A Canadian In New Basford

As regular readers of my column will know, I am getting slightly obsessed with football. I finally caved and bought Sky Sports last week so I could watch premiership matches this weekend, and of course it’s the one weekend of the year where there aren’t any. I’ve tried watching other English sports, but I just don’t see the appeal.

Take cricket, for example. It’s as boring as baseball, only it goes on for FIVE DAYS. When I lived in Australia, I went to the granddaddy of all Cricket matches, the Ashes. The single greatest cricket competition on earth. It's like the World Series of Cricket, except only two teams are allowed to play and one of them is a million times better than the other one. The only thing I remember about that match is when we sang “Shane Warne is a pae-do-phile, Shane Warne is a paeeeeeee-dophile!” over and over until he gave us the finger. Cricket is 100% more fun after you’ve necked five pints in quick succession. Cricket’s only redeeming feature is the fact that there is actually a foul called “ball tampering”.  Even now, it makes me laugh.  Ball tampering. Hee hee!

Tennis? The most action at the US Open this week was in Serena Williams’ bra.

Snooker? It’s like pool, except it’s played by people with the personality of a soggy crouton. If there was a competition for “plainest man alive”, Stephen Hendry and John Higgins would be the finalists every year.

Announcer: And now for the skills competition for Plainest Man Alive. Higgins is up first. What are you going to do for us John?

John Higgins:  I’m going to sit here quietly.

Announcer: Ooh, that’ll be tough to beat.  How are you going to compete with that, Steve?

Stephen Hendry: That’s Stephen

Announcer: Oh no you didn’t!  Boring AND annoying - that’s a devastating blow to John, and he knows it. The look of tired whimsy on his face just says it all. That is the face of a beaten man.

I would give anything to see one of these boys lose it during a match.  I don’t mean run around screaming maniacally, but would it kill them to drop an “Oh shit” once in a while? Hell, I’d settle for an “Oh, bother”.

One English sport that I really can’t get my head around is   Rugby. The Rugby World Cup is going on right now, and  sure, there is a lot more action in Rugby than most English  sports - but is it just me or is it really, really, really Gay? The  rules are incredibly complex, but as far as I can tell, the goal is to pull your buddy’s shorts off, grab his nutsack and stick your head up his ass until you touch rib. It would double as soft-core Gay porn if the players weren’t so ugly.  Only the Ultimate Fighting Championship could out-homoerotic Rugby.

But it’s not just me; even the announcers don’t know the rules. They play their own little game of “guess why the ref stopped play” every time the whistle is blown;

Stuart: Looks like the ball-bearer made a forward pass to the tight head.

Miles: I don’t think so, Stuart - I think the Samoan hooker stuck his feet too far into the South African scrum.

Stuart: Fuck, you get me hot when you talk like that. Let’s make out.

Miles: OK.

As rough and tough as Rugby tries to come off, what kind of weenie sport gives you points just for trying? Oh it was a good try, give that boy five points. We always give little Johnny points for trying, he’s a bit retarded and his mother turns tricks. Give the poor bugger a chance, will ya?

Maybe I’m being a little harsh on Rugby because Wales beat Canada today. Maybe I should watch another match that Canada isn’t losing in so I can take a more objective viewpoint, maybe then I’ll have something more positive to say about it. Yeah and maybe Julian Clary buys Playgirl for the articles.  Seriously, how good can a sport that flipping Wales is good at possibly be? It’s not right, I tell ya...