For some reason, my Muse has decided that sport is the flavour of the week, having got rid of the Olympics (temporarily). We (my Muse and I) thought we would give you a bit of an insight into my own sporting achievements.
I was totally useless at soccer and cricket because of my glasses; at least that was my excuse. Anyway, to cut a short story long the Games master did the usual thing and picked the two best players and told them to pick their teams. This inevitably resulted in Me, Daffy-Don Davenport and Charlie Hulme being the last ones chosen. Daffy-Don’s only claim to fame was his ability to make an extraordinarily loud farting noise using a cupped hand and his armpit. (If you don’t believe me, try it sometime on a hot sweaty day).
Charlie must have been one of the original eggheads, he had the biggest cranium I’ve ever seen, he was a brilliant scholar and ended up getting thrown out of London University for wasting his time train-spotting. He also spent every lunchtime at school, cycling around to as many pubs as he could reach, giving them his own version of the Egon Ronay system for pints of beer and pasties.
(I have recently heard from Charlie and although he did fail the first year at Uni, he went on to graduate and became very successful in IT at Manchester Uni. Him and his wife are still cycling around Derbyshire and he still loves his trains. I’m not sure about the ale and pasties.)
That left yours truly, the last but arguably the best of the “useless trio”. I used to be pretty good at cross-country running, which didn’t involve hand-eye co-ordination and some of the best distance runners in history wore glasses. Although I must admit I can’t name any off the top of my head, so you’ll have to take my word for it.
However the smoking and drinking got to me, sooner rather than later, and my running career finally fell flat. Me and a couple of mates were caught smoking by one of the teachers. We were hiding in a quarry having a quiet smoke. We were watching the leaders passing by and waiting for a clear break in the field of runners, so we didn’t finish too high in the placings, (nothing but honest me and my mates).
The lousy, hypocritical sod crept up behind us and confiscated the smokes (he was a smoker himself, of course) He kept us behind, till everybody had overtaken us, including Charlie and Daffy Don and then let the four of us go.
We ran into the school grounds past the assembled pupils and teachers and pretended to race each other, we were all from different ‘houses’ and the crowd was going berserk. As we crossed the finish line, we all ran over together holding hands. Much to the delight of the pupils and the chagrin of the teachers.
Cheers for now,
SkyBlueSkull
http://keith-skellern.blogspot.com
Showing posts with label Sports. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Sports. Show all posts
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Monday, March 30, 2009
Sport and Religion in Australia
This is another copy of a blog that I sent to the 'Manchester Evening News', so it appears on the 'Net' somewhere else, but Odin (I already told you that I'm descended from the Vikings) knows where. So I am including it here as well, just in case you can't find it either, that's the sort of thoughtful, caring guy I am!
I have some statistics before me, these are ‘dinki di’ statistics compiled by the ‘Christian Research Association’ and printed in ‘The Melbourne Age’ a very august publication in much the same vein as ‘The Manchester Evening News’, not the usual crap that I make up off the top of my head. (To be honest with you, I just added that in case the inestimable editor of the MEN, stumbled on this in an idle moment).
Anyway, these stats reveal that of Melbourne’s population of 3.6 million, 1 million are Catholics and another million are made up of various Protestant groups ((are Anglicans, (400,000) Prods?)) and Moslems, Jews, Buddhists, Zoroastrians and other assorted odds and sods. That leaves over 1.5 mill or 42% who don’t claim to be anything.
That’s an awful lot of Godless bastards, in America 98.67% (alright! I admit it, I just made that up) claim to be church-goers. Over there if you claim to be an atheist, you’re only one small rung above being a paedophiliacal necromaniac with a shoe fetish.
So, what do these Aussies believe in? Well, you can go for twenty years working next to a person and never find out that they’re an Archdeacon in a Druidical sect, that practices animal/virgin sacrifices at every full moon. People just don’t talk about religion, apart from the door-knockers, Seventh Day Adventurists, PsuedoOlogists and clean-cut lads in suits from Salt Lake City.
However, you can’t go longer than twenty minutes without finding out which Aussie Rules Team they barrack for (We’re talking Melbourne here) different rules apply in NSW and Queensland, where they follow Rugby League Teams, but the principle is just the same.
In the AFL (Aussie Football League) there are 16 teams, one each from QLD and NSW, two from SA and WA and the rest from VIC. To function properly at all levels of society you HAVE to be a fan of one of these.
You can follow and participate in Crown Green Darts, Ice Soccer, Synchronised Swimming, Table Badminton, or Nude Beach Tiddly-Winks. Whatever takes your fancy , but you MUST follow an AFL club or you are a social leper.
So, what is this AFL you ask? Well, it’s a very quick, athletic game played between two teams of eighteen, very fit young men who attack a ball and try and kick it between four (not two) posts at either end of a large oval field. If they succeed, then a man dressed as an attendant in a lunatic asylum, waves white flags dementedly around and another similarly attired gentleman waves back at him from the other end of the ground.
This semaphoric routine indicates whether the ball went through the inner bigger poles, which scores 6 points in which case two white flags are flapped around maniacally.
The other alternatives are minor scores which go between a big pole and a small pole, this scores one point and only one flag is used. If the ball misses all the poles then no flags are waved and the crowd shouts obscenities at the player who missed. If he’s one of yours, these can be in an anguished tone, if he’s one of theirs then it should be in a jeering manner.
You also need to shout out obscenities at the umpires as they are always useless, blind white maggots of questionable parentage with exceptionally low IQ’s. As a newcomer to the game, it is highly recommended that you study a game on the TV before you attend an actual game. This is not particularly difficult to achieve as they are broadcast in their entirety (upwards of two hours) on Friday evenings and all day long and most of the night on Saturdays and Sundays.
This means that you can shout obscenities at your spouse (women are even more vociferous than men) all weekend and get away with it. Women love the game and why not? where else can they watch 36 young men in skimpy shorts, beating the crap out of each other? I know that I for one would be glued to the screen if there were games of beach volleyball, with 36 bikini clad beauties beating each other up and no net to intervene, but I’m a sicko!
Unlike most games, where the teams start off in their own half of the field and run like buggery into their opponents half, in AFL they all go anywhere they like, right from the start and then run around higgledy piggledy, trying to confuse everybody, including themselves.
If it’s like any other game, the one that comes closest is Gaelic Football, but they have an excuse, because they’re all Irish and it's expected of them. I won’t go into Aussie Rules any further at this stage, unless popular demand requires me to, as it would require a book, of which there are many available in all good book-stores and selected news-agencies.
Aussie worship of sport doesn’t end there of course, they love beating anybody, but especially The Poms. This is rooted in history, and there is no tradition stronger than that of Test Cricket. The Poms are just as bad of course, when they beat the Skips in England, the Queen knighted the bloody lot of them, including the ‘Sight Screen Movers’.
Not really giving much of a flying frolic who won, although I do enjoy watching test cricket. If the Poms were winning, I used to go into work and say “The Poms are going alright then”. If the Aussies were getting the upper hand, I’d wander in and say “Us Aussies are thrashing the arse off those Pommie Bastards, eh!”. This tactic caused great consternation among the Aussies and it pays to beat a hasty retreat if you’re about to get lynched.
I could go on about other sports, but I won’t mainly because I’m getting bored. Suffice it to say that if you are a sportsman or woman and you’re prepared to be naturalised (sounds painful) then Godzone is the place for you (not from a religious point of view of course). Look at ‘Aussie’ Joe Bugner for one, on second thoughts don’t It’s not a pretty sight.
Cheers for now,
SkyBlueSkull
http://keith-skellern.blogspot.com
I have some statistics before me, these are ‘dinki di’ statistics compiled by the ‘Christian Research Association’ and printed in ‘The Melbourne Age’ a very august publication in much the same vein as ‘The Manchester Evening News’, not the usual crap that I make up off the top of my head. (To be honest with you, I just added that in case the inestimable editor of the MEN, stumbled on this in an idle moment).
Anyway, these stats reveal that of Melbourne’s population of 3.6 million, 1 million are Catholics and another million are made up of various Protestant groups ((are Anglicans, (400,000) Prods?)) and Moslems, Jews, Buddhists, Zoroastrians and other assorted odds and sods. That leaves over 1.5 mill or 42% who don’t claim to be anything.
That’s an awful lot of Godless bastards, in America 98.67% (alright! I admit it, I just made that up) claim to be church-goers. Over there if you claim to be an atheist, you’re only one small rung above being a paedophiliacal necromaniac with a shoe fetish.
So, what do these Aussies believe in? Well, you can go for twenty years working next to a person and never find out that they’re an Archdeacon in a Druidical sect, that practices animal/virgin sacrifices at every full moon. People just don’t talk about religion, apart from the door-knockers, Seventh Day Adventurists, PsuedoOlogists and clean-cut lads in suits from Salt Lake City.
However, you can’t go longer than twenty minutes without finding out which Aussie Rules Team they barrack for (We’re talking Melbourne here) different rules apply in NSW and Queensland, where they follow Rugby League Teams, but the principle is just the same.
In the AFL (Aussie Football League) there are 16 teams, one each from QLD and NSW, two from SA and WA and the rest from VIC. To function properly at all levels of society you HAVE to be a fan of one of these.
You can follow and participate in Crown Green Darts, Ice Soccer, Synchronised Swimming, Table Badminton, or Nude Beach Tiddly-Winks. Whatever takes your fancy , but you MUST follow an AFL club or you are a social leper.
So, what is this AFL you ask? Well, it’s a very quick, athletic game played between two teams of eighteen, very fit young men who attack a ball and try and kick it between four (not two) posts at either end of a large oval field. If they succeed, then a man dressed as an attendant in a lunatic asylum, waves white flags dementedly around and another similarly attired gentleman waves back at him from the other end of the ground.
This semaphoric routine indicates whether the ball went through the inner bigger poles, which scores 6 points in which case two white flags are flapped around maniacally.
The other alternatives are minor scores which go between a big pole and a small pole, this scores one point and only one flag is used. If the ball misses all the poles then no flags are waved and the crowd shouts obscenities at the player who missed. If he’s one of yours, these can be in an anguished tone, if he’s one of theirs then it should be in a jeering manner.
You also need to shout out obscenities at the umpires as they are always useless, blind white maggots of questionable parentage with exceptionally low IQ’s. As a newcomer to the game, it is highly recommended that you study a game on the TV before you attend an actual game. This is not particularly difficult to achieve as they are broadcast in their entirety (upwards of two hours) on Friday evenings and all day long and most of the night on Saturdays and Sundays.
This means that you can shout obscenities at your spouse (women are even more vociferous than men) all weekend and get away with it. Women love the game and why not? where else can they watch 36 young men in skimpy shorts, beating the crap out of each other? I know that I for one would be glued to the screen if there were games of beach volleyball, with 36 bikini clad beauties beating each other up and no net to intervene, but I’m a sicko!
Unlike most games, where the teams start off in their own half of the field and run like buggery into their opponents half, in AFL they all go anywhere they like, right from the start and then run around higgledy piggledy, trying to confuse everybody, including themselves.
If it’s like any other game, the one that comes closest is Gaelic Football, but they have an excuse, because they’re all Irish and it's expected of them. I won’t go into Aussie Rules any further at this stage, unless popular demand requires me to, as it would require a book, of which there are many available in all good book-stores and selected news-agencies.
Aussie worship of sport doesn’t end there of course, they love beating anybody, but especially The Poms. This is rooted in history, and there is no tradition stronger than that of Test Cricket. The Poms are just as bad of course, when they beat the Skips in England, the Queen knighted the bloody lot of them, including the ‘Sight Screen Movers’.
Not really giving much of a flying frolic who won, although I do enjoy watching test cricket. If the Poms were winning, I used to go into work and say “The Poms are going alright then”. If the Aussies were getting the upper hand, I’d wander in and say “Us Aussies are thrashing the arse off those Pommie Bastards, eh!”. This tactic caused great consternation among the Aussies and it pays to beat a hasty retreat if you’re about to get lynched.
I could go on about other sports, but I won’t mainly because I’m getting bored. Suffice it to say that if you are a sportsman or woman and you’re prepared to be naturalised (sounds painful) then Godzone is the place for you (not from a religious point of view of course). Look at ‘Aussie’ Joe Bugner for one, on second thoughts don’t It’s not a pretty sight.
Cheers for now,
SkyBlueSkull
http://keith-skellern.blogspot.com
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