Tuesday, June 21, 2005

When too much sport is never enough.

Sports lovers unite. Tis the time of year when multitudes of sports fans gather and marvel at the prowess of many a great sports men and women. And this year is a bit of a leap year when it comes to sports.

We start with the regular fare of Aussie rules and that rugby league thing they play up north.

The yearly trek to Wimbledon to see the worlds finest smack cat gut against a felt covered air conveyance on slippery painted grass.

The US open golf where we wait to see which Aussie hero can almost make a charge to the top of the leader board only to blow out on the final day with a 7 over 79.

There is usually a formula one grand prix being staged somewhere in the world, although that last race was just one massive farce. How can you call a race between 6 cars a “race”? Shame! Bernie, Shame!

There’s a MotoGP race somewhere in the world as well, god knows where, but it will be on Fox Sports 2 on Sunday night, just have to look out for it.

They’ll be garlic, berets, wine and 2 wheelers of the pushy kind as the tour de France gets underway next week. Somehow, watching cyclists racing up and down roads, mountains and cobblestones doesn’t get any better than when it’s in France.

There is also the spectacle of the NBA finals, Spurs v Pistons.

Then on top of all this feasting, there’s a soccer tournament which includes Australia in the final eight against some powerhouse teams (out in straight sets though).

AND, to top it all off, the mother of all conflicts, the battle for the Ashes!!!

What’s a poor boy supposed to do? There must be a good 300 hours worth of sport for the viewing over the next month or so, and only so many long play video tapes to collect it on. Then when do you watch them?

“You could always just read about it in the paper the following day!”

What? Who said that? Hush thy mouth.

The pleasure is in the viewing, catching those defining moments, the great mark, the unbelievable catch, the six over mid-wicket to beat the Poms, the tumble of the guy in the yellow jersey onto the cobblestones, the clutch 3 pointer in double overtime to win the series, the spraying of the champagne by the victor and the sports nut falling asleep on the couch and missing all the good bits. That’s what is important.


MelbourneGirl said...

Clokey, you are scaring me now. But I bet you never fell asleep during sex did you? So that's some [small] consolation for a girl who hates sport [well, not really, this one manages to PACK in two AFL games a year, plus... well, there is no plus] however this girl also is very happy to cook for her man while he watches [falls asleep] in front of sporttv. Well, maybe that was a lie. But it's never happened so who knows?

I admire your passion Clokey, really I do. And you write well. Who woulda thunk? You sound like a sports journo - at first I thought you'd maybe pinched it off some obscure site, but you know what, I think you wrote it yourself.

I am warming up to you Clokey.

Bet you're a hunk o spunk too

I need to find a pic for you as you must post a pic.


Clokeeeey! said...

Can't say that I've every fallen asleep during sex. Once I start a job, I see it through. I can say that I'm usually wired after sex and it takes a while for me to come down.

I'll start hunting for an approriate photos, might need to doctor one up. I have this great black & white skull cap.

I got my start in journalism in year 11, Brother Mark implored us to write a daily diary, so I did as I was told, kept a diary for about....


let's see....


it was, ummm...

about, 2 weeks...

That's it, the style has just seeped in through reading the paper, writing minutes at work and spending way too much time listening to sportscasters.

Thanks for popping by,

Game Over....

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