Field Theory by Hadyn Green

Cricket is over for another year. There may be games left to play in sunnier climes, but here it is done. And not too soon either. I have tried to become a fan of the sport at the seemingly irrational insistence of you, the readers. But really all I can manage is a passing interest. It's the same level of involvement that I have with baseball, except in baseball the uniforms are cooler.

And anyway it's netball season!

That's right, sneaking into your sports news somewhere after the piece about the Rally of Portugal (isn't that Sebastien Loeb something else?) come results from the ANZ Championship. Also known as the netball competition where the Bay of Plenty Magic come to your town and fuck over your team.

It's also a competition where you get actual, honest to goodness, statistics from each game! And can I say, so much for the "we're much fitter and the contest will be closer" from the Mystics.

Personally I'm picking a Magic/Swifts final with the Magic on top this time.

Sadly I live in the home of the Pulse, a team that was touch-and-go for even fielding a team at all this year. It's also sad to go to their home page and see a picture of Sonia Mkoloma, the international star who no longer plays for the team.

I'll also make sure I get along to an actual game this year rather than just catching them on TV.

Also speaking of netball I found this very cool old snap of the Marist Netball team via the Uni-watch blog. After sharing it on Twitter the National Library posted this image as part of their tbreaktweets. According to the NLNZ tweet "there are 6 sports in the world that are played with a net but no ball, and this is one of them". I figure one has to be ice hockey, any guesses for the other four?

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Now for some sad news, Shawn MacKay – current player for the Brumbies and former Australian men's sevens captain and coach of the women's team who won the world cup – died in Durban yesterday.

MacKay suffered a cervical spinal fracture and dislocation, a broken leg and multiple facial fractures after being hit by a car in the early hours of last Sunday in Durban, where he had made his second Super 14 appearance for the Brumbies against the Sharks.

The 26-year-old forward passed away in the early hours of Monday after his condition worsened due to a blood infection contracted as a result of the multiple injuries suffered in the accident.

MacKay was obviously an influential figure in Sevens and clearly he was a good coach too, so it's no stretch to say that Australian rugby as a whole has lost someone very important.

Though I would quite like the sports media (who perhaps only know how to write game results) to stop using macho-bullshit terms to describe his teammates (gutted, shattered, etc).

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On to other things…

Das Wunderkind Lewis Hamilton lied to stewards at the Australian Grand Prix and was disqualified. So he did what every over-hyped sportsperson does: he threw a tantrum.

Through his father, Hamilton informed FIA President and orgy lover Max Mosley that he was thinking of quitting not just McLaren but F1 completely (perhaps to play rugby in France). Could this also be because suddenly Hamilton isn't driving the fastest car on the track, making him look like an average driver. No better than Jenson Button (who, by the way, is also a cock, just saying).

I'm not going to say that Hamilton is the only guilty party here, but I don't believe his innocence either. They cheated, they got caught, next race please.

Lastly, am I the only one to giggle at this headline?

It definitely wasn't the company, the company was great. And it wasn't the crowd, they were generous and in high spirits. Not an arsehole to be seen (excepting the gentleman we know attends every match). The weather could've been a bit better, but there must've been a bit of sun because I ended up getting a little burnt.

So I can only assume that the cricket must've been awful.

New Zealand's first innings score is a clue to this. We barely scraped over the follow-on mark; though I felt almost as though we should've asked to follow-on anyway. Trailing Indian but roughly 200 runs it would've been nice to have our openers return to the pitch and belt a few.

As it was the crowd only became excited when Chris Martin hit a four and Ian O'Brien setting a personal best run total (19).

As I have noticed in the other matches I have attended, the Indian fans are great. This group of likely lads were circling the ground chanting, waving flags and beating drums. I recognised one of them as a guy I had spoken to at the 20/20 game: a local born and raised in Wellington who thought Brendon McCullum was the greatest batsman in cricket at the moment.

After I took the photo one of them put his arm around me and asked, "You got any 42 Below?" The specificity of product threw me as did the strong smell of alcohol on his breath. Naturally I had to answer negatively and send the chap on his way. They carried on past me like a group of very drunk Hare Krishnas (dancing, clapping, singing), as they did a drummer passed too close and I was whacked with a drumstick. Perhaps I should've brought them some flavoured vodka.

Robyn remarked that the feeling at the ground was like "going on a picnic with your mates, but with the option of being entertained by some fellows in white woollen vests running around in the distance". And that was quite true.

I also felt that it seemed like too many people for a test match. I always imagined cricket tests as an event you went to with a packed lunch and you watched the game with a transistor radio and the newspaper. A lazy day in the sun.

I didn't expect the Indian drummers. I didn't expect the groups of loud young men in cricket gear, I didn't expect the man dressed in a pink dress walking around with a couple of "laydeez" dressed rather inappropriately for the weather. In a way I think it spoiled it somehow. I mean it was certainly cheerful, but the enthusiasm didn't match the pace of the game.

Undoubtedly the best part of the match was the lunch break, and I say this with all respect to the New Zealand batting line up (although seriously Ryder? 3? WTF!?)

We stood to stretch our legs and had a conversation about popping down to see how well the pitch was wearing. I laughed because really, I thought, what the fuck would anyone know. And yet there they were, young and old (mainly old) standing at the edge of the pitch looking at he stretch of dirt like African tribesmen hunting Kudu, inspecting the track marks, suggesting to one another ideas on rollers and such.

While out on the boundary a dozen or so games of cricket were going on. Earlier we had bumped into Legbreak and his son; he disappointedly told us that the lunch break games were apparently prohibited. I'm glad there was a change of heart or miscommunication because that section made my day.

There were tennis balls flying everywhere and yet everyone was able to keep a track on there own one. From the kids who were swinging at everything to the adults playing like the selectors might be glancing out the window.

All in all a nice day out, shame about the cricket.

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Russell beat me to it, but I may as well mention it. Don't move the Warriors to Eden Park. It's a dumb move in general and, quite frankly, an announcement that they don't need to deal with at this point in the season.

It also puts me in the awkward position of having to agree with Chris Rattue, something I'd rather not do (by the way am I the only one who doesn't see what is "computer generated" in that image).

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Finally, the secret to catching a fly ball (in cricket or baseball): move.

As a fielder watches the ball rise, he moves either forward or backwards so that the ball moves at a constant speed through his field of vision. If he moves too far forward, the ball will rise faster and may eventually fly over his head. If he takes too many steps back, the ball will appear to rise slower and will drop in front of him.

By managing the ball's position with his movement, a fielder will end up at the right spot at the right time. This explains why the stationary fielders could not predict where the ball would land, as they did not have the benefit of [Optical Acceleration Cancellation]

So keep your eye on the ball but move around a bit too.

Important things first: Luke from Epic Beer has given us some free beers for after the cricket at the Malthouse tomorrow. So if you come see me at the Basin tomorrow I can fill you in on the details. Even if you can't make it to the match but still want to meet and drink with other PASers then pop into the Malthouse later in the day (I have no idea when).

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Have you been practicing in the backyard? Can you run, pass, catch, kick and maybe even tackle for about an hour without getting puffed? Do you have your own socks? Then you might be the new star player the Warriors are looking for:

Anyone out there any good at league? We need a centre, prop, winger, second rower, utility back, must be free @ 2pm Sunday. Apply within.

I had a dream once where I came on in the last minutes for the Warriors in the Grand Final, but that's probably not what they were after.

But seriously this puts quite a dampener on the Warriors' season. They were looking like one of the in-form teams, and many people were picking them to make the finals. Now with big injuries to at least three key players they look to be in dire straits.

Maybe the Warriors will be able to pick up some former rugby players returning from France. French rugby is to limit the number of overseas players in their top-flight clubs.

Clubs will be set a minimum number of home-grown players and will be allowed to have no more than 30% of their squad from overseas by the 2011/12 season.

This will of course be a boon to our local rugby tournaments too. The Super 14 is still churning along with, I'm sure, people still attending matches. Of course if you're an Australian (and some of you are) you pay a premium for your rugby experience.

Naly-D over at the Dropkicks has done a comparison of ticket prices at various homegrounds around the Super 14.

The Aussies are the most expensive with the Force leading the way (cheapest ticket NZ$37.30, most expensive NZ$80.88). The New Zealand team's tickets range from $15 to see the Chiefs for cheap to $53 to splash out on the Hurricanes.

But really South Africa is where it's at. The cheapest ticket to a Bulls game is NZ$1.89 and the most expensive is NZ$20.80, and currently they are the second best team in the competition (bonus points are ball-sack let's not into that again).

As one South African blogger said:

…in general, when a stadium like Ellis Park only pulls in a few thousand for a match, and they're charging R100 (for a good seat) to travel into the middle of town and watch an underperforming team, it is a bit much.

Hear that Crusaders and Blues? Also seriously who pays $38 to see the Force? Or $32 to see the Reds?

Both Naly emailed the various unions for comment on relative prices and I did the same, so far we have not had any comment back (though we have discovered that they "are aware" of the post). But if you live in Australia I suggest you write to your local club and find out why prices are so high.

Finally, for those of you who give a shit about such things, I am currently feeling that emotion you get when a player who is talented, yet also flawed (and quite expensive), does not end up at your team. It's the emotion where you say things like: "wow, that was… lucky?"

Sport is a delicate balance. Leaning one way you win and achieve glory and accolade. Leaning the other way you lose and gather scorn and disdain. The draw is one of those rare instances where all forces are equal and opposite, like Robocop on a unicorn vs the Terminator on Battle Cat. Yet, a test cricket draw is not that awesome.

After five days (two of which featured the good version of the Black Caps) the Napier test limped to a draw, which is a strange thing considering that one team scored more than the other team.

Already there are comments being thought out that tell me it's not about the final score but the overall game and that a draw is as valid an outcome as a win-loss scenario. But let me put this out there: No it fucking isn't.

An anticlimax is what it is. A flat elongated raspberry at the end of what looked like it was going to be an interesting match. I felt especially deflated as I was quite interested in this game (even going so far as to get the cricinfo app for my phone).

A test match that ends in a draw is like listening to a 12 minute Peter Frampton track and then not getting the talking guitar bit at the end. And no, I am not just making that analogy because Frampton Comes Alive! is playing on iTunes at the moment.

You know who enjoyed the game? Garth George. How can you defend that test cricket fans?

Well there's one more chance this season to sway me. I'm going to the Test at the Basin Reserve on Saturday. I may, as the whim takes me, live-blog sections of it, but more likely I will be conversing with folks like Richard Irvine and any others who will be attending.

There may also be drinking and socialising after the game at a nice bar in town (location TBA) after the game for all PA readers who just want to get together for a beer or wine or cocktail.

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In other sport March Madness has finally made it April in the form of the Final Four. Villanova's Wildcats will take on North Carolina's Tarheels while UConn's Huskies battle Michigan State's Spartans. Needless to say my bracket broke down in the Elite Eight because I picked Kansas and Pitt to make it through. Still my overall pick of UConn (that's Connecticut by the way) is still on track.

Of course what this means is that there will be roughly four minutes of amazing, tense, close college basketball on Sunday stretched out (via time-outs and fouls) over half an hour. [On ESPN, Sunday from 10am]

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To look out for in November: New Zealand's greatest ever rugby team will take on the English in two tests.

The three-time world champion Black Ferns will take on their closest rivals will clash at a venue to be determined in their build-up to the 2010 World Cup. Should be bloody good.

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Speaking of World Cups (I'm all about the segueways today) Afghanistan is close to becoming the lowest ranked team to make it to the Cricket World Cup. Bloody good on them (until they beat us).

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And before I forget, Big Shots is the sporting cousin of the Boston Globe's Big Picture photo blog. Well worth a look.

Gliding in and out of the adoring crowd, soaked in sweat, their costume make-up smeared and running, and even with bruises clearly rising to the surface of their skin, the skater's faces showed that joyful emotion of exhaustion mixed with elation seen after any tightly fought contest. And that was both the losers and the winners.

This was the first bout of the Richter City Roller Derby – Wellington's first roller derby organisation – and so naturally called The Grudgemaker. The two teams – Brutal Pageant and Smash Malice – had been selected by the coaches to be as even as possible from the pool of skaters they had attracted since 2007. Skaters like Ruby Deathskates, Sneaky Darky, Rita Anguish, Tuff Bikkies, Lux Vengence, Born Lippy and Suffer Jet. For most of the skaters 2007 was the first time they had put on a pair of skates since they were kids.

Yet despite this and despite the skaters not having any real competition there was no nervousness and no fear. At least no one admitted to any. Tuff Bikkies and Suffer Jet seemed relaxed earlier in the day and jitters were put down to the excitement.

They showed me some of the tricks they would use to get a better start or to get through the pack. They also told us of the various perils that you had to watch out for on the track, including one that could be unique to Roller Derby: Fishnet Burn (which would also make a cool Roller Derby name).

See, Roller Derby is a real sport but, like all sport, it is part competition and part entertainment. Brutal Pageant's uniforms are short pink dresses with a sash stitched on. Smash Malice are dressed in leopard prints and miniskirts. Both teams have then accessorised with fishnets, stripy socks, tiaras, crazy make-up (in one case a fake bullet wound), wigs and an overall bad-ass attitude. The personas the skaters use during the bouts are part of the sport and when I showed up just before the start I wasn't able to get any last-minute commentary from them because they were under "lock down", getting ready and getting into character.

How bad-ass was this going to get, I wondered. After all, each match is called a "bout" and this bout was named "The Grudgemaker".

"I don't have a [grudge] list, the other team might though" laughed Ruby Deathskates, a blocker for Brutal Pageant. "Maybe after the bout I'll have one". Suffer Jet and Tuff Bikkies, two of Brutal Pageant's jammers, shared that sentiment, though they did share a brief insight into their tactics.

"They might be too focused on getting revenge on us [for hitting them] that they might forget their gameplan." So does that mean some showboating? "Absolutely!" And they were hoping for carnage too.

"We were talking about falls before, I really hope there's lots of falling in this bout" said Tuff Bikkies, "I'm really good at jumping and I want to jump over a few people".

But the thing they were all really looking forward to was the crowd. And Wellington didn't disappoint, it was a full house. People were actually turned away. And it was the crowd you expected, with decent proportions of: need-to-be-seen hipsters, old-school punks, supporting parents and families, and sports fans. Some of the more notable members were those with signs, those with fluorescent hair, and the very large gentleman in the lucha libre mask. And of course, tattoos as far as the eye could see.

Personally I found my shouting-at-rugby skills transferred easily to Roller Derby. Though I did feel "C'mon Pageant" to be a little less witty than I wanted, so in the end I just started yelling "woooooo!" and "yeeeeeahh!" and "aaooowwww!"; people within earshot seemed impressed.

And the audience knew what they wanted. Like a NASCAR crowd they wanted carnage, they wanted thrills and they wanted spills. Every time a skater hit the ground (usually with an impressive thump) the crowd showed its appreciation, and blood lust, with a hearty "OOOOoooooo!"

Before the bout the (currently injured) Ginger Tonyx – a name derived from a character from The Valley of the Dolls – and her announcing partner described the rules of the sport to the crowd, which was a good idea because apparently at a bout in Auckland everyone left after the first period because they didn't realise that there were two more to come.
The basic rules of Roller Derby are easy to pick up; the more difficult parts (like figuring out how the lead jammer is determined) take a little bit longer. In fact the rules only really became clear to me when I bailed up referee Plaid the Impaler (a PA reader) after the bout. This was despite me trying to explain the game to those with questions beside me in the audience.

The first period started with controversy. Tuff Bikkie, as jammer for the Pageant, lapped the pack and called off the jam. The Ref's whistle wasn't heard and the pack continued. After protests and confirmations the next jam began, but now it was game on.

The Pageant held the lead after the first jam through to the end (finally winning by almost ten points) but it was by no means a close thing. Smash Malice had many more supporters in the crowd and whenever their star jammer Sneaky Darky got through the pack, the audience let roar.

I had to know: did it piss off the Pageant to hear the crowd behind Malice? Yes it did.

The Malice had a good blocking crew and there was no way around the outside of them. Bikkie was having real trouble sliding out too, so a nudge with a shoulder would send her out of bounds. Suffer Jet's short, choppy steps allowed her to get through on the inside, which she did often, and when there was a big enough lead the promised showboating appeared. After the match though, Jet said her favourite parts were the two times she slid over and ended up in the crowd.

Speaking of showboating, in the second period-break one of the referees, Danger Danger, showed off his flashing wheels with some roller disco. He used to (if you excuse the phrase) roll in LA and San Francisco. When he was complimented on his routine Danger Danger said "when no one else does roller disco then the bar is set pretty low to be the best that anyone has ever seen". I still thought it was cool.

In the final jam the Malice had clawed back to within six. Every member of the Pageant in that jam agreed that the last jam was intense, the Malice were going all out to win. But they fell short as the Pageant held them out and scored points of their own.

So had a grudge been made? Had the previously non-existent take-down lists been written? According to Bikkie: "maybe Smash Malice has a grudge now" But really despite all of my prodding and prying and intentionally inflammatory questions, and even after all the hard-hitting jams, the players remain close friends. So just like any other sport then.

All photos by Michael Roseingrave (all rights reserved). See full album of his photos here