Workplace: Dirt Cheap
Industrial: Daddy Doesnít Live With Us Anymore
Economics: Who's Afraid of the BCA?
International: From the Wreckage
Politics: Infrastructure Blues
History: Meat and Three Veg
Savings: Super Seduction
Politics: Popping the 'E-Word'
Poetry: To Know Somebody
Review: Off the Rails
The Locker Room
Thatís Our Team
Janetís Job No Victory
Royal Finger Lickers
Will $20 Restore Carr?
The Locker Room
Reducto Ad Absurdo
"Sports writers are a rude and brainless subculture of fascist drunks." - Hunter S. Thompson
The Locker Room is constantly surprised by the wonderful developments that beset the world of sport.
Twenty/20 cricket, 3am curfews and the death of Hunter S. Thompson are but three that have happened in recent times
Of the three the first is by far the most unusual.
It is not without its problems, but is in keeping with the Zeitgeist of these times.
Instant gratification is bringing instant gratification to all it would seem.
Nonetheless this column sounds a note of caution. Especially for those who seek love in their lives.
This column poses the question; who would you rather have a romantic interlude with - someone who wants something over quickly, wham bam, with an obvious result; or someone who likes it to last for five days, often with still no result?
For that reason the Locker Room has long been a fan of test cricket.
The advent of Twenty/20 cricket will now no doubt mean that one-day cricket will be labelled 'dull" and "slow".
It will be interesting to see if 'traditionalists' rush to the defence of one-day cricket.
Will we hear cries that Twenty/20 cricket is destroying one-day cricket; that you never see the line and length slow medium pacer anymore; where has the reverse sweep and the French cut gone?
And so on and so forth.
Bill O'Reilly, the man who coined the phrase 'Pyjama Cricket' would be spinning in his grave.
He felt that the 50 over game belittled both players and spectators - and this column has some sympathy with the old coot.
It's not hard to see where all this will end. Pretty soon they'll be clamouring for Ten/10, or Five/5 Cricket. After One/1 they'll be left with None/0.
What is pleasing is seeing Cricket return to a public broadcaster. Any public broadcaster would do, but SBS is just fine.
Millions wept with joy at the prospect of being able to watch the Ashes on free-to-air TV sans Mssrs Greig, Taylor, et al. Even without that ridiculous pommy work experience chap popping up from time to time.
Let's just hope that SBS isn't as fond of mass-marketing limited edition collectables that no one wants.
From all accounts it could be nice to have someone vaguely intelligent presenting our cricket this winter. Let's hope they don't stuff it up like Nine have well and truly done in recent decades.
The most unusual entry in the 'what's in a name" award arrives this month via the august pages of the UK Guardian.
The Portsmouth Football Club are known as the "Skates", and the Guardian informed its readers why:
"Royal Navy sailors who were at sea for months on end would often use skate fish to relieve their sexual frustrations (the mouth of the skate is said to be even better than warm liver). According to local myth, Portsmouth women would fend off the advances of sailors with the phrase 'I ain't no skate-bait, mate.'"
See, sport can be romantic.
Phil Doyle - wearing the yellow shirt as they go into the mountain stage
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