The Weak In Sport for Pretty Much The Last Month Or So
As five minutes' exposure to the E! Channel will no doubt enforce with giddying militancy, it's Awards Season. Whether it's the multi-hour sob-n-wankathon of the Oscars or Golden Globes (no, not J.Lo's arse) or the astonishing tedium of Allan Border Medal Night (no, keep that medal count going, I really DO care who was the third best player for Australia in the POQ Cup one-day game against Outer Turkmenistan in Octember), gaudy coloured metallic trinkets are changing hands faster than ziplock bags of oregano and lawn clippings at Schoolies. Don't knock it, it's a legitimate way to make some holiday cash, and its not as though the little bastards can tell the difference.
So in the spirit of Awards Season, The Weak In Sport (a wholly owned subsidiary of The World Of Bollocks) brings you the Dodgy Awards for 2007. Admittedly we've only had about two and a half weeks of 2007 and all we have to talk about is cricket and a bit of A-League, but dammit, we're getting in early.
The Muhammed Ali 'I Am The Greatest, And You're Shit' Award for Showing The Appropriate Level Of Disrespect To The Opposition
The Australian cricket team, for entertaining the idea of sending McGrath and Warne out to open the innings chasing 46 runs at the end of the Sydney test match. It would have been the ultimate insult to the English team. It would have been entirely justified.
Special commendation: the New South Wales cricket team, for picking Joey Johns in their Twenty20 squad. In this case it wasn't the opposition that had earned disrespect, but the game itself. Former great Henry Lawson blew up deluxe (thanks v. much Fat Man) over it but NSW were granting the tournament just as much credence as it deserved.
Commonbealth Wank Series Man Of The Match, Man Of The Series, Actually Fuck It Let's Give Him The Allan Border Medal, If They Gave It To Pup They'll Give It To Any Bastard
That guy who took the one-handed catch in the crowd off Gilchrist while talking bollocks to his mate on the phone. Irony of the day: that guy is a volunteer firefighter, while Jon Lewis gets paid to play cricket. Whafuck?
Special commendation: Cameron 'Bundy Bear' White. Yes, he's a Victorian. But he slaps it harder than Lleyton at a press conference, has only the fourth or fifth stupidest hair in the squad, and he's keeping Brad Fucking Hogg and his permanently lolling tongue out of the side.
Special needs: Brad Hogg.
The Artfully Stained Bedsheet Award for Best Banner At The Cricket
The guy with the one which said 'I Am The Real Eric Gilchurch'. You can't have missed him, he was on every ten minutes. He must have been sitting in the stand where Eric kept lobbing his sixes into. Cue Kirk Douglas: 'I am Eric Gilchurch.' 'No, I am Eric Gilchurch.'
Olympic Luge Gold Medal for Sledging
AKA the Shane Warne Perpetual Trophy, for his reminder to Paul Collingwood of his place in the grand scheme of things - making seven runs in the Oval Test is perhaps not something that one should straightfacedly accept a MBE for. Warney even offered to lend him some stamps so he could post the thing back to the palace.
On the topic of MBEs (if not sledging) - and in the process unceremoniously ripping off SMH's Mad Monday - Royal grandkiddie Zara Phillips picked up British Sportshuman of the Moment for her efforts in some sort of rich bastards' sport possibly involving horses, and with it was given a complementary MBE (and continental breakfast). Considering who hands these out, isn't that like getting a Xmas present from 'Santa'?
Special commendation: Fabio Capello, coach of Real Madrid, who in recent days has been hounded with questions about the departure of Rabid Beckman to Hollywood in order to have his photo taken, turn up to premieres with his lobotomised anorexic wife and very occasionally take the odd free kick for the LA Galaxy. So, how will Madrid cope with Becks' departure, Fab?
"Sorry, didn't he leave months ago?"
Actually he said nothing of the sort. But you know he wanted to.
Stevie Wonder Fluoro Pink Windcheater Award for Fashion Designer Of The Year
Whoever the fuck is designing the Aussie cricket uniforms at Adidas. Granted, they couldn't figure out a way to fuck up the Test uniform - convention dictates it's the cream, the bone, the white, the off-white, the ivory or the beige, love - but the greatest cricket team in the Known Universe turned up to the SCG for last week's Twenty20 international against the hapless Poms looking like they'd just taken to New Zealand's grey boiler suits from the '92 World Cup with a big yellow highlighter pen. (Ironically the Kiwis, with a much better grasp of retro kitsch than Team Oz, had busted out replicas of their own '92 outfits in their recent Twenty20s against the Lankans.) And for an encore, defecating on almost 30 years of Australian limited overs outfits proudly turning out in Sir Robert Muldoon's canary yellow (or is that Australian gold my friend and don't you fuckin' forget it?), Adidas' kit-design arsewits stuck the ODI squad in what looks like a Socceroos away strip from the late '90s. Canary yellow indeed.
The 12th Man Memorial Ponytail for Best Performance In The Central Commentary Position
AKA the Richie Benaud Gold Plated Snickometer, for a career of topsness, including but not limited to the following:
A ball is bowled down leg side. 'Wide' is signalled.
Former Australian wicketkeeper and perpetual tool Ian Healy spends the next half an over making the plaintive case that this rule is preposterous, that not being able to bowl the ball at all down the batsman's legside is unnecessarily unfair, that today's game is designed by batsmen for batsmen, and that a rule change is the only reasonable response.
Silence.
"What do you think Richie, do you agree with me?"
More silence.
"In a word," replied Richie, "no."
'Australian Idol' Platinum Digital Voice Tuner for Most Cringeworthy Musical Recording (limited to sportspeople in order to prevent the entire Top 40 being nominated)
Brett Lee's Bollywood pop duet. And you thought Six 'N' Out were pox. Jesus fuckin' Christ.
TNT Freight Award for Perpetually Late Shipments (anyone who's dealt with these talentless arseclowns knows of what we speak)
The Perth Glory back four (fuck me, it's not a cricket one) for shipping two goals in the second half against Melbourne, and two more in the second half - make that two well into stoppage time at the end of the second half - of last week's home game against Newcastle.
The __________ Award for Taking It Any Way They Can Get It (identity of person award named after withheld following defamation proceedings)
The Barmy Army. Having lost 5-0 to Dad's Army, these lads will take a win any way they can. Even if it involves turning up to a Sydney FC game and cheering on the New Zealand Knights. As can only be expected for Englishmen pretending to be New Zealanders they were thoroughtly embarrassed about it - but not nearly as much as the Sydney F'n'C's who contrived to lose the match 1-0.
And finally:
The Nathan Fien/Karmichael Hunt/Steve Devine/Brad Thorn/Lou Vincent/Definitely Not Russell Crowe Award for Being Most Likely To Cause A Trans-Tasman Sporting Eligibility Stoush In About Twenty Years Time
Who else?
This guy.
In solidarity with his brothers, Lucas busts out the Black Power salute from the Olympic athletics podium, Mexico '68.
Neither of us have had the heart to tell him he isn't black.
The Doctor is OUT.
PS And as promised, a "Warney's Fucked Off" Special Commemorative Edition Spotters' Badge (no real reason to call it that, other than that every other bit of shite memorabilia at present seems to be commemorating Warney fucking off) for our Neattii, the Cro who flew West - that wasn't her causing a fracas with the Serbs at the tennis, honest Officer - for being the first to guess at the Socceroo-captaining origins of Dr Yobbo Jr's given name. It's not actually why he's called Lucas, but we promised her a shout-out anyway.
