What World Twenty20?

Virat bloody Kohli. He sledges like an Aussie, so much so he could probably earn an honorary place in our team. But in his latest outing, he let his bat do all the talking. It was a lethal conversation, at the end of which Australia was no longer in the World Twenty20. Since then, we’ve…

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Why Chris Gayle’s comments matter

Within minutes of Chris Gayle propositioning reporter Mel McLaughlin on national TV, one bloke tweets: “Waiting for the attack of the feminazis after that interview.” You wonder if he sees the irony in what he’s written, his own sexism towards anyone who takes issue with Gayle’s sexism. Sitting at home watching it all unfold, you…

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The Ashes blame game

There wasn’t that much cricket, just eighteen days in all So we’ve taken up another sport in lieu of bat and ball Our batsmen forced our hands, for they just refused to linger And here begins the game called Let’s Point the Ashes Finger. *** The rot set in when Pup announced he’s hanging up…

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How to handle a gloating Pom

There’s no sugar coating this. Today is going to be hell in the office if you work with a Pom. Heaven help you if you’re an Aussie working in London. If that’s you, get the hell out of Dodge. At the very least, chuck a sickie or quit your job. But we don’t have to…

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Man punches shark

Aussie mums to be, throw away the baby name books. There are only two  you need to know. Mick and Mitch. Call your child either one of these, even if it’s a girl, and they’ll grow up to be a be a dead set legend. Exhibit A: Mick Fanning Sees off Kelly Slater in the…

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We need to talk about Shane

In recent weeks, we’ve seen some gutsy stuff from a number of Aussie sportspeople. Surfer Sally Fitzgibbons burst an eardrum in the second round of the Fiji Pro. No problem. She bandaged up her head, ignored doctors’ orders and went out and won the title. Basketballer Matthew Dellavedova played himself into the ground for the…

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To sledge or not to sledge

It all starts when Dave Warner says wistfully he wants to tone things down in the backchat department. Go for it mate, says Captain Clarke. No one asked you to be an arsehole anyway. Let’s make the whole Ashes campaign sledge-free, says Jimmy Anderson, unravelling himself from the lotus position. That series we played against…

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Friday funnies: And the numpty of the week is…

You have to wonder at the particular brand of knuckle-headedness that governs cycling. This week, at the Giro d’Italia, there was a positive story to be had. Not the failed drug test kind of positive but a solid gold good news story. Worthy of a Chariots of Fire soundtrack. That good. The scene opens on…

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I’m an English cricketer. Get me out of here!

Scene: The middle of nowhere. PETER MOORES sits on a log in front of a campfire, frowning, a spreadsheet on his lap. Ten men emerge from the bushes in dirty cricket whites. They reach the campfire and slump to the ground. One starts burning a cricket bat to keep them all warm. JAMES ANDERSON: What…

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How do we build on the legacy of these two men?

They were born almost 60 years apart, yet died within months of each other, both at the hands of the game they loved, one felled by a ball, the other by the long-term effects of not wearing a hat. Through that game, they are both forever linked to the number 63, one by virtue of…

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Cometh the hour…

When Michael Clarke announced Sunday’s World Cup final would be his last one-day international,  one New Zealand cricket writer accused him of hijacking the occasion. His name’s Jonathan Millmow. Yep, I’d never heard of him either. Millmow played for New Zealand for a nanosecond 25 years ago. He never made the Test team but took…

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