When 3,000 naked cyclists photobomb your wedding

What do you do when you collapse on a golf course and apparently stop breathing for three minutes? Well, you clamber out of your hospital bed, put on a pair of your loudest duds and turn up to play the following day smoking a cigarette. John Daly wasn’t about to let a pesky little lung…

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When espionage goes wrong… and other bad days at the office

Imagine for a moment you’re a South African cricket tactician. You’ve gone to the trouble of compiling a dossier on your Kiwi opponents, their batting weaknesses and how to bowl to them. You scribble the name of your most lethal bowler at the top of your handiwork, shove it under his hotel room door and…

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Be very quiet, we’re hunting Tiger

I’ve never written about golf before. It is, after all, a ridiculous sport, played by people with a masochistic streak and a toddler’s sense of fashion, who spend more time walking after the ball than actually playing it. Watching golf warps time. You switch on the telly on Friday and before you know it the…

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