The year of the Rabbit

I missed the modern calendar New Year. Far too busy.

I also missed the Julian calendar New Year. Still too busy.

Well now we’ve come to the Chinese New Year...and I can’t keep using the busy excuse. So it’s time to look back and review the highs and lows of 2010, and preview some of what’s to come in 2011 – all in very condensed point form. After all, I am very f#cken busy.

We’ll start with the most recent events. The Ashes, and the Australian Open:

1. Ole, ole, Nole: Now a two time Grand Slam champion, Novak Djokovic has well and truly arrived. Nole burst onto the scene as a gangly teen with a ripper backcourt game, fantastic sense of humour and fragile temperament. He won a Slam in 2008, won the fans over with his impersonations and was seemingly on his way to winning just about everything. Then the Nole express stalled. A series of high profile melt downs had everyone questioning his mental and physical abilities to compete at the highest levels. Those questions have now been emphatically answered. The dismantling of a hapless and hopeless Andy Murray, on the back of a three set drubbing of the Fed-Express (Editors note: why doesn’t Fed-Ex sponsor Federer...isn’t it a match made in heaven?) in the semi final, have put to rest any lingering doubts about Nole’s status as a champion. Two Slams, Davis Cup Champion, Olympic medallist, several Masters Series titles. And only 23 years of age. The big two is now a big three, with Rafa and Roger looking over their shoulders as the Djoker bears down upon them. And not only is he great on court, he has also become a fantastic spokesperson of it. An intelligent and insightful interview, Nole is always well spoken and presentable, and does the Serbian nation proud. Napred Nole!!!

2. Aussie Kim?!?: Congratulations to Kim Clijsters on adding yet another Slam to what is an extremely cluttered trophy cabinet. You’ve proved yourself a class above the rest of the field, and I sincerely hope you play on for many years to come. However...there’s always a however...what is going on with the local media’s fascination with calling her ‘Aussie Kim’? You’ve got to be kidding me! She dated Lleyton Hewitt many, many, many moons ago. So they made out in the back of his dad’s Commodore on Rundle Street. And she probably used to say ‘G’day’ when she was in the country. She may have even tried one of Adelaide’s famous pie floaters. Kim is now married...not to Lleyton. She also has kids...not Lleyton’s. Meanwhile Hewitt has his own family. When is this obsession going to end? Honestly. I can’t imagine the Mayor of Brussels calling Lleyton to invite him over to open a new chocolate factory in the town centre. I don’t think their local media calls him Belgium’s favourite adopted son. I can’t even imagine Hewitt choosing a Belgian beer over a VB. Tom Cruise isn’t Aussie Tom because he was with Nicole Kidman. And they were married for crying out loud. So message to the media, forget the Aussie Kim crap. COME ON!

3. ASHES TO ASHES: One of my first blog posts was about the declining fortunes of the Australian cricket team. This followed the Ashes defeat in 2008. Three years on and everything is still relevant. Suffice to say that there are some serious issues in Australian cricket, which can no longer be masked by the greatness of immortal players like Waugh, Warne, McGrath and Gilchrist. Sheffield Shield is no longer a nursery for players ready for the unique requirements of Test cricket. T20 and ODI’s are destroying the subtleties required of a true Test cricketer. Many years ago Aussie batsmen used to use their feet at the crease. Now young bucks like Dave Warner, Phil Hughes etc. just try to stand and deliver. That doesn’t work in the long form of the game. And Mitchell Johnson is still angry that his mum doesn’t like his girlfriend!

4. And the winner is...QATAR: FIFA delivered a real sh#t sandwich to the football world when Qatar was announced host of the 2022 World Cup. Why doesn’t Sepp Blatter just post the hosting rights on eBay and ask for interested parties to bid for the rights? Because at the end of the day that’s exactly what has happened. At least with the eBay scenario there would be a semblance of transparency to the process. Heck...it would be great to see a live auction. Imagine cash rich oil countries bidding billions of dollars online, and then having to enter in their Black American Express details to verify the transaction. Classic. After the initial shock of the announcement people started asking legitimate questions about the weather (from stinking hot to unbearably stinking hot), the size of the country (like Sydney...only much smaller), the ban on alcohol...so now we’ve got a situation where Mein Fuhrer Blatter is calling for a World Cup to be hosted in the European winter, along with UEFA head Michel Platini proposing a Gulf World Cup. WTF?!?! Are these people normal? How is it possible that the World Game is run by such buffoons? In hindsight Frank Lowy and the Aussie bid team should have told Mark Arbib to stay home, called over Elle, Nicole Kidman and Hugh Jackman, asked them to perform a private striptease for all of the voters while Frank opened up is cheque book and asked ‘How much?’. Stories are started to gather steam about the mismanagement of the Asia Cup final in Qatar, where thousands of ticket holders were locked out of the stadium with no explanation from the organisers. Blatter please take note.

5. Those damned vuvuzela’s: I can still hear them in my sleep. Like flashbacks from a troubled childhood. I close my eyes and that annoying buzz that was the trademark of the 2010 World Cup starts to dominate my thoughts. Overall the World Cup in South Africa was a huge disappointment. Fours years of clock watching for very little inspiration. This isn’t a knock on the host country or the organisation of the event. By all accounts it ran very smoothly .Rather it was on the football field where the trouble lay. The stars of club football just didn’t turn up. Kaka, Ronaldo, Messi, Rooney, Torres, Drogba to name a few ranged from ok (Messi) to totally, inexcusably insipid (Rooney). There was no spark. No story. No va-va-voom. Just those damned vuvuzela’s.

6. F1: What an amazing season for the peak classification of motorsport. Five quality drivers were still vying for the championship with a handful of races to run. Hat’s off to Vettel, Webber, Alonso, Hamilton and Button for providing phenomenal drama throughout the course of the season. All too often F1 has been a one or at best a two-horse race. This is thankfully no longer the case. The Red Bull team obviously has had the faster car, but Ferrari and McLaren have proven champions driving them into contention. Let’s hope 2011 can deliver more of the same.

7. Independence Day: For the past couple of years the debate has raged with the world of rugby league. Do we need an independent commission to run our game? The AFL model, so successful in establishing Aussie Rules as the nation’s premier football code, has been looked on with envy by many on the Eastern seaboard. Now as the 2011 season approaches it looks like the league boys are finally going to smarten up, remove the layers within the organisational structure of the game, streamline the bureaucracy and deliver a better product to the clubs, the players and the fans. It will be interesting to see who the commissioners are. Let’s hope it isn’t the same group of faces that have been part of the game for the past few decades. If the NRL is serious about its growth and viability, new faces and ideas are required.

8. Taking my talents to South Beach: When LeBron James hosted an hour long, nationally televised program on ESPN (The Decision) to announce that he would be joining Chris Bosh and Dwyane Wade at the Miami Heat – and in the same process effectively killing basketball as a sport in the city of Cleveland – he changed the power structure in the NBA. These three young rivals decided to join forces rather than battle one another, and create a dynasty for themselves. Owners, team presidents and coaches were bypassed. The players had the power and were calling the shots. Since the formation of the Heatles, NBA experts have been speculating about which other players are looking to create Heat 2.0. When Chris Paul toasted Carmelo Anthony at his wedding, and joked about joining forces in New York, the owner of the Denver Nuggets threw up in his mouth. And with the Collective Bargaining Agreement set to expire, its fun and games for the NBA. Expect a long and divisive lock out before this one gets resolved.

9. 70-68: Without doubt my favourite sporting moment of 2010. To say that John Isner and Nicolas Mahut played out a marathon tennis match at Wimbledon is like saying the Titanic hit an ice cube. Just doesn’t do it justice. The score in the fifth set was 70-68!!! The set lasted longer than most matches. If you played out a five setter where each set went to tie break you’d play 65 games. This one set had 138 games! WOW. This is one of the greatest achievements in sports history. No kidding. If this match were played out by two more high profile names the story would still be circulating. As it stood, little known journeyman Mahut played against up and coming giant Isner in a match that will never, ever be replicated.

10. Did you hear the one about the Englishman who could kick a ball?: The recent flurry in transfer activity in the Premier League was as exciting as it was astonishing. First and foremost, Europe is supposedly still in the midst of economic ruin, yet two teams (Chelsea and Liverpool), proceed to shell out tens of millions of pounds on a couple of players. Although this is puzzling, it is nowhere near as head scratching as the transfer values placed on Darren Bent and Andy Carroll. Both are good players, but it seems that any time an Englishman can kick a ball in a straight line one of the major English clubs will pay well in excess of any reasonable sum of money. This isn’t a knock on Bent or Carroll. It’s not their fault. But there’s no way in hell either of them come close to David Villa, who was priced at thirty odd million when he was bought by Barcelona. Based on that value, I wouldn’t pay more than 10 million for Bent or Carroll. They’re not the only ones of course. Shaun Wright Phillips is a prime example of an overpriced English footballer. He’s quick, has scored a goal or two from the wing. Let’s pay twenty million. Michael Carrick. He can pass the ball from side to side (in reality he doesn’t even do that too much). He’s worth twenty million. It’s crazy, and symptomatic of the problem with English football. They overvalue their own talent so much, that they really believe that they can compete on the world stage. The total transfer value of the English football team would overshadow almost every other team in the world, which obviously increases the level of expectation. Unfortunately the level of skill isn’t at the same level. Most clubs on the continent must look on with bemusement.

11. The Incredibles: Not many teams have ever gone through an entire season and remained undefeated. Regardless of the sport, it’s a tough task and an amazing achievement. Yet once in a while a team will flourish and defeat all comers before them. This year Manchester United are looking to following in the footsteps of Arsenal’s Invincibles. Unlike the Londoners though, Man U aren’t defeating all comers...they are drawing against most of them. Should that form continue it will be enough to remain undefeated, and will more than likely to help clinch a record 19th Premiership. I don’t think though that I’ve ever seen a poorer team with a better record. The goal scorers are sporadic. The midfield is reliant on an over the hill winger who has no pace. The goalkeeper is close to pension age. Only the defenders can stack up and say they are performing at a high level. Yet they still continue to churn our results, nab late goals to secure unwarranted draws, or in some cases, unwarranted wins. Not that I care. If title number nineteen makes its way to Old Trafford keep the drab play coming. Glory, glory Man United.

12. Cheaters never prosper: Without a doubt the biggest story in local sports was the Melbourne Storm salary cap drama. After systematically rorting the system for a number of years, and collecting a number of premierships in the process, the NRL got wise to the Storms double book keeping and found that several players had payments that weren’t registered with League HQ. I’m not going to point the finger at the Storm and whine about their accounting skills. I’m of the belief that several, if not all, NRL clubs get a little creative with their book keeping. It’s the salary cap that needs to be looked at. Although the cap does achieve one goal in keeping the talent pool fairly equitable throughout the league, it doesn’t reward success, longevity or junior development. There is no incentive to create a long term plan, when after a couple of seasons you are forced to sell off players to stay under the cap. Over the past five years player turnover has been massive, and its all cap related. The first challenge for the Independent Commission is to create a new system which is fair, equitable and rewards success.

Happy New Year folks...and welcome to the year of the Rabbit.

Pun intended

Joel Monaghan really screwed the pooch with his Mad Monday behaviour. This isn’t a metaphorical statement. It isn’t symbolic of yet another league player’s disgraceful behaviour under the influence of alcohol. It isn’t a figurative description of his fall from grace. He really did screw the pooch.

For those of you living under a rock for the past couple weeks, the Canberra Raiders star quit the club (jumped before he was pushed) after photos of him simulating a sex act with a dog were circulated online.

Now I haven’t seen the offending photo (thank God). But its presence in cyberspace does bring up six very interesting questions, including:

1. Does Mad Monday have any relevance anymore, in light of the fact that league continues to be blighted by alcohol fuelled embarrassments?
2. Were any other Raiders involved?
3. Who was the genius who took the photo and then posted it online?
4. Did the canine consent? Is this a case of mere bestiality, or is it aggravated sexual assault
5. Was the canine male or female? A very important question as it raises the possibility that Joel might have been receiving rather than giving
6. Was Willie Mason anywhere near the nation’s capital when this happened?

Seriously though, what is with league players and alcohol? Is there a gene missing in top line players that ensures after a few beers they lose all sense of moral conduct and personal dignity? I know every sport has a few bad apples. Problem with league is the barrel is well and truly full and the bad apples are rotting on the sidewalk. I’m not asking professional sportsmen to be beacon of purity. Just zip it up when Lassie walks into the room. Is that too much to ask?

Other irregular beats, palpitations, minor and major infarctions:

• FOUR NATIONS: Congrats to the sheep shaggers on winning another international league title. Huge thumbs down to the Australian selectors for not including Todd Carney in the team for the final. How can the most valuable player of the season, and international player of the year no less, not be part of the best 17 players you can roll out? I’m not even going to bother with questioning the Lote Tuqiri inclusion. Disaster. All in all a horrible tournament that proves that league is not an international game. It can fall in the pecking order somewhere between lawn bowls and synchronised swimming as an international sport.

• THE ASHES: Really looking forward to the Ashes this summer (if that’s what you call this gawd awful weather). Looks like the Pom’s will be able to acclimatise well with all of this rain. Both teams have enough quality and frailty, that it should be an intriguing series. Australia’s middle order can crumble like a cookie, Mitchell Johnson might argue with his mum again, Michael Clarke wants to be promoted from Pup to Top Dog and the search is still on for a spinner who can bowl wicket taking, economical overs while smoking, guzzling beer, eating pizza and sending lewd text messages. On the other side England’s top order is shaky, Paul Collingwood is still their answer to Steve Waugh, Kevin Pieterson is coming off career worst form, the quicks have never bowled well Down Under, and lets face it...they are England. Anything can happen!

• F1: I can’t believe neither Mark Webber nor Fernando Alonso took out the drivers’ championship. Guttered for both of them. For Mark because he’s an Aussie (although his connection with the Canberra Raiders now brings up serious questions about his integrity). For Alonso because his performance in coming within a whisker of the title was simply breathtakingly, brilliant driving. The Red Bull’s had the over advantage over all other manufacturers on almost every circuit. The McLaren’s had the best straight line speed. Alonso tanked the first half of the season. Yet he produced some of the best racing since the great Ayrton Senna in the second half of the season. Congratulations to Sebastian Vettel. No F1 championship in undeserved (unless you’re Damon Hill). Enjoy the spoils. With Alonso now settled in at Ferrari, Lewis Hamilton and Jenson Button keen to make up lost ground, and Vettel and Webber still in the Red Bulls, next year promises to be another cracker.

• INGLIS: A few points on the Greg Inglis saga. First, the Brisbane Broncos are to blame for accepting a handshake commitment. In professional sports nowadays a signed contract isn’t worth the paper it’s written on...just ask Sonny Bill Williams. To argue that the club had a commitment from Inglis based on a handshake is a joke. On the flip side, it does prove that Inglis is a first class pr#ck. Never trust a New South Welshman who calls himself a Queenslander. Furthermore, it brings more questions about the salary cap into light. How the hell can Souths fit this guy under the cap, when only a few months ago they said they were maxed out? Also, it’s going to be a real treat to see if Greg is as good as everyone says he is. Playing in the centres when you’ve got Cameron Smith and Cooper Cronk calling the shots, while Billy Slater is lurking around the fringe of the ruck is a completely different ball game to leading an inexperienced and highly overrated South Sydney backline. Finally, it’s probably brought Darren Lockyer one season closer to retirement. With Inglis playing on his outside he could look to continue to pull the strings at the Broncos for a few more years. Well that horse has now well and truly bolted (another intended pun).

• ROONEY: Just a few weeks ago Wayne Rooney declared his intent to leave Manchester United, citing a lack of ambition by the club. In a rage I began writing a blog along the lines of: “F#ck off back to Merseyside you fat, bald, big eared, chav, granny shagging, Shrek look-a-like, mother f#cker!” Before I could finish my column, Rooney changed his mind and decided to recommit to the greatest club in the world in perhaps the most bizarre turnaround in the history of football. There is no question that Rooney is a phenomenal talent. He single handedly brought United within a pubic hair of a fourth consecutive Premier League title last season. Yet his disastrous showing at the World Cup, followed by his flip flop over his future at the club, really bring his frame of mind, motivation and commitment into question.

From Flop to Top

STOP PRESS: Just a very quick note to send my heartfelt commiserations to Liverpool, Chelsea, Tottenham and Manchester City fans on their clubs early exits from the Carling Cup
It’s been a long while since my last posting. Much has happened in the sporting world over the past couple of months including:

• The World Cup, which has come and sadly gone – overall not as exciting as Germany 06...but I still miss it
• LeBron James has made his Decision, taking his talents to South Beach, Florida
• The Parramatta Eels have tanked another NRL season (I’m still waiting for the Dragons to self asphyxiate)
• Spain are on their way to becoming the number one sporting nation in the world. Football world champions, Tour De France champion (Alberto Contador), French Open, US Open and Wimbledon champion (Rafa Nadal), guaranteed Moto GP champion (either Jorge Lorenzo or Dani Pedrosa will take out the title), potentially – although unlikely – F1 champions (Fernando Alonso), current European basketball champions, and arguably the best football club team in the world in Barcelona. Not a bad record that!!! Where do I sign up for Spanish citizenship?
• The United State has restored order in world basketball by winning the World Championships for the first time since 1994
• The Pakistani cricket team has been exposed as being a bunch of corrupt, cheating b#stards – no surprise there
• The Commonwealth Games in Delhi look like being a complete disaster – again, no surprises (especially if you’ve had any exposure to the bureaucracy that is the sub-continent)
• The AFL is looking forward to yet another all Melbourne final when Collingwood face up against St. Kilda
• And most recently Serbia defeated the Czech Republic to move into their first Davis Cup Final. Napred Srbija!!!

Despite all of these wonderful Infarkt related sporting moments I haven’t been inspired to put the proverbial pen to paper. That was until Dimitar Berbatov became the first Manchester United player to score a hat trick against Liverpool (aka the Scumbags from Scouser-Land) in 64 years while leading Man U to a thoroughly deserved 3-2 victory over their most bitter rivals.

POLARISING FIGURE

Dimitar Berbatov might be one of the most polarising figures in the history of Manchester United Football Club. There are fans who will swear blind that he’s a useless, lazy sod who spends most of his time on the field drifting in and out of consciousness. Others, me included, feel that he’s one of the most naturally gifted footballers currently playing the great game, and despite his perceive lack of urgency and languid style, has the capacity for real genius. The truth probably lies somewhere between these two polar extremes, with his performances doing nothing to dissuade either camp from pressing their beliefs.

USELESS LAZY SOD

After delivering successive 23 goal (along with double digit assists) seasons for Spurs, Berba joined Man U for a club record £30.75 million in 2008. Much was expected from the player who was dubbed by no less than Arsene Wenger in his debut Premier League season as the new Thierry Henry (this is meant to be a compliment). Unfortunately Berba’s high price tag was not matched by high energy performances. In the fiery cauldron of Old Trafford, where aggression, passion and enthusiasm inspire the Stretford End as much as a back heel or step over, Berba cut a solitary figure. He was the antithesis of recent crowd favourites such as Bryan Robson, Sparky Hughes, Roy Keane, David Beckham, Gabriel Heinze, Wayne Rooney and Carlos Tevez. Even the misfiring Diego Forlan was admired and applauded for his perpetual motion, despite his inability to hit the back of the net (note – the fact that Forlan is now one of the most lethal goal scorers in the game is a ridiculous joke. Murphy and his stupid laws can go f#ck themselves).

SIDEBAR: MY TAKE ON TEVEZ
In a very short period of time Carlos Tevez became an Old Trafford hero. While he managed to score the occasional spectacular goal, it was his limitless energy, and capacity to chase without the ball at his feet, that won over the Red Devil fans. Personally I thought (and still think) that he’s vastly overrated. While I appreciate his commitment and passion, he plays like a bulldog on speed. His tactic of running though defenders works one in every ten tries. That leaves 90% of the time that he loses possession in good attacking areas because he just kicks the ball forward and tries to burrow his way into a gap (it’s a fact…I made it up). He lacks vision, his passing is limited, and his shot – while extremely powerful – is horribly inaccurate. I will take Rooney, Berba, Forlan, Pancev, Messi, Villa, Torres, and Tome Divljak over Tevez any day of the week…twice on Sunday’s. Plus, he has to be one of the ugliest men to play the beautiful game.

I digress.


Despite his phenomenal first touch and vision, Berba’s lack of goal return, coupled with his oily slicked hair, dropped shoulders, half closed eyes and jogging style (similar to that of a basketballer called 'The Juggernaut') made him an easy target for criticism. While Carlos Tevez was being ‘forced’ out of the club, Berba was being protected by Sir Alex, without delivering on his reputation or price tag. This did nothing to win him any fans.


By the end of his second season, even Sir Alex of Ferguson seemed to have lost faith, benching Berba for some of the clubs biggest games at the back end of the season. With Wayne Rooney leading the line single handed on most nights, rumours abound that Berba would be swiftly move out of the Theatre of Dreams.


Berba seemed consigned to follow in the footsteps of a plethora of footballing giants from the Balkans, such as Il Genio Dejan Savicevic. A phenomenally talented player, but without the required ticker and consistency to translate that into something more meaningful than the occasional party trick or wow moment. Like his amazing goal in the European Cup final in 1994


REAL GENIUS


On the flip side to Berba’s lack of hustle, bustle and (supposedly) heart are those moments when you see that he can do something with the ball at his feet that only a handful of others on the planet can replicate.


Physically Berbatov is the prototypical footballer. A towering and powerful physique coupled with deceptive quickness, he has all the physical attributes to strike fear into the most hardened of central defenders. He can play deep in the box and act as a target man, holding the ball up while support players arrive. Or he can drop into midfield and play as the link man, with a gift for a defence splitting pass that few midfielders can claim.


Then there is his first touch. There a few footballers right now who have the same ability to stop the ball on a dime, while running at pace, regardless of what angle the ball is coming from. Watch this move that had the poor West Ham defender reaching for a pie and chips from the front row of the crowd: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=as5ELmq3ma4. Simply breathtaking.

These are the moments that have fans gasping for more, and believing that despite Cantona’s aura, Rooney’s power, Ronaldo’s trickery, Giggs’ chest hair, and Keane’s ability to inflict serious bodily harm on anyone...Berbatov might be the best footballer of the Sir Alex era.


Check out this compilation of goals from his Spurs days. The top four are spectacular. Each goal is different in execution, and shows that Berba has the full range of skills in his arsenal. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Rt63U66NOaY

TURNING THE CORNER

After finishing the 2009/10 season under a cloud of disappointing performances and deserved criticism, it was widely anticipated that Sir Alex had enough of waiting for the real Berbatov to announce himself, and would cut his losses and ship the Bulgar out. Whether he couldn’t find a buyer, or more likely, didn’t have the funds for an adequate replacement, he decided to keep him on. And in an (albeit) very short period of time, Berba has repaid him tenfold.

Berbatov’s hot start to the season to date reads as follows:

• Scored United's first goal of pre-season on 16 July 2010, in a 3–1 friendly win over Celtic at Rogers Centre in Toronto, Canada
• On 8 August, he scored United's third goal in the 92nd minute of their 3–1 win over Chelsea in the 2010 Community Shield. After some sharp inter-play from Fletcher, Giggs and Nani, the Portuguese lifted the ball through for Berbatov who then lobbed it over the advancing Chelsea goalkeeper, Hilário
• Just eight days later Berbatov scored his and United's first league goal of the season, netting in the 33rd minute of their 3–0 home victory over Newcastle United in their opening fixture of the new campaign
• On 29 August, Berbatov scored his 3rd goal in just 4 games against West Ham United
• On 11 September, Berbatov scored his 3rd Premier League goal (and 4th overall) of the season in a 3–3 draw against Everton

This string of good form culminated in a phenomenal performance on the night of the 19 September, when he scored his first hat-trick in United colours leading the way in a 3–2 win against arch nemesis Liverpool. The three goals have brought his goal tally to 6 in the Premier League for the season. And these weren’t just tap-ins or poachers goals. Berba showed the full range of power, purpose and poise - beating markers to powerful headers, bullying defenders, holding the ball up, bringing midfielders into play, and delighting fans worldwide with an early candidate for goal of the season. Few would have attempted such a bicycle kick. Fewer still could have executed it with such precision.

His performances to date should have convinced even the most ardent critic that he has finally turned the corner, and is ready to lead United to further glory.

Glory, glory Man United.