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A Dribbler Farewell to the Tokyo Olympics

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A Dribbler Farewell to the Tokyo Olympics

by Jonny Ogilvie

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As the sun sets on the Olympics in the land of the Rising Sun, I’ve got a few dribbles to sign off on;
 
Safe to say plenty of people here were naysayers about the games. It’s appropriateness about being held during a pandemic, care factor assuming the Aussies would get pumped, or generally it not being one of the major sporting codes. I was one of them, and was happily proven wrong. They have been incredible.
 
The Aussie team are a bunch of throbbers. Every one of them went down swinging, that’s all we ask. Some won, some didn’t, and that’s ok. They all possess a level of hand-eye coordination, physical ability and mental toughness that 99.9% of people could only dream of. They did us proud.
 
The culture and pride shown by the Aussie teams should be the gold standard amongst sporting teams. Plenty of NRL/AFL teams bang on about having culture; look at the swimmers chanting at the top of their lungs, Patty Mills crying after finally getting it done, or the Hockeyroos being distraught after going out early. It was a case of ‘get on board, or get fucked.’ We can all appreciate that.
 
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The fact Australia punches above its weight at these events is incredible. Population size has nothing to do with it, but funding sure as shit does. They can’t compete in that regard with the US, GB, or ROC, but they still turn up and let those wankers know that they’re gonna have to work.
 
Any ‘pundit’ criticising athletes can get in the bin; most of those cunts couldn’t perform a tumble turn without drowning, shoot a jump-shot without rolling an ankle, run a race without popping both hamstrings or try a side-step without tearing both ACLs. Leave the dribbling to the dribblers.
 
Anyway, to sum it all up, the last two weeks have been awesome and I can’t wait for Paris 2024. I think we as dribblers have a duty to keep an eye on all the Aussie athletes we’ve come to know over the last few weeks; Peter Bol, the Swim team, Ash Moloney, Jess Fox, etc. They get shoved to the side during non-Olympic years, and I think they deserve better.
 
Aussie Gold forever.
Olympic Rings tattoos soon.
Dirty Merger Countries never.
 
 

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What Was Life Like the Last Time the Wallabies Won the Bledisloe?

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What Was Life Like the Last Time the Wallabies Won the Bledisloe?

DYOR Dave

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Tonight, Australian Rugby fans will partake in the sadistic yearly tradition of watching the pride of our nation be embarrassed by a tiny country full of sheep and flightless birds. For the newer generation of rugby fans, this is what they assume the sport to be. Much like a fish may not know he’s in water until he’s flopping around on land, many Rugby fans simply accept this phenomenon as the only possible reality. Witnessing a Bledisloe triumph over the All Blacks seems as distant a memory as landline telephones or dial up internet, and just as a startled fish panics around in unfamiliar territory, sadly most Aussie rugby fans would be so unfamiliar with a Bledisloe victory that they would turn into a scared, confused, wet and slimy mess.

With two games at the fortress of Eden Park, it seems another defeat is inevitable, so I thought I’d attempt to jog the memory of the punters and dribblers, and give them a taste of what life was like before the dark dynasty of the All Blacks.

In 2002, you may have been on your way to the cinema to see one of the latest flicks including the first Ice Age, the second Harry Potter, My big fat greek wedding, or Adam Sandler’s Mr Deeds. If you switched on the radio you’d hear such new tunes as Nelly’s Hot in Herre, Eminem’s Without Me, Avril Lavigne’s Sk8er Boi and Nickelback’s How You Remind Me. Nickelback’s lead singer would go on to marry and divorce Avril Lavigne, all in the time it took Australia to lose 3 Bledisloe’s between 2012 and 2015.

Technology was rapidly advancing and people were now more connected and wired up than ever. Apple had just released the 2nd gen iPod classic, which could hold a whopping 20GB of songs with its click wheel and black & white screen. In other revolutionary news, the first phones with a built in camera were released, however the pictures were confined to MySpace and MSN, as Facebook, Reddit, Instagram and YouTube had all yet to be invented.

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In the sporting world, a young quarterback named Tom Brady had just won his first Super Bowl and looked like he had a decent career ahead of him. Meanwhile, Steven Bradbury just became Australia’s first Winter Olympic medalist in a feat of pure skill and hard work. Queensland retained the Origin shield after a drawn series that saw man-of-the-match performances from Alfie and Joey, while Lote Tuquiri bagged 5 tries for the series.

Looking back on this period with naive nostalgia can bring joy to even the most soured pessimist in our modern world, and a lot has changed since then. The population of New Zealand has risen by around a million people since the Bledisloe last left our shores, meaning there’s likely to be more than a million Kiwis who have never felt the crushing inferiority of losing at their national sport to a country that should be reminding them of their little-brother status. In Australia, we’ve seen as many Prime Ministers as we have Wallabies coaches (6), with equal amounts of success, while there’s around 6 million new Australians who have lived their entire lives with the Bledisloe Cup across the Tasman Sea.

So as we settle into what is sure to be another year of failure, one can only wonder if one day, just as veterans of the World Wars die out, there may not be a soul alive who can remember a Wallabies Bledisloe win. What will the world look like next time that cup is brought back to its home in Australia?

 

Fancy yourself as a bit of a writer? Got some unqualified opinion and unwavering bias you’d like to share with the world? Send it through to dyor@hellosport.com.au to be featured on the site

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Why Titmus’ Coach was Justified in Humping that Glass

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Why Titmus’ Coach was Justified in Humping that Glass

by Matthew Milikin

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Ariane Titmus’ win over American Katie Ledecky in the 400m freestyle this morning has to be considered as one of the best individual Olympic performances of all time.

To paint the picture, Ledecky is indisputably the best female swimmer of all time and at least top two of anyone alongside Michael Phelps. She has never been beaten in an individual Olympic event (until this morning).
 
In the 800m free Ledecky has 30 of the 31 fastest performances of all time. In the 400m Ledecky has the Olympic, world and junior world records. Her world record of 3:56.46 at the Rio olympics was the first time a woman had ever gone under 4 minutes in the women’s 400m free excluding a performance in 2009 with the super suits, and she did it by 3.5 seconds. She also holds the 1500m record.
 
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In the race this morning Ledecky went out in the first 200m in 1:57.44, finishing the second 200m in 1:59.92. Titmus swam the first 200m in 1:58.1 and the second 200m in 1:58.5. So against the GOAT distance swimmer Ledecky, Titmus swum 1.4 seconds faster in the second 200m of the race and only went 0.4 slower in her second 200m compared to her own first 200m. To have the fitness to be able to do this at an Olympic 400m is insane to say the least, especially when you consider that the first 200m of her race contained the first lap which was off a dive and clocked in at 27.88, considerably faster than the following 7 x 50m segments which were all high 29’s, low 30’s excluding the final 50.
 
Across the final 3 50m swims of the race, Titmus was faster than Ledecky by 0.5, 0.38, and 0.45 seconds respectively, crazy stamina when you are coming up against an athlete in Ledecky who is better than Titmus at distances over 400m and therefore should have more backend stamina.
 
In summary Titmus is a GOAT, fuck the US swim team.
 

Fancy yourself as a bit of a writer? Got some unqualified opinion and unwavering bias you’d like to share with the world? Send it through to dyor@hellosport.com.au to be featured on the site

 

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The Greatest Athlete in History: Aussie Woodchopper David Foster

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The Greatest Athlete in History: Aussie Woodchopper David Foster

DYOR Dave

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The great Don Bradman once said, “The finest of athletes have, along with skill, a few more essential qualities to conduct their life: with dignity, with integrity, with courage and modesty.” While Sir Don exemplified these values throughout his life, the incomparable career of David Foster embodies these qualities even more so than the Don, Cam Smith, Tom Brady, Usain Bolt and any other athletes that have ever been dubbed ‘The Goat.’

David Foster (OAM) was born in the woodchopper’s paradise of Tasmania, to a father who certainly knew his way around an axe. At just 21, David and his father George set up camp on the top podium of the 600mm Double-handed Sawing World Championship. They defended their title for 11 years in a row before George handed the reigns over to David’s brother Peter, who continued the family tradition and helped his brother to another 10 years of family glory.

In 2001 the World Sawing championships considered a permanent venue change to the Fosters backyard, as the 3rd generation of Fosters picked up the axe and just like his father before him, David ushered his son into the world of woodchopping.

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Not since the Hapsburg family ruled over Europe for most the last millennium has the world seen such a long and successful family dynasty, and perhaps if wood was as big a commodity now as it was in times past, the Fosters themselves may have ruled over vast kingdoms.

There’s no doubt that David would list his family as his proudest achievement, such is the humility and integrity of this great Tasmanian, however the record books tell a different story. Apart from winning the Australian Axeman of the Year nine times in a row, David has won over 1000 championships, including every competition in Australia and New Zealand.

He has broken world records, captained his nation for 21 years straight and irreversibly changed the game of woodchopping altogether. It was a no-brainer for the Australian Axeman’s Hall of Fame to put David and his wife in charge in 2004, as there wouldn’t be a square inch of that Hall that didn’t carry the great Foster name.

Away from the trees, David is a community man through and through, partnering with numerous charities such as aged care, men’s health, LGBTQ rights and several others. For his immense efforts on and off the field, he has been rewarded with countless honours, including the Tasmanian of the year, the ANZAC, Centenary and Order of Australia Medals, as well as being inducted into the Sport Australia Hall of Fame, just to name a few.

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So next time you’re sitting at a pub arguing about the greatest sportsman of all time, look no further than true blue Aussie hero David Foster. Just as The Don hitting a golf ball against a corrugated iron tank with a cricket stump has remained a part of Australian folklore, so should the image of David Foster chopping up firewood in the cold Tasmanian forests act as a cultural legend for all Australian’s to take inspiration from.

While Warnie may be living the celebrity life on the back of his own stellar career, there is no one in the world who deserves to be having sex parties with beautiful women than David Foster, although being the righteous family man that he is, Foster would politely decline. He leaves his woodwork to the axe, and that’s where it belongs in the Foster Family.

 

Fancy yourself as a bit of a writer? Got some unqualified opinion and unwavering bias you’d like to share with the world? Send it through to dyor@hellosport.com.au to be featured on the site

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I can’t name a single player: A Dribbler’s Preview of Wallabies Vs France

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I can’t name a single player: A Dribbler’s Preview of Wallabies Vs France

by The Eavesdropping Dribbler

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Maybe it’s the nostalgia of the early noughties, or my blatant ignorance of current affairs, but I still hope for victories whenever the Wallabies take the field. The golden men of Australia have in times past been the gold standard (pun intended) for rugby sides throughout the world. A dominant force that played expansive, exciting rugby, impressed in the stands and put numbers on the scoreboard.

I’m 28 now and I can distinctly remember Toutai Kefu scoring the winning try against the All Blacks in 2001 to win the Bledisloe and give our Captain John Eales the send off he deserved. Eales kicked the conversion and history was etched into the cup. What a time to be alive. I’m pretty sure I cried when we won and I can’t imagine feeling that way ever again. These were the high times for the Wallabies. A forward pack consisting of Stiles, Foley, Moore, Giffin, Eales, Finegan, Smith and Kefu were the driving force up the field and a lethal backline consisting of Gregan, Larkham (what a man), Roff, Grey, Herbert, Latham and Burke put the points on the board regularly. Matt Burke in particular kicked goals for fun, he was genuinely reliable between the sticks and was supported by Joe Roff who was just as capable. And then the bench had boys like Waugh, Walker, Flatley and Whitaker. That’s impact right there fellas.

Condensed, concentrated and distilled glory. Gentle on the pallet and a gift to the senses (via Fox Sports)
Condensed, concentrated and distilled glory. Gentle on the pallet and a gift to the senses (via Fox Sports)

Rugby Australia have a lot to answer for, it’s difficult to explain how the board could make so many mistakes so consistently and for such a long time. Frankly, It’s an impressive achievement to get so much success and fuck it off so completely in such a short time. But the money should be on the fact that the game is run almost exclusively by a shadow cabal of Ex-Players. It’s a commonly accepted fact that former players have too much say in the running of Rugby Australia, a business. If you’ve spent your prime years trucking nut and taking blows to the head then I’d say you are unqualified to speak on important strategic matters regarding operations of any institution. This is likely what led to the halting of funds trickling down to the junior clubs. Long lunches at Mr Wongs and parties of people sniffing their own farts and getting high on memories of times gone by have polluted the soul of our game.

No money to the locals means no advertising to the community and very few additions of fresh faced kids to the ranks. Alternatively, look at the NRL and AFL. Both spend time and money on recruiting youngsters to the game. Programs like Auskick have been a massive success and have caught kids like my 10 year old cousin who despite living in Sydney is a massive Richmond fan, damn turncoat. That’s how you generate future generations of quality, you need numbers coming in at the junior level.

I could speak on the prevalence of Rugby at private schools throughout the country and how they’ve been a bastion of the Rugby tragic. But don’t be fooled my friends. The accessibility of private schooling to the people is extremely limited, and if you think parents are sending their kids to private school with hopes of representing their country in rugby you are sorely mistaken. They’re sending them there to represent your kids in court and secure a section 10.

The supposed messiah, probably not though (via AAP)
The supposed messiah, probably not though (via AAP)

We’ve plowed through so many head coaches It boggles the mind. Robbie Deans was exciting until we shit the bed, then Cheika got the blood pumping as well until we ourselves were pumped. We’ve swung back to another kiwi in Dave Rennie and I don’t know how much he can polish this turd of a team.

So now we look to the looming Wallabies tour. We play France tonight. Can you name a single French player? I can’t. But that doesn’t mean for a second that I think we can beat them. Half our best players won’t be in the squad cause they all pissed off to Europe where the money is, and I don’t blame them. We have to beat this French team to get the ball rolling and we’re every chance of blowing that, such are the low expectations these days. This all rolls into the rugby championship/bledisloe. A win against Argentina would be nice. I think I can get my hopes up for that. I don’t even want to think about the spring tour in the UK. 

Things look bleak for the wallabies, that’s for sure. But a part of me will always be that kid parked 2 meters from the TV screaming my support for the green and gold. I’ll gear up for this game tonight and hope for the best. And honestly, that’s all we can do. Hope for the best.

 

Fancy yourself as a bit of a writer? Got some unqualified opinion and unwavering bias you’d like to share with the world? Send it through to dyor@hellosport.com.au to be featured on the site