G’day all!
My role
Crikey, guest columnist for G&GR? I laughed at the opportunity when I first put my name in the hat for consideration by the G&GR chiefs.
Who would have thought a boy from Logan City (south of Brissie) could reach such a lofty position. I suppose if Kevin Rudd and Wayne Swan can make it out of Nambour, there’s potential for us all.
So, my role? What is it that I’ll be doing over the next set-a-six? My ‘brief’ was to offer some insightful analysis into this whole World Cup caper. But I’m pretty sure that’s way beyond me. I guessing if I attempt this, I’ll probable achieve nothing more than illuminate the bloody obvious. So that’s out.
So, what I’m looking to do is to maybe dumb-down this whole RWC caper. To look at the search for TBJ (The Big Jug) from a different angle from the norm.
So hope that suits? If not, please exercise your option to vote me off GAGR Island.
What’s ahead of us?
Soooooo, it’s RWC edition five time, hey? I must confess, I’m yet to go all warm-n-fuzzy about the search for TBJ. I’ve been too busy helping my club, the Noosa Dolphins, to four losses from four in senior GF’s, to divert too much of the cabbage to it. But, it’s only early.
What are we to expect from this six week long smash-n-bash, kick-n-catch carnival around the land of the long white-sheep shagger to secure TBJ?
Quite a fair bit I reckon. It’s kind’s like drinking a nice cold beer. A good one is bloody awesome, and a bad one is still kinda bloody fantastic. Having been involved in a couple, they’re damn good fun as a player. Winning in 91 was, let-me-tell-you, a special time. Losing so spectacularly in 95, was also pretty damn good, though.
What’s in it for us punters? The lucky ones’ll be travelling across the ditch and catching a bit live. Us others will need to be content with either free-to-air or subscription tv to keep us up-to-date, informed and entertained. We can supplement this with a bitta print media, and radio.
I know one thing for sure, I’m going to be spending a fair bit of time on the couch over the next set-of-six. I have purchased a lap-top and special lying-on-a-couch-stable-table, where I can place food and/or my computer (should work interrupt me) and one that has a little compartment where my coffee or other bevies can be secured.
I also intend to eat lottsa, lottsa, lottsa little snackie things like cheerios, party sausage rolls and pies, Twisties and chocolate. The further we go along the search for TBJ, I’m guessing the bigger I shall become. Oh well, the game’s all about expansion.
What’s gonna be dished up?
Rugby, rugby, rugby. Is there any more frustrating-a-sport? Well, yeah, soccer probably. But still, rugby can annoy the livin’ beeeeejesus out of you. It can bore you. It can leave you with little more option than to check what’s goin’ on over at the bloody Discovery channel. But, fellow rugby people, it can also inspire us. It can entertain us; it can be frenetic, brutal (in a good way), and out-and-out spectacular.
I’ll be watching RWC 2011, not so much to see the good guys win (this is a given, of course), but to see what is produced. You know, the various styles that teams’ll dish up in their chase for TBJ.
Sooooooo, two dogs, what style of play will the various teams dish up? This depends on many components, such as prevalent weather conditions, team composition and individual team and coaches’ preferences. And maybe even historical/national preferences for doing all things rugby.
It’s no secret that there is a divide in way the game is played. And this divide flows between the Northern reactionaries and the Southern expressionists, as I like them to be termed. Give me the Southern expansionist style any day!
I reckon that’ll do for this week.
Can’t wait ‘till next week for a dose of Slattery? No wuckers, follow me on Twitter @pjslatts
