Absolutely everything, here in the Lucky Country. The big news in Sydney, once you get past the war coverage, is the Federal Government’s report on Soccer Australia and the rolling of George Piggins from Souths. It will never cease to amaze me how the politics of sports here can be as big as the politics of, well, politics.
An Australian team loses to New Zealand and what happens? They launch a federal enquiry. Sure, soccer is a mess over here, but if it were New Zealand it would just be allowed to go on being a mess. The government would never get involved.
The single biggest story of last year? The Bulldogs scandal. It won a coveted Walkley journalism award ahead of children overboard. Not just that, only in Australia would a breach of some arcane sporting salary cap rule lead all the way up to the cabinet of government and blossom into a political and business scandal with allegations of corruption and nepotism.
During Souths' battle to get back into the League you had to see the street marches to believe them. Red and Green all down George St, the Rabbitohs came in their thousands to reinstate the perrennial losers to their rightful position at the bottom of the table.
Of course that’s the hard news. What do you get when in the mood for a bit of tabloid trash? You get more sport! This time in the form of one-time AFL king Wayne Carey shagging his team-mates missuses. When Girlie first arrived here she was engrossed in the Carey case. And it’s a case that goes on and on with endless variations and developments. You just don’t find that kind of relentless sensationalism back home.
As the league season heads into full swing, the anthem of the year is a remake of the Hudu Gurus' classic “What’s my scene?” – this time round it’s “That’s my team!”. Unfortunately my team, if I have one, is Souths, so there’s not a lot to shout about. Despite living in the zone I can’t bring myself to support Wests Tigers.
Anyway, to my inbox. SallyS has revived God’s breakfast issue, suggesting firstly that “God eats whatever he wants for breakfast - he is eating what we all wish we could be if we didn't have to worry about cholesterol, fat bums, indigestion, liver failure etc. Bloody marys, honey bacon pancakes, all those sugary cereals, cold pizza.....” On second thoughts, she suggests, maybe he just has Mary for breakfast.
ChrisB suggests wearing trousers ‘neath my bottomless chaps was cheating. I replied I was building up to a great denouement, or maybe detrowment. He then coined the term “enchapment”, which presumably has a matching “dechapment”. I might have to take that one up to Taylor Square for a road test.
StephenS has also been out acoining. He asks if I think the term “blog-standard” will catch on.
It won’t, Stephen, but thanks for the effort.
And finally a quotable quote from a man called Hemingway. They’ve just discovered some new letters between The Man and Marlene Dietrich, in one of which he writes:
"I've been in love (truly) with five women, the Spanish Republic and the 4th Infantry Division.”
Oh yeah, that reminds me, the war’s over.