europe before he could legally drive a car or drink a beer. The other is still plying his trade in our resurrected domestic league.
They represent the journey the sport has made Down Under over what has felt like both a lifetime and a moment.
Gone are the days when the men in green and gold could wistfully dream of winning silverware on the world stage - they will return to the same venue on Sunday with the nation's inaugural continental title one game away.
While the territory will be new, awaiting them will be an old enemy: Japan, who defeated South Korea on penalties in the other semi-final.
Australia owe Japan one on this stage - the Blue Samurai ended their maiden Asian Cup voyage in the quarter-finals four years ago.
But the three-time Asian champions also have scars that need the soothing balm only glory can provide - they were the first team to lose to Australia at a World Cup.
Asia's two best teams, doing battle for the continent's biggest prize. The stakes couldn't be higher.
Japan will be looking to reclaim the trophy they deemed their own after tournament victories in 2000 and 2004.
Australia have the chance to erase, once and for all, all the heartbreak that has bedevilled the world game on this continent.
Think of the 32 years we spent in the World Cup wilderness. The decline and fall of the old NSL. The embarrassment of being bundled out of the 2007 Asian Cup after starting as arrogant, underprepared favourites. Being thrashed by Germany in South Africa. The last-gasp loss to Italy four years earlier. Obtaining one vote to host the 2022 World Cup.
Even the Confederations Cup final of 14 years ago even ended in tears, thanks to a 6-0 hiding from Brazil.
Before joining and hopefully soon conquering Asia, Australia's moments of triumph were farcical - as part of the Oceania Confederation, they ran up cricket scores against the likes of American Samoa, Tonga and the Cook Islands.
All the bitterness, all the misery, all the sham triumphs can all be washed away, with one victory.
Australia has already forged its reputation on football's most diverse continent - the Matildas are the reigning women's champions and the under 19s only lost their decider in the last, but one, minute of extra time.
Which will it be for Holger Osieck's men?
If yesterday's performance was any indication, it will be glory.
Australia didn't just defeat the Uzbeks, they crushed them. Just as Spain, Germany, Brazil and Argentina would crush an inferior opponent.
Once upon a time, we were the roadkill. Now, we are the juggernaut.
Soon, we could be the champions.
Advance Australia Fair.
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
My Favourite Sportspeople - Ian Healy
Tests: 119 matches, 4356 runs at 27.39, 100s 4, 50s 22, HS 161*, catches 366, stumpings 29.
ODIs: 168 matches, 1764 runs at 21.00, 100s 0, 50s 4, HS 56, catches 194, stumpings 39.
Australia Day is an appropriate day to pay tribute to my favourite sportsperson of all time - long-time Australian wicketkeeper Ian Healy, who was as proud an Aussie I have seen.
Heals, simply put, was the greatest wicketkeeper I saw pull on a baggy green cap. Others say Adam Gilchrist was the best wicketkeeper-batsman of all time (with the emphasis on batsman), and more than one of Healy's contemporaries said Pommie Jack Russell or Victorian Darren Berry were better behind the sticks.
While I respect their judgment, there is no one I would rather watch do his thing - in any sport, anywhere, anytime - than Ian Healy.
Allow me a slight tangent - cricket means a lot to me. It was the only sport I played to anything resembling a decent level and surprise, surprise, it was as a wicketkeeper.
Needless to say, Healy's exploits in 119 Tests and 168 ODIs were a source of awe, pride, joy and shame for me.
Shame, you say? Was it the infamous run-in with portly Sri Lankan skipper Arjuna Ranatunga at the SCG in 1996 (the words "unfit c---" may have been involved)? No way. Perhaps it was a blow-up with Windies opener Desmond Haynes back in 1991? Not a chance. What about a botched stumping that still cost Brian Lara his wicket in the first Test of the 1992-93 series? I couldn't care less. Surely it was another missed stumping, one that lost Australia the first Test of an away series in Pakistan in 1994. Nope.
It was that I was never going to be as good as him, no matter how hard I tried.
When I was playing, I didn't want to be like Ian Healy. I wanted to be him. It was like an itch I couldn't scratch. A thirst I couldn't quench. The sinking, awful feeling of failure and futility that couldn't be exorcised.
Countless were the times over 19 years playing cricket that coaches, team-mates, onlookers and even opponents tried to console me after making a mistake with the gloves.
As comforting as their words were, they couldn't shake the thought that monopolised my mind.
"Ian Healy wouldn't have missed/dropped/fumbled that."
It hurt. Watching a bloke do unheard of things behind the stumps (anyone remember his legside stumping of Mark Butcher off Michael Bevan in the 1997 Ashes?) then go out and dishonour him by committing routine errors was torture.
... that I was 14 at the time wasn't the point. It never would be.
Unrealistic? Of course. Unhealthy? Psychologists would say so.
But I digress.
Healy was described by a far greater writer than me - Greg Baum from the Age - as a palpable force behind the stumps. Therein lies my admiration for him. Usually the nicest thing said about keepers is that they are only noticed when they don't make mistakes. Healy was one of the pillars of Australia's climb from easybeats to the very summit of world cricket. He would 'take' wickets by himself.
The Butcher stumping mentioned above was one of many that Healy completed to the likes of Bevan, Stuart MacGill, Tim May and Shane Warne. There were some real good ones - down the legside, on the half-volley, on the full and only after seeing the ball at the very last moment. All to balls scuttling at uncertain heights and angles out of heavy footmarks. If you have never kept wickets in your life, the previous sentence would have meant little. If you have, it would mean the world.
Healy's catches to the slowies were pretty special too - in the 1997 Ashes he dived behind himself to snare one after the ball was cut into his knee.
Funnily enough, his brilliance up to the pegs was so routine that it one standing back that really sticks in my mind.
In Adelaide in 1997 he caught a South African after the Saffer left his bat sticking up like a periscope while ducking a bouncer. The ball took an unexpected and wicked deflection and Heals dived down the legside to bag it. Brilliant. Genius. Impossible.
Diving in front of first slip to catch one that wouldn't have quite carried was his specialty. All reports indicate that he claimed one like that in his very first Test, against Pakistan in 1988. Same thing in a rematch at the MCG a year later. Plenty after that as McDermott, Hughes, Reid, McGrath and Gillespie starting running through the world's batting line-ups.
I haven't written a word about his batting - Monet could probably write sonnets too, but what's the point? Okay, I'll indulge you. There was a six to win a Test match against the Saffers and Test tons against England (twice), New Zealand and the West Indies. The latter came as calls for him to be dropped started. Performing under pressure.
His most just reward came in Pakistan in 1998 - the country where he performed his most galling error when he broke the world record for dismissals in Test cricket. Although it wasn't a measure of greatness per se, it was a well deserved honour for the most-overlooked players in cricket.
It wasn't just his skill that I loved - it was that he was a fighter with a tremendous work ethic. He was plucked from Queensland obscurity to play Test cricket because of his never-say-die character. He amazed team-mates by going to dilapidated squash courts, hotel car parks and even lane ways to practice his golf ball drill.
Ah, the golf ball. Sitting on the desk where I am writing are two scarred, shredded golf balls. Guess how they got so pockmarked and worn? Trying to be like Ian Healy, using Ian Healy's methods. Stand on a flat surface, with a brick wall near by. Bounce said ball off said wall, practicing your footwork and hand movements. Become the best in the world. The best in history.
I tried. I loved every minute of it. But I just couldn't do it.
Healy was durable. Although he retired with hands that looked like someone had smashed in with a sledgehammer, he missed one Test match through injury. Amazing. His autobiographies (both of which I own) are littered with stories of shaking off the pain of a broken finger to play in a Test match the next day.
You try it. Break one of your fingers, then go see if you can catch a cricket ball travelling at somewhere near 140km/h for the best part of five days on end. It's torture.
As mentioned, Healy was a fighter. I outlined some of his most notorious incidents earlier. In short, he helped Australia add a hard edge to their game after years in the doldrums. And Arjuna was a fat c---.
Proud Aussie? Absolutely. Heals held for a long time an honour that is almost as big as the captaincy - leading the team in its famous victory song, 'Beneath the Southern Cross I stand'. Word has it Healy lived for these celebrations after famous wins - think the 1989 Ashes, the 1995 Frank Worrell Trophy and a heap of other series.
In the modest success I enjoyed during my beyond mediocre cricket career, I subscribed to the same 'play hard, party hard' mentality. Big wins were to be savoured, big drinks were to be consumed.
There was one fleeting, incredible moment where I had a chance to feel the same thing Healy felt through most of his career.
It was in my last full season. We were playing a team that was not in contention for the finals, while we needed an outright. A batsman who was on track to win the competition batting average was putting up some dogged resistance. The deck was flat and lifeless and precious minutes were slipping away.
Our captain - a slightly cranky, medium-fast bowler - insisted I come up to the stumps to his offerings to build pressure and keep the left-hander in his crease.
I hated standing up to even the most gentle of medium pacers - my inability to replicate Healy had my confidence shot. Nevertheless, I trudged up and did some neat work.
After a few overs, skipper sent one down the legside to the leftie. Slightly panicked, I moved to the legside, legs low and strong, just like Heals.
SNICK
A leg glance only got as far as my gloves (with Brad Haddin signature - SWERVE!) and stuck.
A miracle.
While my team-mates mobbed me, hugged me, showered me with kisses (we were close) only one thought went through my mind.
"Ian Healy wouldn't have got to that one."
ODIs: 168 matches, 1764 runs at 21.00, 100s 0, 50s 4, HS 56, catches 194, stumpings 39.
Australia Day is an appropriate day to pay tribute to my favourite sportsperson of all time - long-time Australian wicketkeeper Ian Healy, who was as proud an Aussie I have seen.
Heals, simply put, was the greatest wicketkeeper I saw pull on a baggy green cap. Others say Adam Gilchrist was the best wicketkeeper-batsman of all time (with the emphasis on batsman), and more than one of Healy's contemporaries said Pommie Jack Russell or Victorian Darren Berry were better behind the sticks.
While I respect their judgment, there is no one I would rather watch do his thing - in any sport, anywhere, anytime - than Ian Healy.
Allow me a slight tangent - cricket means a lot to me. It was the only sport I played to anything resembling a decent level and surprise, surprise, it was as a wicketkeeper.
Needless to say, Healy's exploits in 119 Tests and 168 ODIs were a source of awe, pride, joy and shame for me.
Shame, you say? Was it the infamous run-in with portly Sri Lankan skipper Arjuna Ranatunga at the SCG in 1996 (the words "unfit c---" may have been involved)? No way. Perhaps it was a blow-up with Windies opener Desmond Haynes back in 1991? Not a chance. What about a botched stumping that still cost Brian Lara his wicket in the first Test of the 1992-93 series? I couldn't care less. Surely it was another missed stumping, one that lost Australia the first Test of an away series in Pakistan in 1994. Nope.
It was that I was never going to be as good as him, no matter how hard I tried.
When I was playing, I didn't want to be like Ian Healy. I wanted to be him. It was like an itch I couldn't scratch. A thirst I couldn't quench. The sinking, awful feeling of failure and futility that couldn't be exorcised.
Countless were the times over 19 years playing cricket that coaches, team-mates, onlookers and even opponents tried to console me after making a mistake with the gloves.
As comforting as their words were, they couldn't shake the thought that monopolised my mind.
"Ian Healy wouldn't have missed/dropped/fumbled that."
It hurt. Watching a bloke do unheard of things behind the stumps (anyone remember his legside stumping of Mark Butcher off Michael Bevan in the 1997 Ashes?) then go out and dishonour him by committing routine errors was torture.
... that I was 14 at the time wasn't the point. It never would be.
Unrealistic? Of course. Unhealthy? Psychologists would say so.
But I digress.
Healy was described by a far greater writer than me - Greg Baum from the Age - as a palpable force behind the stumps. Therein lies my admiration for him. Usually the nicest thing said about keepers is that they are only noticed when they don't make mistakes. Healy was one of the pillars of Australia's climb from easybeats to the very summit of world cricket. He would 'take' wickets by himself.
The Butcher stumping mentioned above was one of many that Healy completed to the likes of Bevan, Stuart MacGill, Tim May and Shane Warne. There were some real good ones - down the legside, on the half-volley, on the full and only after seeing the ball at the very last moment. All to balls scuttling at uncertain heights and angles out of heavy footmarks. If you have never kept wickets in your life, the previous sentence would have meant little. If you have, it would mean the world.
Healy's catches to the slowies were pretty special too - in the 1997 Ashes he dived behind himself to snare one after the ball was cut into his knee.
Funnily enough, his brilliance up to the pegs was so routine that it one standing back that really sticks in my mind.
In Adelaide in 1997 he caught a South African after the Saffer left his bat sticking up like a periscope while ducking a bouncer. The ball took an unexpected and wicked deflection and Heals dived down the legside to bag it. Brilliant. Genius. Impossible.
Diving in front of first slip to catch one that wouldn't have quite carried was his specialty. All reports indicate that he claimed one like that in his very first Test, against Pakistan in 1988. Same thing in a rematch at the MCG a year later. Plenty after that as McDermott, Hughes, Reid, McGrath and Gillespie starting running through the world's batting line-ups.
I haven't written a word about his batting - Monet could probably write sonnets too, but what's the point? Okay, I'll indulge you. There was a six to win a Test match against the Saffers and Test tons against England (twice), New Zealand and the West Indies. The latter came as calls for him to be dropped started. Performing under pressure.
His most just reward came in Pakistan in 1998 - the country where he performed his most galling error when he broke the world record for dismissals in Test cricket. Although it wasn't a measure of greatness per se, it was a well deserved honour for the most-overlooked players in cricket.
It wasn't just his skill that I loved - it was that he was a fighter with a tremendous work ethic. He was plucked from Queensland obscurity to play Test cricket because of his never-say-die character. He amazed team-mates by going to dilapidated squash courts, hotel car parks and even lane ways to practice his golf ball drill.
Ah, the golf ball. Sitting on the desk where I am writing are two scarred, shredded golf balls. Guess how they got so pockmarked and worn? Trying to be like Ian Healy, using Ian Healy's methods. Stand on a flat surface, with a brick wall near by. Bounce said ball off said wall, practicing your footwork and hand movements. Become the best in the world. The best in history.
I tried. I loved every minute of it. But I just couldn't do it.
Healy was durable. Although he retired with hands that looked like someone had smashed in with a sledgehammer, he missed one Test match through injury. Amazing. His autobiographies (both of which I own) are littered with stories of shaking off the pain of a broken finger to play in a Test match the next day.
You try it. Break one of your fingers, then go see if you can catch a cricket ball travelling at somewhere near 140km/h for the best part of five days on end. It's torture.
As mentioned, Healy was a fighter. I outlined some of his most notorious incidents earlier. In short, he helped Australia add a hard edge to their game after years in the doldrums. And Arjuna was a fat c---.
Proud Aussie? Absolutely. Heals held for a long time an honour that is almost as big as the captaincy - leading the team in its famous victory song, 'Beneath the Southern Cross I stand'. Word has it Healy lived for these celebrations after famous wins - think the 1989 Ashes, the 1995 Frank Worrell Trophy and a heap of other series.
In the modest success I enjoyed during my beyond mediocre cricket career, I subscribed to the same 'play hard, party hard' mentality. Big wins were to be savoured, big drinks were to be consumed.
There was one fleeting, incredible moment where I had a chance to feel the same thing Healy felt through most of his career.
It was in my last full season. We were playing a team that was not in contention for the finals, while we needed an outright. A batsman who was on track to win the competition batting average was putting up some dogged resistance. The deck was flat and lifeless and precious minutes were slipping away.
Our captain - a slightly cranky, medium-fast bowler - insisted I come up to the stumps to his offerings to build pressure and keep the left-hander in his crease.
I hated standing up to even the most gentle of medium pacers - my inability to replicate Healy had my confidence shot. Nevertheless, I trudged up and did some neat work.
After a few overs, skipper sent one down the legside to the leftie. Slightly panicked, I moved to the legside, legs low and strong, just like Heals.
SNICK
A leg glance only got as far as my gloves (with Brad Haddin signature - SWERVE!) and stuck.
A miracle.
While my team-mates mobbed me, hugged me, showered me with kisses (we were close) only one thought went through my mind.
"Ian Healy wouldn't have got to that one."
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
Old School - ODI
Australia v South Africa
World Series Cup Final Game Two
SCG, 1998
Historical context: Possibly the game that led to Australia winning the 1999 World Cup. Yeah, yeah, two corresponding games at the actual tournament had a little bit to do with it, but if Australia lost back in 1998 things could have been VERY different come the real thing.
1997-1998 was the first home season Australia had a specialist one-day team - Test captain Mark Taylor was jettisoned in favour of Steve Waugh andCricket Jesus Ian Healy made way for a young wicketkeeper-bat Adam Gilchrist - mark that name, you may see a little bit more of it during this entry.
However, things were not rosy: the hosts had failed to defeat South Africa during the preliminary round - which also featured New Zealand - and dropped the first final to the Saffers. Waugh, apparently wilting under the pressure of captaincy, had made a string of single-figure scores. The man on the street and the media were begging for the return of at least Healy.
If Australia had lost this game - and the trophy - maybe Waugh would have lost the captaincy less than six months after he got it. Then, maybe we wouldn't have seen Tugga's immortal ton in the 1999 World Cup Super Sixes and 50 in the tied semi-final.
Fortunately, they didn't lose.
I arrived a bit late for this one from my proper job - when I turned on the TV who was taking strike but cricket's best (worst?) match fixer, South African skipper Hansie Cronje. He duly smacks Tom Moody over deep midwicket. Bookies haven't been on the phone today, I guess.
Ian Harvey - son of disgruntled former Invincibles rent-a-quote Neil Harvey - bowls at the other end. The best Ian Chappell can can say about his offerings is "mixed up". I'll write it in plainer terms - he was shite.
At the other end - Paul Wilson. F*ck me.
Boof Lehmann offers some left-arm tweakers. Good bloke, old Darren.
Warnie is still rocking the 1993-style step cut. No yeah yeah ... yet.
Rod Marsh is commentating - wow. He says Cronje looks embarrassed to get 50. I wonder why??
Jonty Rhodes - the most honest man in cricket - combined with Cronje for a big stand. As breathtaking as his fielding was he was boring at the crease, even in highlights.
Moody has a bit of a nightmare spell on the boundary - he dogs a catch, then lets one go for four between his legs, THEN misjudges a catch.
Finally, Long Tom catches Rhodes off Warnie, with a chorus of boos ringing in his ears.
The ground looks funny with no ropes around it.
Cronje launches a six onto the roof of the O'Reilly stand. Jury is still out on whether the fix is in. Bill Lawry breaks out the old telestrator to show the trajectory. Not as good as the crazy graphics they have these days.
Finally, Cronje holes out to Bevan off Warne for 73. Maybe he had an exotic on himself making less than 75? Would have been a handy collect.
Shaun Pollock replaces his captain and tries to sweep Paul Reiffel. Plumb.
Pat Symcox - a mediocre spinner, even worse as a sledger - is next man in. He had a whole roast chook thrown at him during the Australian summer. Mouthy bastard probably deserved it.
The Proteas (GREAT nickname, by the way - a flower ... VERY intimidating) finish on 6/228.
Richie Benaud's on the screen, looking very dapper in the off white - or is it bone? Or eggshell? Or beige? Or ivory? - jacket.
Gilchrist in his second ODI as Australian opener. His highest score to this point is 77. He starts smoking EVERYTHING. Mark Waugh joins the party. Australia off to a flier.
Waugh plays a glorious shot through extra cover. Smashed it. Then he chops on. Shit.
Ricky Ponting is in at three. Seth Efricen Tony Grieg claims Ian Harvey was a chance to bat at three. Shenanigans.
Dave Richardson is wearing some fugly brown keeping gloves. Allan Donald on to bowl. Pretty quick. Gilly greets him by thrashing him through mid-off.
Brian McMillian - featuring a 'business at the front, party at the back' haircut - he gets drilled by Punter.
Donald has pulled an ass muscle. Shenanigans. I reckon Hansie told his most dangerous bowler to get the f*ck off the ground because he has a game to fix. Or Donald doesn't fancy copping more stick off Gilchrist.
The immortal Darryl Cullinan is on to bowl some pies. Gilly takes at least 20 off his first over. Hmmmmm.
Gilchrist was public enemy No 1 when he replaced Heals in the one day team. He was booed onto the ground or this dig. Now they're chanting his name.
Symcox has a whinge when he has a LBW shout against Gilchrist turned down on 96. Whinge, whinge, f*cking whinge.
Gilchrist brings up his ton with a gay little dab down to third man. Kinda in conflict with the general mood of his knock.
He is dismissed when McMillian bowls him for 104 off 100 balls. Top knock. Maybe made his career. Australia need only 53 runs off a heap of balls.
Harvey is in at four. Wh--at?
Punter is trapped in front by Kluesner for 47. 3/184.
Boof is in. Starts by launching Kluesner through cover for four.
Australia need 19 off 66 balls. Hansie brings himself on to bowl. I am certain he had another exotic on Australia winning inside 42 overs.
Four byes by Richardson helps thebookmakers' Aussie cause. Then Harvey edges one for four ... to give Australia victory by eight wickets ... in 41.5 overs.
I'm guessing Hansie got some cash out of that one.
Australia went on to win the third final and the tournament, perpetuating a history of South African chokes in big events after dominating the preliminary stages. The 1996 World Cup, a 1997 ODI series against Australia on the veldt and some random tournament in India come to mind.
Regardless of whether he made this ton or not, Gilchrist would have eventually come through the ranks - but maybe not as quickly. Also, Steve Waugh may very well have been dumped as skipper if Australia lost. That could have robbed Australia of one of the best periods of its cricketing history.
World Series Cup Final Game Two
SCG, 1998
Historical context: Possibly the game that led to Australia winning the 1999 World Cup. Yeah, yeah, two corresponding games at the actual tournament had a little bit to do with it, but if Australia lost back in 1998 things could have been VERY different come the real thing.
1997-1998 was the first home season Australia had a specialist one-day team - Test captain Mark Taylor was jettisoned in favour of Steve Waugh and
However, things were not rosy: the hosts had failed to defeat South Africa during the preliminary round - which also featured New Zealand - and dropped the first final to the Saffers. Waugh, apparently wilting under the pressure of captaincy, had made a string of single-figure scores. The man on the street and the media were begging for the return of at least Healy.
If Australia had lost this game - and the trophy - maybe Waugh would have lost the captaincy less than six months after he got it. Then, maybe we wouldn't have seen Tugga's immortal ton in the 1999 World Cup Super Sixes and 50 in the tied semi-final.
Fortunately, they didn't lose.
I arrived a bit late for this one from my proper job - when I turned on the TV who was taking strike but cricket's best (worst?) match fixer, South African skipper Hansie Cronje. He duly smacks Tom Moody over deep midwicket. Bookies haven't been on the phone today, I guess.
Ian Harvey - son of disgruntled former Invincibles rent-a-quote Neil Harvey - bowls at the other end. The best Ian Chappell can can say about his offerings is "mixed up". I'll write it in plainer terms - he was shite.
At the other end - Paul Wilson. F*ck me.
Boof Lehmann offers some left-arm tweakers. Good bloke, old Darren.
Warnie is still rocking the 1993-style step cut. No yeah yeah ... yet.
Rod Marsh is commentating - wow. He says Cronje looks embarrassed to get 50. I wonder why??
Jonty Rhodes - the most honest man in cricket - combined with Cronje for a big stand. As breathtaking as his fielding was he was boring at the crease, even in highlights.
Moody has a bit of a nightmare spell on the boundary - he dogs a catch, then lets one go for four between his legs, THEN misjudges a catch.
Finally, Long Tom catches Rhodes off Warnie, with a chorus of boos ringing in his ears.
The ground looks funny with no ropes around it.
Cronje launches a six onto the roof of the O'Reilly stand. Jury is still out on whether the fix is in. Bill Lawry breaks out the old telestrator to show the trajectory. Not as good as the crazy graphics they have these days.
Finally, Cronje holes out to Bevan off Warne for 73. Maybe he had an exotic on himself making less than 75? Would have been a handy collect.
Shaun Pollock replaces his captain and tries to sweep Paul Reiffel. Plumb.
Pat Symcox - a mediocre spinner, even worse as a sledger - is next man in. He had a whole roast chook thrown at him during the Australian summer. Mouthy bastard probably deserved it.
The Proteas (GREAT nickname, by the way - a flower ... VERY intimidating) finish on 6/228.
Richie Benaud's on the screen, looking very dapper in the off white - or is it bone? Or eggshell? Or beige? Or ivory? - jacket.
Gilchrist in his second ODI as Australian opener. His highest score to this point is 77. He starts smoking EVERYTHING. Mark Waugh joins the party. Australia off to a flier.
Waugh plays a glorious shot through extra cover. Smashed it. Then he chops on. Shit.
Ricky Ponting is in at three. Seth Efricen Tony Grieg claims Ian Harvey was a chance to bat at three. Shenanigans.
Dave Richardson is wearing some fugly brown keeping gloves. Allan Donald on to bowl. Pretty quick. Gilly greets him by thrashing him through mid-off.
Brian McMillian - featuring a 'business at the front, party at the back' haircut - he gets drilled by Punter.
Donald has pulled an ass muscle. Shenanigans. I reckon Hansie told his most dangerous bowler to get the f*ck off the ground because he has a game to fix. Or Donald doesn't fancy copping more stick off Gilchrist.
The immortal Darryl Cullinan is on to bowl some pies. Gilly takes at least 20 off his first over. Hmmmmm.
Gilchrist was public enemy No 1 when he replaced Heals in the one day team. He was booed onto the ground or this dig. Now they're chanting his name.
Symcox has a whinge when he has a LBW shout against Gilchrist turned down on 96. Whinge, whinge, f*cking whinge.
Gilchrist brings up his ton with a gay little dab down to third man. Kinda in conflict with the general mood of his knock.
He is dismissed when McMillian bowls him for 104 off 100 balls. Top knock. Maybe made his career. Australia need only 53 runs off a heap of balls.
Harvey is in at four. Wh--at?
Punter is trapped in front by Kluesner for 47. 3/184.
Boof is in. Starts by launching Kluesner through cover for four.
Australia need 19 off 66 balls. Hansie brings himself on to bowl. I am certain he had another exotic on Australia winning inside 42 overs.
Four byes by Richardson helps the
I'm guessing Hansie got some cash out of that one.
Australia went on to win the third final and the tournament, perpetuating a history of South African chokes in big events after dominating the preliminary stages. The 1996 World Cup, a 1997 ODI series against Australia on the veldt and some random tournament in India come to mind.
Regardless of whether he made this ton or not, Gilchrist would have eventually come through the ranks - but maybe not as quickly. Also, Steve Waugh may very well have been dumped as skipper if Australia lost. That could have robbed Australia of one of the best periods of its cricketing history.
Monday, January 24, 2011
Monday's Random Thoughts
Australia won't sweep England in the ridiculously bloated seven-game ODI series ... Sharapova's out of the tennis? At least that nice Danish girl is still in ... Who are going to knock off Brisbane in the A-League finals? ... Hopefully Melbourne Victory are charged with harbouring a fugitive after Muscat's sickening tackle ... Wouldn't mind seeing them miss the finals, too ... Australia Day is coming - cue hordes of drunken teens wearing the flag as a cape ... The knives are well and truly out for Michael Clarke ... Baiting journos via twitter isn't the most mature response ... Great knock by Dave Hussey last night, but can he do any more than play a grafting sort of innings at that level ... Wollongong need to start winning in the NBL, now ... There were some mumbles at work today that Shawn Redhage's injury should have happened to Brad Robbins ... Man United are going to win the EPL ... Cronulla's $300 million plan to convert the swamps around their ground into shops and apartments smacks of the failed Oasis development ... I have a sinking feeling Newcastle's wastefulness over the past eight days will cost them in the EPL ... Australia will win the Asian Cup ... The Roosters have been prudent in shopping Braith Anasta ... Everyone has a use-by date ... Green Bay and Pittsburgh in the Super Bowl? Cool.
Sunday, January 23, 2011
Muscat
I just saw Kevin Muscat's tackle on Adrian Zahra in Melbourne Derby III ... Ouch.
Melbourne Victory are my least favourite A-League club by far - all because of that Vinnie Jones wannabe and his constant thuggish antics.
I hope the FFA give Muscat a long enough suspension that he has to start planning for life after football.
Melbourne Victory are my least favourite A-League club by far - all because of that Vinnie Jones wannabe and his constant thuggish antics.
I hope the FFA give Muscat a long enough suspension that he has to start planning for life after football.
Catching up ...
After going to two shows at the Sydney Festival, I managed to get back in time to see Harry Kewell's last-gasp winner against Iraq. Awesome.
Is there anything better than feeling 116 minutes of frustration and trepidation wash away with one massive, memorable moment? Of course there is, but it was still pretty cool. Sure beats a penalty shoot-out.
Australia will face Uzbekistan in the semi-final for a spot in the Asian Cup decider.
Don't write off the Uzbeks - I had them pegged to make the semis before the tournament started and they have been a tough opposition in the past.
But with Brett Emerton to return from suspension and everyone but Jason Culina healthy, I really like our chances.
In the EPL, my beloved Toon conceded in injury time to butcher a second win in as many starts.
This time, the thieves in the nights were Spurs. It wasn't as painful as last week's calamity against the filthy Mackem scum, but it still grates.
Six points from six instead of two would have been invaluable this time of year in a very congested table.
I haven't written much about the Australian Open tennis. In the immortal words of Pat Rafter, "sorry mate".
As I wrote in Monday's Random Thoughts, the only match of week one I cared about was Hewitt v Nalbandian.
We all know how that ended - a heartbreaking five-set loss to the Aussie. Then some stuff happened.
Bernard Tomic booked a date with World No 1 Rafael Nadal - and lost in straight sets.
However, the 18-year-old only lost the second set 7-5 after nearly going up three service breaks. Oh well. His time will come ... I hope.
In the women's draw, Sam Stosur lost the first set of her round three match in a tie-break, then the plot, on her way to an early exit.
This was a major bummer for the nation's tennis fans - while we were hopeful Hewitt or Tomic could make some noise, Stosur was a legitimate threat.
Is there anything better than feeling 116 minutes of frustration and trepidation wash away with one massive, memorable moment? Of course there is, but it was still pretty cool. Sure beats a penalty shoot-out.
Australia will face Uzbekistan in the semi-final for a spot in the Asian Cup decider.
Don't write off the Uzbeks - I had them pegged to make the semis before the tournament started and they have been a tough opposition in the past.
But with Brett Emerton to return from suspension and everyone but Jason Culina healthy, I really like our chances.
In the EPL, my beloved Toon conceded in injury time to butcher a second win in as many starts.
This time, the thieves in the nights were Spurs. It wasn't as painful as last week's calamity against the filthy Mackem scum, but it still grates.
Six points from six instead of two would have been invaluable this time of year in a very congested table.
I haven't written much about the Australian Open tennis. In the immortal words of Pat Rafter, "sorry mate".
As I wrote in Monday's Random Thoughts, the only match of week one I cared about was Hewitt v Nalbandian.
We all know how that ended - a heartbreaking five-set loss to the Aussie. Then some stuff happened.
Bernard Tomic booked a date with World No 1 Rafael Nadal - and lost in straight sets.
However, the 18-year-old only lost the second set 7-5 after nearly going up three service breaks. Oh well. His time will come ... I hope.
In the women's draw, Sam Stosur lost the first set of her round three match in a tie-break, then the plot, on her way to an early exit.
This was a major bummer for the nation's tennis fans - while we were hopeful Hewitt or Tomic could make some noise, Stosur was a legitimate threat.
Word of the Week
"This bloke can/could play a bit"
Yeah, yeah, yeah. It's a phrase, not a word, I know. Frankly I'm overstimulated from too much sport, two odd shows at the Sydney Festival (yeah, I try to have interests outside sport) and the prospect of KFC for dinner (hate the commercials, love the grease).
This phrase isn't my original - I'm certain other people have said it at other times in other contests, but I like to use it here on this blog.
Simply put, it is a term of admiration. If I write something like 'X can play a bit' rest assured X was one of the best I saw in their chosen sport. Definitely in the top five.
There is one reason I like using it - this blog is all about superlatives and pumping things up as much as possible, but this phrase is so delightfully understated.
It is a rare moment of literary restraint from yours truly as my industry becomes more shrill.
Yeah, yeah, yeah. It's a phrase, not a word, I know. Frankly I'm overstimulated from too much sport, two odd shows at the Sydney Festival (yeah, I try to have interests outside sport) and the prospect of KFC for dinner (hate the commercials, love the grease).
This phrase isn't my original - I'm certain other people have said it at other times in other contests, but I like to use it here on this blog.
Simply put, it is a term of admiration. If I write something like 'X can play a bit' rest assured X was one of the best I saw in their chosen sport. Definitely in the top five.
There is one reason I like using it - this blog is all about superlatives and pumping things up as much as possible, but this phrase is so delightfully understated.
It is a rare moment of literary restraint from yours truly as my industry becomes more shrill.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)