Category: sport

Mud & Sunsets

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It’s been a great afternoon. About half way through the Bulls versus Crusaders Super 14 semi-final, with the score a tantalising 27-23, Mrs 6k decided that it would be a good time for us to take the kids up to the local school field, let them run around and let me not watch the end of the rugby. Her plan was extremely successful on both counts.
But I’m glad we went. The kids enjoyed the mud on the churned up fields after the morning school rugby games and I booted a properly shaped ball around, chased Alex and took photos of the sky and the mountains.

I was even allowed to look up the Bulls score on the way home. Result. Literally.  

I was working hard on the first Peroni of the weekend when I glanced outside to see a completely orange sky. Now, I’m very used to blue, quite used to black with tiny white dots in and sadly, becoming used to grey again, but orange is still a bit of a novelty.

Quickly grabbing the point-and-shoot camera – mainly because I wanted to take photos and it’s the only camera I own – I ran outside, climbed on top of the braai, pointed and shot. I should probably inform readers at this point that we have a built-in braai and it wasn’t a Weber or one of those rubbish disposable things. That would have taken a monumental amount of balance or made absolutely no difference to my overall height whatsoever. Or both.
No, our braai is pretty big.
Fortunately the sky is also pretty big and I was able to not miss on a number of occasions. This probably being my favourite hit.

Although I quite like this one too. You can see the whole lot of them on flickr and make your own decision.

And once again, I must remind you lovely people that taking good photographs in Cape Town isn’t difficult. Most of the work is done for you. So yes, despite the fact that I think some of these are “good”, once again, none of them are exceptional. And, once again, I’m left wondering if I can at least partially overcome the paucity of my talent by buying a better camera.

The alternative, of course, is to spend that camera money on beer, and then see if my creative abilities are augmented by imbibing (what I calculate to be) about 1,000 bottles of Amstel. Being a scientist, I am tempted by the idea of exploring both possibilities as fully as possible.

Tears…

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One part joy, two parts relief.
Well done, boys!

More tomorrow…

It’s tomorrow, and here’s the match report, featuring some sporting words from Preston manager Alan Irvine:

I can’t speak for previous play-offs and it wasn’t down to luck this time in any case.
Sheffield United were better than us in both games and deserved to go through overall.

Compare and contrast that with Didier Drogba…

Written on my Sony Ericsson XPERIA X1 after one of the most nerve-wracking 45 minutes of my football-watching life.

Tom Henning Ovrebo

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Was it just yesterday that I complained that there wasn’t enough drama in the Arsenal v Man U UEFA Champions League semi-final to keep me interested? Well, evidently Tom Henning Øvrebø was reading while (possibly) getting instructions from various betting syndicates across the shadier parts of Europe. And he offered me some lovely Stilton to go with my previous evening’s chalk.

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Our Tom

I don’t think I have ever seen a more biased or inept refereeing performance in my life. Well, not one that didn’t involve Sheffield United or a match I was playing in, anyway. The refs always seem to be bent in those matches.
For me as a neutral to have been so disgusted at it tells you what the Chelsea fans must have thought. As does the fact that there are death threats against Mr Øvrebø all over the internet and the fact that he had to be smuggled out of the UK by police.
He must be thanking his lucky stars that the annual gathering of the Uncle Fester Lookalike Organisation was held in London this week, affording him some form of protection.
Now, I’m certainly not condoning the death threats, nor do I support the antics of Didier Drogba, who turned dramatically to the camera as he left the field at the end of the game and shouted, quite audibly:


“It’s a disgrace! It’s a [naughty word] disgrace!”

But I can quite understand why he felt that way. Because it was a [naughty word] disgrace. I mentioned this whole thing in February, when Peter Walton made mistakes in the Blades cup tie at Hull City. Once again, a referee has not done the job he is paid to do. And it’s cost Chelsea millions of pounds. Sod the fact that Roman Abramovich can afford it – that’s beside the point.

Drogba and teammate Michael Ballack will surely face disciplinary hearings over their actions last night. I would guess that Bosingwa and Lampard, who have also spoken out will be in trouble too. But what of the overweight baldy from Norway, smuggled back to Oslo by police overnight? What action will he face?

Well, if Euro 2008 is anything to go by – not much. Øvrebø refereed one match there and made so many errors that he was removed from the referees list for the rest of the competition. But UEFA still obviously trust him to have another go at making costly errors in big games. Surely that’s got to be it now, though?

Til next time, right?

EDIT: I was on John Maytham’s show on Cape Talk last night discussing this point.

EDIT 2: Drogba has issued a formal apology.

EDIT 3: 5fm reporting that Chelsea will dump Drogba at the end of the season and not renew his contract.
Really?

Inappropriate photo 101

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I settled down to watch the ding-dong battle between Arsenal and Manchester United last night, only to have my wish for an exciting game ruined in the first 12 minutes by some dodgy defending, some dodgy refereeing and some dodgy goalkeeping, all of which left Arsenal needing to score 4 times to win the tie and left the game as good as dead.

I was irritated. But at least it wasn’t my team that lost. Heavily.

It was Suleiman Alphonso Omondi’s team though and he could apparently take no more, as Sport24 reports:

Nairobi – An Arsenal fan in football-mad Kenya hung himself following his team’s 4-1 aggregate drubbing by arch-rivals Manchester United in the Champions League semi-final, police said on Wednesday.
Suleiman Alphonso Omondi, a 29-year-old Kenyan living in the capital Nairobi’s Embakasi neighbourhood, hung himself in his Arsenal shirt late Tuesday after the match, police said.

“We were watching the match at Bamba 70 pub, and when Arsenal was defeated, Suleiman just walked out in protest and he was crying,” Calvin Otieno, one of his friends, said.
“We didn’t know he was going to hang himself until Wednesday morning when we received the reports and came here to find his body at the balcony,” Otieno said outside the deceased’s home.

Tragic tale – and one which, if nothing else, demonstrates Suleiman’s passonate support for his team.

But having reported the story, which staff reporter looked through the files for an appropriate photo to use and came up with this?

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Arsenal players training

Was there really no other shot available? Cesc Fabregas in full flight? An upset or angry Arsenal fan at the Emirates, maybe? Perhaps a pic of the scoreboard or one of the Bamba70 pub? Even one of ugly Ronaldo. Ugh.
In fact, anything  that doesn’t feature an apparently slumped black man being dragged away, really.

Is it just me or was the choice of this particular photograph mildly inappropriate?

EDIT: Sky News gets the story and uses Arsenal badge as graphic. Better.

You fill up my senses…

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Today’s the day.

At 1315 BST, Sheffield United will kick off their game at Crystal Palace and about several miles away, Reading will kick off against Birmingham City. Between them, the results of these two games will determine who will be promoted into the Premiership.
This might not have a huge impact on your day, but it is already having a huge effect on mine. I can’t eat anything (apart from bagels for breakfast and a satsuma), I can’t drink anything (although, if I’m fair, I have managed a couple of cups of coffee) and I can’t sleep. But that’s because I have a teething daughter.

A touch of spice is added by the fact that the manager of Crystal Palace is a lifelong Sheffield United fan and therefore wants Palace to win (as it’s his job) and United to win (because of his emotional ties).
And before anyone says – “Well, how about a draw, then?”, that won’t be good enough for United. 

So – all to play for and it is thus, I sing the Oath of Allegiance:

You fill up my senses…
Like a gallon of Magnet.
Like a packet of Woodbines.
Like a good pinch of snuff.
Like a night out in Sheffield.
Like a greasy chip butty.
Like Sheffield United.
Come fill me again.

And now I must go, because my daughter is hitting herself repeatedly over the head with an orange  plastic cricket bat. That’s the influence of the IPL.