DozzyDreams Are No Match For Reality
September 9th 2009 02:23
You know sometimes when you stumble across a thought so bizarre and ludicrous that you have to stop and think to yourself ‘did that actually happen or did I just dream that a couple of nights ago after I ate too much Crackerbarrel?’
Well, there seems to be a bit of that going around in sporting circles lately so to set the record straight here is the Freddy Krueger Dreams are no match for reality segment.
Did Ian Bell actually participate in his second Ashes victory or did I just dream that?
No this happened. Against all odds the Sherminator managed to fight his way back into a seemingly iron-clad English top-order, stay there for two Tests and claim victory against an Australian team that has his measure so completely that in the Occupation section of his Taxation forms he writes ‘Laughing stock’. And he did all this without actually contributing anything of substance to anyone. A truly remarkable triumph of Ian Bell in the face of overwhelming common sense. That’s right I’ve replaced the words ‘blind fucking luck’ with ‘Ian Bell’ in my vocabulary. Feel free to do the same.
Did England put Ravi Bopara in at first drop in an Ashes series or did I just dream that?
No. Happened. For four Tests no less. I love it when commentators describe a sportsman as having ‘plenty of confidence’. This basically means he is a flashy prick. This is because all sportsmen who reach the pinnacle of their sport have an innate confidence in their own ability otherwise they wouldn’t get to the top, the commentator is just trying to describe Bopara as a flashy prick without using the words ‘flashy’ and ‘prick’. To top it off the English scribes even said Bopara had a real ‘swagger’ about him. Oh dear, we’re now in KP territory. I’m not really sure where all this overblown self-importance comes from in the first place. No cricketer should have ever have a swagger anyway. Why? Because he’s a cricketer. Not Steve McQueen. They don’t even play in the rain!
(Of course the exception to this rule is any West Indian cricketer who ever played. Especially Chris Gayle, who I would argue should not be classified as a cricketer but an entertainer. His level of coolness has sky-rocketed since he started wearing those fluro sunnies. He’s now pretty much a cross between Wolf from Pulp Fiction, Jeff Spicoli and Shaft.)
Did Eddie McGuire compare himself and Collingwood to JFK and the moon landing or did I just dream that?
Even as I’m typing that I have to double check. But…yep, this happened. In the history of over-stating your own place in the world this ranks in the top few along with any Gold Logie speech ever made (what, you beat Ada Nicademu and Maggie Doyle’s boss?) and David Caruso when he left NYPD Blue to be a movie star.
A little note on Caruso, word is, in his last scene for the show he delivered his final lines and then walked immediately off the set in a dramatic fashion. Slamming the door behind him and striding straight off the studio lot as if drawn to the bright lights of Hollywood by the sheer force of his own destiny. He didn’t even wait for a director’s ‘cut’. Meanwhile, the cast and crew (who he’s worked closely with for like, 6 years) were left standing there with their mouths agape and scratching their heads. They’d planned a few genuine goodbyes and a cake to farewell him. Fair bloke!
No one treats Sipowictz like that!
He then went on to star in 'Jade'.
Alas, unfortunately he’s had his career resurrected by CSI: Miami where he searches for sperm all day. Karma eh? It’s a motherfucker.
If you didn’t happen to catch Eddie’s press conference, he described the delicate negotiations surrounding the Buckley-Malthouse succession plan in such rarefied tones that you’d think they took place on the Gaza Strip. At the end of the day, North Melbourne could probably offer Buckley $50 credit to the Kanga Kasino and a Mazda keyring - tough decision there, Bucks. Then it came out that Sydney had been planning a Roos-Longmire succession plan for years, so it really wasn’t like JFK and the moon landing at all but more like President Clinton soiling the dress of an intern (which happened, at minimum, twice a week)
Did Hawthorn coach Alistair Clarkson call out someone else for dirty tactics or did I just dream that?
Being a North Melbourne supporter as a child of the eighties was tough, we won probably four games (all against Richmond), but the one thing we could hang our hat on was that we once punched the Christ out of Carlton in an exhibition match in London. In a dismal decade the ‘Battle of Britain’ was a highlight. Clarkson was the instigator, a cowardly whack from behind on a Carlton player that was only tolerated by me because it was performed on a Carlton player. But now, for that same angry little man to cry foul about a low act, its crazy talk. Clarko’s got a stack of the Joe Pesci’s about him I reckon. The weird thing is every time I think of ‘Casino’ and see Clarko stabbing Matthew Lloyd in the neck with a pen I also get a flash of Sharon Stone giving him a blow job. And that shit just aint right.
Hang on a minute, so England did actually win the Ashes?
Baffling. The selectors have said that we just have to get use to the fact that we’re just not that good any more. Well, Merve when you’ve sobered up for half a second you might come to realise that the English team that won the Ashes in 2009 were ab….solutely shocking. Regardless of key retirements, we should not be losing to a team that actually dropped someone to get Ian Bell in. And Graeme Swan? That head is an absolute fist-magnet of the highest order. Watching his mug in high definition during a long spell in Cardiff was like someone forcing me to watch ‘Beaches’ on repeat with Marcia Hines, Angela Bishop and a dozen bottles of Chardonnay. I just wanted to hurt someone.
Well, there seems to be a bit of that going around in sporting circles lately so to set the record straight here is the Freddy Krueger Dreams are no match for reality segment.
Did Ian Bell actually participate in his second Ashes victory or did I just dream that?
No this happened. Against all odds the Sherminator managed to fight his way back into a seemingly iron-clad English top-order, stay there for two Tests and claim victory against an Australian team that has his measure so completely that in the Occupation section of his Taxation forms he writes ‘Laughing stock’. And he did all this without actually contributing anything of substance to anyone. A truly remarkable triumph of Ian Bell in the face of overwhelming common sense. That’s right I’ve replaced the words ‘blind fucking luck’ with ‘Ian Bell’ in my vocabulary. Feel free to do the same.
Did England put Ravi Bopara in at first drop in an Ashes series or did I just dream that?
No. Happened. For four Tests no less. I love it when commentators describe a sportsman as having ‘plenty of confidence’. This basically means he is a flashy prick. This is because all sportsmen who reach the pinnacle of their sport have an innate confidence in their own ability otherwise they wouldn’t get to the top, the commentator is just trying to describe Bopara as a flashy prick without using the words ‘flashy’ and ‘prick’. To top it off the English scribes even said Bopara had a real ‘swagger’ about him. Oh dear, we’re now in KP territory. I’m not really sure where all this overblown self-importance comes from in the first place. No cricketer should have ever have a swagger anyway. Why? Because he’s a cricketer. Not Steve McQueen. They don’t even play in the rain!
Did Eddie McGuire compare himself and Collingwood to JFK and the moon landing or did I just dream that?
Even as I’m typing that I have to double check. But…yep, this happened. In the history of over-stating your own place in the world this ranks in the top few along with any Gold Logie speech ever made (what, you beat Ada Nicademu and Maggie Doyle’s boss?) and David Caruso when he left NYPD Blue to be a movie star.
A little note on Caruso, word is, in his last scene for the show he delivered his final lines and then walked immediately off the set in a dramatic fashion. Slamming the door behind him and striding straight off the studio lot as if drawn to the bright lights of Hollywood by the sheer force of his own destiny. He didn’t even wait for a director’s ‘cut’. Meanwhile, the cast and crew (who he’s worked closely with for like, 6 years) were left standing there with their mouths agape and scratching their heads. They’d planned a few genuine goodbyes and a cake to farewell him. Fair bloke!
No one treats Sipowictz like that!
He then went on to star in 'Jade'.
Alas, unfortunately he’s had his career resurrected by CSI: Miami where he searches for sperm all day. Karma eh? It’s a motherfucker.
He aint no Grissom...
If you didn’t happen to catch Eddie’s press conference, he described the delicate negotiations surrounding the Buckley-Malthouse succession plan in such rarefied tones that you’d think they took place on the Gaza Strip. At the end of the day, North Melbourne could probably offer Buckley $50 credit to the Kanga Kasino and a Mazda keyring - tough decision there, Bucks. Then it came out that Sydney had been planning a Roos-Longmire succession plan for years, so it really wasn’t like JFK and the moon landing at all but more like President Clinton soiling the dress of an intern (which happened, at minimum, twice a week)
Did Hawthorn coach Alistair Clarkson call out someone else for dirty tactics or did I just dream that?
Being a North Melbourne supporter as a child of the eighties was tough, we won probably four games (all against Richmond), but the one thing we could hang our hat on was that we once punched the Christ out of Carlton in an exhibition match in London. In a dismal decade the ‘Battle of Britain’ was a highlight. Clarkson was the instigator, a cowardly whack from behind on a Carlton player that was only tolerated by me because it was performed on a Carlton player. But now, for that same angry little man to cry foul about a low act, its crazy talk. Clarko’s got a stack of the Joe Pesci’s about him I reckon. The weird thing is every time I think of ‘Casino’ and see Clarko stabbing Matthew Lloyd in the neck with a pen I also get a flash of Sharon Stone giving him a blow job. And that shit just aint right.
Clarko, you should have stayed away from Sharon, she was vulnurable
Hang on a minute, so England did actually win the Ashes?
Baffling. The selectors have said that we just have to get use to the fact that we’re just not that good any more. Well, Merve when you’ve sobered up for half a second you might come to realise that the English team that won the Ashes in 2009 were ab….solutely shocking. Regardless of key retirements, we should not be losing to a team that actually dropped someone to get Ian Bell in. And Graeme Swan? That head is an absolute fist-magnet of the highest order. Watching his mug in high definition during a long spell in Cardiff was like someone forcing me to watch ‘Beaches’ on repeat with Marcia Hines, Angela Bishop and a dozen bottles of Chardonnay. I just wanted to hurt someone.
Fist-magnet.
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