Australia made the World Cup finals for the second time in a row, and only the third time ever. Unlike the last two times, we were expected to make it this time 'round, now that FIFA, the world governing body of soccer correctly located us in Asia as opposed to somewhere in the South American vicinity. Our tee-totalling Dutch coach Pim Verbeek is to be now known as 'Aussie Pim'. Can't wait for the World Cup. Can't wait for the spectacle, the thrill, the sleepless nights and the inevitable depression when we're kicked out, but hopefully not by a cheatin' divin' Itie this time.
Only three days in, we're already eliminated from the world Twenty20 championship. Brett Lee and Michael Hussey were both shithouse, and yet again on TSFKA I call for their sacking from the Ashes team. Meanwhile, Andrew Symonds didn't even play because he broke team rules by having a beer and not telling anyone he was having a beer... after-hours. He said today that he 'didn't fit in'. On the one hand, if you want to be an elite sportsman getting paid millions of dollars, maybe a reliabce on 'having a beer' every night is not such a good thing, but on the other hand, 'having a beer after-hours without telling anyone' should not really be a sackable offence. If it were that, Ramon and Lewd Bob would be unemployable. But really, when all is said and done, it was only Twenty20, and who gives a fuck?
My team Richmond lost again. We've won two out 11 matches and sit second last on the ladder in this, the fifth year of Terry Wallace's 'five year plan' to make us successful. Unlike the USSR though, Richmond get rid of failed despots pretty quickly, and Wallace coached his last game on the weekend and now some 12 year old called 'Jade' is coaching us. It's hardly a coaches name. In recent history we've had Terry, Robert, Tony, Tommy, Kevin, John and Spud. Now we have 'Jade'. God help us, but if he selects the team by blindfolding himself and throwing darts at players' names on the wall, and his tactic is to 'get the ball and kick it towards the goals' he'll do better than Wallace anyway.
Tour de France is less than a month away. Cannot. Wait. I love the scenery, the SBS commentary with hardly any ads, the drug scandals and the bosomy models handing over the champagne to the winner each and every day. For those who've never watched a whole race, I highly recommend staying up one night and watching one in its entirety. It's little wonder they take steroids. I couldn't even walk up some of those hills.
Just like the Australian cricket team, I failed at my attempt to read 'War & Peace' in 48 hours, but only because another sport interrupted my progress - 'Power Drinking With Hot Chick', at which I excelled, but two days later, I think I am still hungover.