Tag Archives: cricket

12.1 We Drop in to the Mire

01 Tuesday Mar 2011

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Pictures by Warrigal

We drop in to the Mire, that’s the planet the Haggins’ live on, on the way to meet Alexrod, convenient hey. Mire revolves around a star called god knows what. God Knows What is around about the size of the sun. Don’t just some things run in your favour when you are out in space, fantastic.

Throwdough Haggins

So Gordon has told me that the Habits, that’s the Haggins tribal name, believe in magic, you know, goblins and sorcerers and all that airy fairy nonsense that we all know ain’t true however some folk, some planets do.  The Habits live in Inhobitable. They are always having parties, loud music and of course plenty of ale. Sound like my kinda guys however Habits are smaller then us so things are a bit cramped for us apes on Mire. Gordon suggested I try a 3 wishes deal with the Habits to test the water. You know,  one the two then the punch line. So okay lets try.

“So Throwdough, you like the party time hey, must go through a lotta beer?” I ask with great interest, well sort of.

“Lots of beer Sandy” he replies.

See the beer on Mire is called Oink Lager and the name says it all. Tastes like bats piss but hang on what does bats piss actually taste like? Yuck! And what sort of person would drink bats piss? I think I might change the subject, I’m feeling ill and I’m the one writing this.

Sandy O’Paramatta

“Look, on my planet we have this great technology. You just chuck this in here, fill with water and it makes beer, 25c per 375 ml bottle, waddya say?” I pitch like a car salesman on Parramatta Road.

“Just this stuff and water, Sandy is that right?” replies Throwdough.  “Well, hmm, well, no, hmm, hmm no, no oh no, hmm, oh no,  I’ll have two more of them.”

So with that Throwdough and Dildough handed over their cards. We left minus six home brew kits, oh and enough supplies to last them a century. I’m sure though the Habits will do as much as they can with addictive substances.

Viv having a break, literally

Back onboard the Julian we now start to head for Automaticus Tellericus, reset the password on the One Card and grab the bail. Easy for sure, well not really.  Meeting my brother is going to be very interesting.

“I’ve ordered the Vivienne 59 for tea Sandy” chirps Belinda who walks in with Helvi.

“Hi Helvi, kill anyone today?” I quip hoping it’s taken in jest.

“No but if you want me to” grins Helvi.

“Anyhoo, what’s a Vivienne 59?” I request

“Some blokes name Ross Jogan, you know, curry it’s your favourite” says Belinda.

“Ready to fight Sandy or still shaking at the knees?” declares  Helvi

Daves jigger

Dave the Guitar Droid goes “Hey, It’s. Shakin All Over”

“When you move in a-right up close to me
That’s when I get the shakes all over me
Quivers down my back bone
I got the shakes in my thigh bone
I got the Quivers in my knee bone
Shakin’ a-all over”

“Well perhaps not Dave” I say rather limply “ but a good rendo.”

“Girls, battle plans okay, lets go.” I float and with that the battle council gathered. They are well armed and well trained. Us’, well, we are just a pack of losers. However we have the Julian, the best spaceship in the galaxy but not necessary in the universe. Lets try and overlook that.  This is complex fiction and I don’t want to lose you.

Helvi and Al Foyle with Catherine and Neville take charge. Ships are launched and deflector shields are activated. We are on silent mode. The ship runs on minimum power. Warrigal, the chief sensor,  is flashing his torch at his tranny trying to get some sort of

Silence is Deadly

positive response, under the quilt, late at night, yeah. Noise of any kind a this time is not welcome. I can’t help myself and I take my part in all this very seriously, as you all know, none more dedicated than me, oh yes. So I says, you know, I says, you know,  to the command group “Hey listen, I need to fart, but, look, you know silent is deadly” I announce to the delight of the crowd.

The Command group is thrown in to Chaos, “Oh, no, Sandy wants to ffffaaarrrtttttt’……”

Central Computer calling…..

Warning!

Warning  again!!

Look I’ve told you, there is a warning of some description. !!!

Look, don’t keep pressing the escape key, it won’t help. !!!!

I’ve issued a bloody warning what else do you want?

I think I’ll shut down.

12.0 A Briefing from GOD

14 Monday Feb 2011

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I have a meeting with Gordon about the mission. “So Gordon, more baked beans? And what about the ICCB (Intergalactic Cricket Control Board)?” I’m asking this from my previous encounter with the last experiment that I had unwittingly become part of.

“No beans this time Sandy and don’t worry about the ICCB since you knocked out both of their Death Balls you could say that they’re neutered.”

“So Gordon are you saying that the ICCB hasn’t got any balls?”

“Yes Sandy, the ICCB is ball – less however the Stumponians are well armed. Nothing the Helvi-tastic can’t handle and oh, yes, your farcical powers” says Gordon with that mischievous grin and a chuckle that freezes your blood.

“Reset the expiry date on the card and that’s it. Oh, and get the Holy Bail. Oh and get the cards back from those Haggin’s, oh and say gidday to Axelrod the Marauder. Hmm, I think that’s it. The navcom has been programmed, take the wavetable after Pluto” rambles Gordon.

“Who is Axelrod the Marauder?” I ask stupidly knowing it will be something horrible. I mean the name is a dead give away. Should I call myself Sandy the Nice Bloke, hmm, don’t think so.

“He’s the keeper of the Bails. You will have to fight him I suppose” Gordon answers rather nonchalantly. Gee great, thanks Gordon. This is a joke, a farce. Just as that thought pops into my head the glass of water on the table in front me smashes to smithereens, oh no, the farce.

“Yes Sandy you must use the farce, may the farce be with you”

“And with you”

“Go the farce has ended”

“Thanks be to Gordon”

*******************************************

I teleport aboard using my SPIT(Small Personal Interplanetary Teleporter) and meet up with the crew who are all in the local, The Bats Droppings, for a reunion drink. The navcom who we call Neville has come as his dog form but all the regulars are here. Michael the publican pours me a pint of Trotters. Al Foyle, the Garrison Commander is in deep discussion with Helvi, about killing Stumponians probably.

Dave the guitar droid is playing some Muddy Waters and George is betting on the dish lickers. Belinda grasps my arm “Strange being back in space Sandy, isn’t this exciting” Well, yes, no, maybe.

“Yes, exciting” I hear myself say. “Where’s this planet, Automaticus Terllericus?”

“Orbits a star called Aldebaran, only 65 light years away, shouldn’t take long” replies Belinda with the excitement rising in her voice. “And don’t worry, me and Helvi will deal with axle grease or what ever his name is. We are a bit of a team us two.” What’s this now, warrior droid plus warrior woman? Scary stuff.

Now let me tell you, space is big, I mean, it’s bigger than big, it’s huge. Isn’t it amazing, big and huge are such small words to describe such a big thing as space. Anyhoo the ships engine doesn’t have a known top speed. It just keeps accelerating till the navcom tells it to stop and so by the time I have finished writing this sentence I will be thousands of kilometres away from where I was when I started.

So the Stumponians, who are they? Belinda and I head to the Cruel Room to get briefed on who we are up against. Oh, the Cruel Room is a four dimensional multimedia centre where the walls and floor all go one colour, invisible. It makes you think you are sitting on the outside of the ship, the S.S Julian II, or the Jules for short.

Stumponians love balls we are told. Throughout their year they have Red Balls that last for five days and White Balls that just go for a day. And there’s a rumour going round that they are going to have a new ball that just lasts three hours or so, I mean can you believe that? I can’t and I’m the author. Imagine anything that goes for five days, boring.

There’s singing, dancing, classical music, fine food and wine and art displays. Apart from that they are highly militarised and love fighting. Strange hey. They protect The Stumps that holds the Holy Bail which belongs to Gordon.

“Look Belinda, there’s just one thing I’d like to know” I ask rather meekly.

“What’s that Sandy?”

“Well, you know in the earlier part of this story I found out that you weren’t my sister, thank Gordon, but the evil Lord Deaf Vision was my father. So am I going to find out that I’m related to a Stumponian or what, I mean my nerves are killing me?”

“Yes Sandy” Belinda informs “Alexrod is your brother who in a previous life went by the name, David”

“Oh zark, me fight David, never! He’ll kill me”

Australia Day

26 Wednesday Jan 2011

Posted by in Bands at the Pig's Arms, Warrigal Mirriyuula

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Warning Emmjay has fixed the crappy spelling in this Warrigal Meisterpiece

Australia Day. It’s all GOOD!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pjKDvx61q2s

Richard Clapton The Best Years Of Our Lives

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3mkidP2OUCk

Icehouse Great Southern Land

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HImcaPDmfBY

Russell Morris The Real Thing

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7VdrjORe7kw

Goanna Every Passing Day

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xrDSh7WWdZs

Cold Chisel Star Hotel

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Avw1ddNHKmE

Australian Crawl The Boys Light Up

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cQbcAQ9SqmM

Ronnie Burns Smiley

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9-UAtW8f0wA

Healing Force Golden Miles

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DWOJ6c9JUrA

Axiom Little Ray Of Sunshine

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iUmtSpGhMEs

The Dingoes Way Out West

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G9LGIbXpeGE

Spectrum I’ll Be Gone

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1IftzPmA3zE

The Easybeats Friday On My Mind

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vgisVaSagt8&feature=fvst

Do Re Mi Man Overboard

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vhtGUt703oA

The Porkers Swingin’ Like Tiger Woods

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QpNAX0LGdCo

The Reels Love Will Find A Way

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AQOlwMKpmvQ

Crowded House Better Be Home Soon

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XTvzzgk_jEY&feature=related

Matt Taylor & Chain I Remember When I Was Young

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b9iOk8PqkKs

AC/DC It’s A Long Way To The Shop If Ya Wanna Sausage Roll

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hgkfrKhnEiQ&feature=fvst

Billy Thorpe Most People I Know

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_aYzQb6cc5E

The Divynils Pleasure And Pain

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b2D84Ma-CxI&feature=related

The Sunnyboys Alone With You

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7YFrPdTw_ik&feature=related

Jo Jo Zep & The Falcons Hit & Run

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I01s45kPS6I

Renee Geyer It Only Happens

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FxZjEw0ZcDo&feature=related

Wendy Matthews The Day You Went Away

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ADlAc-NsDng

The Waifs Lighthouse

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EHK-hMz_OXA&feature=related

Bertie Blackman In The Air Tonight

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yoEa50-lMWk

The Sunpilots Metric System

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H11hii4za7g

Blue King Brown  Water

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Is-qGjF02_E

Nabarlek Brown Bird

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x8-YMpYbRqY&feature=related

Geoffrey Gurrumul Yunupingu Wiyathul

Baggy Green Blues

31 Friday Dec 2010

Posted by in Emmjay, The Sports Bar

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“Now there are blues that you get from happiness

There are blues you get from pain

There’re blues when you are pining for your team to be shining

Blues that are hard to explain”[1]

“And there are blues you get from cricket

When you hear your top order snick it and they fill up your thoughts with darkest dread

Yes, these blues become a bummer when they wreck half of your summer

And your steel reserves must harden to take the tranny out in the garden

For there are blues you get from hearin’ your team’s chances disappearin’

When your cricket gear’s at home, out in the shed.

But the meanest blues, the meanest blues there be

Are the kind that I got on my mind

The blues the Baggy Greensters give to me.

There are blues you get in snatches when they drop dead sitter catches

And complainin’ to the umpire “He waz out !”

There are blues you get in cricket when the ball misses the wicket and the keeper fakes a half-convincing shout.

There are blues when you find wanting the captaincy of Ponting

Ain’t no point to linger or to blame his busted finger

‘Coz a punter’s just a punter and a Pup is just a pup

With two lost Ashes in a row, the time is surely up

And the Poms are on a millionteen for none

Yes there are blues when their top batters hit everything that matters

And the Poms are on two millionteen for one

But the baddest blues’s my insistence

When the Greens have less resistance

Than the skin on day old custard and the ponces show no mustard

And take a dive before the oldest foe.

Yes, there are blues when you’re in the thicket

And you blame a grassy wicket that didn’t seam to trouble Poms at all

Or there are blues when selector sinners leave out all the spinners

And there’s no-one who can turn a bloody ball.

You could say that it ain’t fair of me and the Poms were just too good

And selection’s such a tricky thing few mortals understood

I’m blue becoz we’ll all have to wait

For the gifted sons of the golden greats

But by that time, I have a hunch, we’ll all be out there takin’ lunch

Through fattish straws – with our toothless mates.

But the bluest thing, the saddest thing – I’ll remember till I die

Was Pup hangin’ on the final Ashes test, prayin’ for a series tie.

[1] From “Blues My Naughty Sweetie Gives to Me” – bent, with apologies

11.6 Sandy Burns the Midnight Oil.

04 Saturday Dec 2010

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Digital Interruption by Warrigal Mirriyuula

The phone rings “Sandy it’s the Bish, I’ve been going through my records” Hmm, this is dangerous. The Bish records everything and is always ready to use it to his advantage. “I want you to talk to Peetar Garret” Hmm, wonder what this poor bloke has done to the Bish. “You know the singer from Midday Toil. I want you to have a short jocular conversation with him, short and jocular.”  Not ringing any bells here, yawn.

“Okay Bish” I reply, anything to get him to zarking shut up. “So this bloke Peetar, what do you want to ask him him?” I ask, sighing deeply at my extreme disinterest as I really couldn’t care.

“Find out about what’s going on in Correa, you know MASH and all that.” roars the Bish. No I don’t really. MASH, Suicide is Painless, poetry ever if there was some. Series ran longer than the war.

Anyhoo enough of that lets go. I grab a cab to the airport and jump a plane to Canberra. I bribe my way into the press room with some green stinky stuff the Bish gave me. Sheet, how can people smoke that stuff amazes me but all the guards love it.

I see Peetar having a coffee at the buffet, alone, this is my chance,

FOW: So Peetar, Australia has lots of military allies around the world. In your view who do we have the strongest link with?

PG: U.S Forces give the nod

FOW: So is this a good thing for Australia?
PG: It’s a setback for your country

FOW: So on to the problems with Correa what do you see happening there?
PG: Bombs and trenches all in a row, Bombs and threats still ask for more

FOW: Will the Correan conflict effect the globe Peetar?
PG: Divided world, the CIA, say who control the issue

FOW: Do you think negotiations with the parties will help?

PG: You leave us with no time to talk

FOW: Peetar, do you have an official account of what’s happening on the ground?
PG: You can write your own assessment

FOW: Can you expand on that please Peetar?

PG: Sing me songs of no denying, seems to me too many tired, waiting for the next big thing

FOW: So for the man in the street, what should they look for?
PG: Will you know it when you see it

FOW: And the effect on our youth?
PG: High risk children, dogs of war

FOW: Do you think that the Correan conflict will affect investment brokers such as those in Wall St?
PG: Now market movements call the shots, business deals in parking lots, waiting for the meat of tomorrow.

FOW: Does this mean a refrain for the Australian economy Peetar?

PG: Sing me songs of no denying, seems to me too many tired, waiting for the next big thing.

FOW: So look, times running out but briefly would you like to sum up the current situation?

PG: Everyone too stoned to start a mission, people too scared to go to prison
We’re unable to make decisions, Politicians party line, don’t cross that floor,
L. Ron Hubbard can’t save your life, Superboy takes a plutonium wife
In the shadow of Ban The Bomb we live…..

FOW: Yes, well that’s all we have time for . Is there any message you would like to make certain the audience is in chorus with your thoughts?

PG: Sing me songs of no denying , seems to me too many tired, waiting for the next big thing

11.4 Life is a Volcano

22 Monday Nov 2010

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The name’s O’Way, Sandy O’Way

Digital Mischief by Warrigal Mirriyuula

Hi, Sandy here. Yes you guessed it, I’m on a mission from Gordon, you known, Gordon O’Donnell, the creator of the universe. See Gordon and the Bish have sent me to Sumatra to investigate some island that decided to explode. I mean as if I know anything about exploding gas, well, Belinda might tell you different.

Luckily this time the Helvi-tastic has come with me as my body guard. Do I feel heartened? You would have to be zarking mad, listen to this,

“So Helvi, how’s life aboard the S.S. Julian II?” I ask given my disquietude for the crew had become worrisome.

“We are ready to fight, to kill and to die as martyrs” replies Helvi with her typical broad grin and than determined look that could kill at five metres. Scary stuff man.

“But Helvi who are we fighting?” I enquire with such rabid enthusiasm that watching cricket suddenly looks alluring. I go on “But Helvi, I think a volcano has erupted, who’s left to fight?” I plea.

“Sssssssssssssssaaannndddyyyyy, a warrior is always ready” replies Helvi in that voice that can scare the living shit out of anything. “I have both long range and hand held laser cannons, swords, star knifes, grenades and defence shields.” Does this woman come prepared or what?

So we land and are taken to the hardest hit region. There seems to be a lot of people running around, screaming and yelling “Watch out, Java is coming!” I mean what a time to have to update my computer, I hate it when this happens.

There is an army of folk and Red Cross volunteers trying to help people from zark knows where. I say to some bloke “Hey dude, where’s a good place to eat around here?” “Eat mate, what zarking planet have you been on?” he yells. “Well mate, I’ve been on lots of planets. This is Earth isn’t it? So where’s the zarking cricket mate?” I reply using my unctuous parish priest voice. “Cricket mate” the heavily armed bloke replies “We had to declare at 4 for 328 due to the zarking volcano, I’m personally shattered.” He’s opened up now. This is the real picture of living next to a live volcano. He continues “See I was on a fivefer[1], we had ‘em nailed, out guys would have got the runs easy.”

So guys there you have it. 328 runs on the board is a concern. The score defies the underlying principal of the universe being the average number of beans in a can of baked beans divided by  the final score of a cricket innings. Some things in space just never cease to amaze me.

[1] Fiverfer – an amalgamation of the word five and for, indicating that a bowler has taken five wickets in an innings.]

11. Sandy Returns – From where, not sure?

23 Saturday Oct 2010

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Hi. Sandy here. For the new I’m Father Alexander “Sandy” O’Way. I’m the parish priest at the St Generic Brand Church in Inner Cyberia in the Western suburbs. The parish covers the Pigs Arms and I am often down there, sinking a glass canoe of Trotter’s Ale and debating science with Emmjay, or in other words talking bullshit. Oh, and I have recently been in space, travelling several galaxies researching baked beans for the creator of the Universe, Gordon O’Donnell, an astrophysicist from another dimension. Anyway, that’s another story.

Anyhoo, they let me out of the local psychiatric unit after the Bish, you know, my boss, Bishop Bishop came and bailed me out. Now I’m back with my Bel, you know Belinda, Glenda’s little sister, whom I married and then Gordon tells me he wants me to go back into space. Yeah right!

So I have to find out what happen between Picky Runting and Shame Worn, you know, they are cricketers, the most boring game in the universe. A good saying would be “I’ve seen grass grow, paint dry and a cricket game”, know what I mean. Personally I couldn’t give a rat’s toss bag, what ever that means, but the Bish had a bet with Pastor Sauce that they will replace Runting with Michael Fark. I mean, tie me down and spank my bottom, Gees arse.

I visit Picky at his rural Tasmanian home that he had completely relocated to the Sydney outskirts. Convenient hey. “Picky, dude, what’s this spat with you and Worny?” I ask showing my severe interest by yawning half way through the question.

“Ah, nothing Father. Look me and Worny is mates and nothing can come between us. He has his views and I have mine but unfortunately his views are all wrong and mine are always right and so I am going to belt the zark out of him, oops, Sorry Father, I seek means of a redemption through negotiation rather than senseless violence, ugh”. “What about Fark for captain?” I enquire. “Well Sandy yes, no, maybe”

Hmmm, now lets see what Worny has got to say for himself. I visit Shame in the majestic mansion that he built for himself by being able to bowl spin, telling lots of other people to zark off and how great he is, yeah right. “Shame, dude, what’s this spat with you and Runting?” I ask showing my severe interest by yawning half way through the question. “Ah, nothing Father. Look me and Picky is mates and nothing can come between us. He has his views and I have mine but unfortunately his views are all wrong and mine are always right and so I am going to belt the zark out of him, oops, Sorry Father, I seek means of a redemption through negotiation rather than senseless violence, ugh”. “What about Fark for captain?” I enquire. “Well Sandy yes, no, maybe”

Gee did you get a de jevu or what?  I mean are these guys similar. So I rings my good mate and colleague in India. The former test player now journalist Asif Iwood. “Asif mate, did Runting or Horrorwitch set bad fields in the last series?” I ask totally uninterested in the answer. “Well Sandy yes, no, maybe.” Hmm, deep. We’re getting somewhere here. “So Asif should they have played two spinners?” I ask as it’s written on a piece a paper for me by some cricket nut job to ask. “Well Sandy yes, no, maybe.”  Wow, mystical stuff.

So I rings the Bish “Hey Bish, it’s Sandy” I announce rather bravely. “Your money is as safe as the American banking system collapsing, Bish, Bish, are you okay?”

10. Ur, um, the end bit

19 Monday Jul 2010

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The Joyous couple

Sandy here, back here on Earth and married to the beautiful Belinda, March 19, ouch, 21, okay, sheez! No need to be so touchy!  After a stay in the Regen-O-Bubble on Missen, Helvi and Belinda got rid of the little rodent Howard by blowing the zark out of him with a Waughhead [Thanks Waz,] The girls then did a pub crawl from Andromeda back to the Milky Way. Well, I must say, girls will be girls. Well I sort of wanted to stay on Missen. I had become used  to the way of life and  well, you know, shiraz, steaks and lots of things that now escape my mammary, er, um, oops, memory.

Anyhoo, Gordon has paid off the ICCB to go and zark off, the S.S. Julian II has rounded up a mighty cast and returned to Earth, yes that’s right Earth home now for Sandy and Belinda, no more space roaming for me. I’m a new man. It was an adventure being out there in space but give me the quiet parish life any day. See priests in my religion can get married. At our church you just insert the name of your God into out text sheet and away you go. No one cares about your views and everyone accepts each others rights to which fictional creature you want to talk to, everyone’s a winner.

Bishop Bishop performed the ceremony at the parish church of St Generic Brand. The post wedding party is at the Pigs Arms. Merve along with Granny and the two Vivienne’s, oh, yes, look the crew have come down for the wedding so we have the situation where like is meeting like, I mean its zarking freaky man, like imagine Voice meeting Catherine!

I look around the crowd and lots of people have turned up. Big M and Pussy Couscous have travelled from Missen. Zig and Zag have come from Zog.  Zig wants to begin tours to Earth  as Earth men are so easy, if you know what I mean.

It’s funny watching the crew from the S.S Julian II meet the locals at the Pigs Arms. The Vivienne’s don’t seem to be able to agree about cups. Astyages and Dave, the guitar droid, are working on a song list ready to play after the food has gone down. Helvi and the Helvi-tastic are agreeing on everything and everything while GO and Gerard are discussing Van Gough and Wagner. Emmjay and the first mate are swapping brewing techniques with Michael Jones, the publican of the Bats Droppings. Yes there all here. Even Mr and Mrs A are here, looking resplendid as usual and in deep conversation with Geo.r.ge.

I gaze at Belinda. She is beautiful beyond reproach. I am the lucky guy, I’ve won my lotto. Belinda has all her sisters for bridesmaids, Glenda, Juanita, Jacinta, Melinda, Rosita, Edwina , Sophia and Cassandra. Boy, am I going to have some birthday parties to go to, well, someone’s gotta do it.

I see Gordon, you know Gordon O’Donnell the creator of the universe, he has been busy having a few pints of Trotter’s Ale and approaches me. “Sandy, you old dog, got the pick of the bunch with young Miss Belinda” proffers Gordon, pulling back on a Café Crème “Yes, she’s a dish for sure Gordon” I answer rather distractedly as Gordon’s eyes have narrowed and he has grabbed me around the shoulder and pulled me in close to him. Is he batting for the other team? I think to myself “Sandy, look old chum there’s just one thing. I enrolled in uni next year and I need some help……”

[Authors note: Sandy was last seen in the back of an ambulance, in a white coat heading for the funny farm, yelling at the top of his lungs “PPPPPPPPPPPPPPiiiiiiiiiiiiiggggggggggsssssss in ssssssspppppppppaaaaaaaaaaacccceeeeee.]

About Middle and Off – Hung’s Wide World of Sport

02 Friday Jul 2010

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At 5 for 348 over to the commentary box….Hung?

“Lillie approaches from the Vulture Street End, Boycott pads up, its bowled him, Boycott’s off stump knocked out of the ground, no shot offered……”, the lounge room roars into action, grown men cry, dogs bark, people flood the street tossing hats in the air rejoicing, backs are slapped, beers are poured, this is summer this is cricket, this is heaven, their best batsman bowled without offering a shot, life doesn’t get any better than this, ah yes, cricket where the only thing better than cricket is more cricket.

Yes cricket, the one true national game.  Forget your football codes cricket is life and life is cricket.  Understanding cricket is easy. Get more runs then they do, simple.  Nothin’ too hard bout that. And yes the culture, the joy, the atmosphere, its quasi-religious and coming from an atheist that’s saying something.

As a kid growing up in Wollongong all my mates played cricket and for me batting, bowling or fielding I couldn’t care less, just playing the game was all I needed.  Weekends were cricket in the juniors Saturday morning, Grade in the afternoon.  Sunday morning surf then when the nor’easter came in cricket in the park with me mates.  Mum had to come and get me for tea as the sun had set ages ago. She’d call out from the street “Hung, get home, it’s as black as, tea’s on the table, how can you see that ball anyhow?”, “But Mum, a century beckons”, I always wondered why mum called me Hung when my name’s Xavier, anyway some things are a mystery.

My Dad, an Englishman tolerating us colonials, would get the bus to the bottom of Bulli Pass and hold up a sign “SCG”, someone would always pull over and give him a lift. I was too young to go along at first but then my initiation came, the SCG, the hallowed turf, the smell of the freshly cut grass, the crowd, the banter between the Poms and the Aussies, always witty, never violent or abusive and supporters of both sides could sit together and barrack for their team.  Mum would pack ham and mustard sandwiches and Dad would shout an ice cream, bliss.

Then as a young man going to the test with my mates, eskies full of beer, pies and hotdogs, hot chips and seagulls.  Doug Walters would stride out and the crowd would erupt, “Douggie, Douggie” we’d chant.  If he got a boundary the noise was deafening, all of us would rise as one, “You bewdy”.  Then tragedy, Douggie caught in the covers, “Poms can’t field, how’d they catch that “.

Then as I aged a bit more and the Hill disappeared and my brother-in-law, Brad, and I would sit in the stands. One birthday, which falls in January, somewhere between the 4th and the 6th, hint hint, we went to the SCG and watched India play, Azzarudin, mate, me and Brad wanted to make him an honorary Aussie, he was brilliant.  But it was against the Poms that was best, the old dart, the mother country, those were the days.

Tutu and I moved to Adelaide in the eighties and loved it. 15 minutes to the oval, no rain, 5 days of heaven.  Saw the mighty West Indies, Adam Gilchrist, V.V.S Laxman,  Wasim Akram and the graceful Brian Lara.  In the first few years here, Tutu would bring books to the game  to read but it gets hot in summer, 40 plus, so now she drops me at the Oval and goes on a spending spree on my credit card, I mean am I a winner or what ?

Andrew Strauss not getting it either

So for those that don’t understand cricket, don’t worry.  Just pretend you like it or compromise like Tutu and read a book, enjoy the fresh air, the sun, the community, being as one with total strangers, applauding your opponent for good play, all of these things are cricket and oh yes check the scoreboard occasionally.
Now available at: http://hungoneon.wordpress.com/2010/06/12/about-middle-and-off-hungs-wide-world-of-sport/

Ashes to Ashes

23 Wednesday Jun 2010

Posted by in Warrigal Mirriyuula

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By Warrigal

“Tired of endless defeat, the MCC calls in the big guns to bolster the selection committee. We find them assembled in their private box above the SCG where they hope to get some pointers watching the colonials.

Nelson, dispirited that Hardy’s fate is to be 12th man again, has devolved into a brown study and will not be cheered. Elizabeth, on the other hand, enigmatically remembers Darnley’s powerful leg spin technique. Doctor Grace, proving that even death can’t keep a good man down, is padded up and practising a few blocking strokes; while Bond thinks that maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to shoot the lot of them and start again.”

Warrigal Mischief