Posts Tagged ‘rugby

02
Apr
12

The Pink Bulls. Let’s Have That Conversation

Bulls-Away-227x300I hover very much around the periphery when it comes to sports in general, only really getting excited about them when World Cups come around.

It’s a huge failing I have as a man and it’s lead to a bazillion awkward conversations when well-meaning strangers ask my opinion about something sporty only to be met with an expression so blank, for a second it looks like I’ve actually died.

So I’m probably not the best-suited person to comment on anything vaguely sport-related, but none the less, I think it needs to be said that the Blue Bulls’ new away jerseys make me want to tear my eyes out.

Back in highschool there were only two sports that were offered in winter – rugby and hockey. If you played rugby you were one of the MANNE! You were one of the BOYCHAYS! You were a flippin’ TUFF OU who didn’t take no kak from nobody.

 

 

Conversely, if you played hockey, you were obviously a homosexual.

This retarded segregation lead to me opting for “social squash” as a winter sport, which I played exactly once with my dad’s wooden racquet from the 1960s which I broke in a fit of rage when I discovered how shit I as at squash.

Anyway, the point I’m getting to here is that from our early teenage years as men growing up in South Africa, it is drummed into us that playing rugby is the very pinnacle of what it means to be a man.

For years this Paleolithic classification of manliness put me off the sport entirely until Jake White lead one of the best Springbok teams I’ve ever seen to victory at the 2007 Rugby World Cup.

 

 

Watching that team literally mow down the competition along the road to victory gave me a new respect for rugby because holy shit, those guys were running onto the field, game after game, like a buncha fucking berserker warriors, and destroying EVERYTHING!

You’d have to be a robot or something not to feel inspired watching South Africa dismantle the teams we came up against – it was blood for blood by the gallon and by god, we were ready for war.

Since then I no longer fall into a waking coma when someone switches the rugby on because professional rugby players are tough as nails and while the finer points of the game are still lost on me, I get a kick out of watching ous getting chewed up in bone-crunching tackles and steamrolling the opposition to score tries against impossible odds.

I don’t think there is a sport on this earth where the players put their bodies on the line like they do in rugby (with the possible exception of ice hockey) so why the fuck would you dress those players in the pinkest uniforms I’ve seen outside of a gay pride march?!

 

 

Sure, I know what you’re thinking – the notion that pink is not a manly colour is ridiculously sexist, small-minded and prescriptive and that I’m no better than the guys back in highschool who thought all hockey players were gay.

But still, there are certain things that are burned into our consciousness from a very young age, certain basic associations we make that stick for life. One of which (in Western society anyway) is that blue is for boys and pink is for girls.

Of course any half-intelligent reader will stop me at this point with the inevitable “the fact that YOU aren’t comfortable with a team of rugby player wearing genitalia-pink jerseys says more about YOUR insecurities as a man than it does theirs” to which I’ll respond by saying “well done” while I pat you on the head because this is not about me.

 

 

This is about a team who, while they might not have been the favourites to win against the unbeaten Stormers, still took a good 40 minutes to get on the scoreboard after a disappointing first half.

There’s no denying they fought tooth-and-nail in the second half as they drew level with the Stormers, but where was that same single-minded determination in the first half?

It was in the changeroom where they left it the minute they jogged out on the field pinker than a My Little Pony themed birthday party.

Confidence in sport is everything and sure all chauvinistic stigma aside pink is just a colour, but I’d be willing to bet good money that at least a handful of Bulls players on Saturday ran onto that field thinking “I can’t fucking believe I’m wearing this…”

-ST

15
Mar
11

Okes Who Like To KLAP IT #1

There’s nothing flippin’ more lekker than getting together with a bunch of okes who are MASSIVE AND RIPPED and MOERING other okes stukkend! When a oke can do this with his chommies he feels a POWERFUL sense of comrahderie because he’s one of the MANNE and no other oke can mess with him!

On Saturday I watched the tightest group of chommies I’ve seen in flippin’ AGES run up and down a field and MOER the flippin’ SHIT out of these other okes who weren’t that tight and probably could have used another 4 sessions a week in the gym, KLAPPING IT, instead of sitting around on their arses being flippin’ USELESS.

 

 

The group of chommies I’m talking about here call themselves WOLFPACK RFC and jislaaik, these guys are a buncha TUFF OUS! Saturday was their first rukby game against some moffie team who I forgot the name of and charnas, all I can say is the moffie ous lost something like 40 – 11 and it was embarrassing how kak they were.

 

 

But the thing that showed me that these okes were TIGHT, as TIGHT as okes can be was after the game they had a lekker huddle and howled like real life WOLFS and then KLAPPED PUSHUPS BOET! Lekker FAST AND HARD right there on the field!

Then after the pushups the okes jumped into an INFLATIBLE POOL and had a lekker jol together hugging each other and showing their flippin MASSIVE AND RIPPED muscles to the belters that were running around, unable to control themselves cause the okes were MONSTERS!

 

 

After that many, many cold beers were klapped and tales told of the EPIC game that was WOLFPACK RFC’s first ever rukby match and all I can say okes is well flippin’ done guys, at this rate you will KILL pretty much any team that is flippin’ dumb enough to think they can TOUCH YOU.

Keep on klapping!

-ST

21
Jan
10

The One Thing I Feel Is Missing From The Interweb

I’ve been using the interweb since the day it was first launched way back in 2007, and as such, I consider myself one of the leading experts on anything to do with the literally hundreds of things you can do on the interweb.

 

 

Don’t believe me? Fine. Here’s a list of all the things I’ve mastered on the interweb so far:

  • Gmail – remembering my password and login name, sending, receiving and forwarding electronic mails and spotting scam emails in a second, Fishers beware!
  • Facebook – becoming friends with people from as far afield as Cape Town, Bloemfontein and Durban in real time. Also, I’ve ‘friended’ three people from outside the continent, all of whom are influential businessmen from thriving countries such as Nigeria and Zimbabwe. These businessmen are trusting me with literally millions of dollars of money they’ve inherited now that I’ve given them all my banking details. Can you say CA-CHING!
  • Google – searching for online information on anything from stock markets to unit share prices to Federal Intelligence Agency files, you name it! Have also mastered boolean algorithms like TYPING SEARCHES IN ALL CAPS TO MAKE IT GO FASTER
  • Porn – watching any kind of porn I want, like robot sex machines, or midgets FOR FREE, ANYTIME I WANT! Um, except for at work… some guy used all our bandwidth in two days awhile back, right after I first started, and now certain sites are banned…
  • Twitter – getting thousands of followers by clicking a simple link. I’m definitely winning at Twitter, the aim of which is to get more followers than your friends so you can tell them what song you’re listening to, what you’re eating and what it was like the last time you went to the loo

Now that I have your respect and you can see the mad interweb skillz I have, I’ll tell you something that I always thought was missing from the interweb.

If you’re instant chatting with a friend or family member and are in a friendly mood, on the interweb you can send them a ‘^5!’ which isn’t some kind of strange maths equation (don’t worry, I also thought that), but actually a really ‘sick’ way of writing ‘high five!’.

 

 

Off the chain.

There is even a variation which I managed to decode in a mere matter of weeks which is ‘v5!’. No, this doesn’t mean Version 5! it actually means ‘low five!’, which people use to indicate that they want one ‘down-low’ instead of ‘up-high’.

What I believe is missing is the kind of ‘five’ you see in a lot of sporting games like rugby, soccer, cricket, hockey, ice hockey, football, American football, tennis, croquet, darts, badminton, judo, pole vaulting and shuttlecock when the one guy does scores a goal or shuttles his cock really well and his team mate gives him a jocular pat on the arse.

 

 

My buddy Stikey felt the same way and actually took things a step further and went ahead and invented the ‘*5!’ which is used to indicate a jocular pat on the arse.

So far I’ve tried it out on a number of my buddies with pretty damn hilarious consequences. Here’s some IM chats copy / pasted for your reading pleasure. In this one I was mid sentence when I did a complete 360 degree turn and launched into it:

me: sure, im down with that we’re organis- hey, what the fuck?!
  dude, it’s Elvis!
name withheld: where?!
me: (*5!)
  hahahah! too easy
name withheld: hahaha
  you threw me off guard there
  i even looked!
me: you have no idea what just happened, but you feel violated
name withheld: i feel let down that elvis hasnt showed up 🙁

Classic! Then there was this chat that happened yesterday:

me: have you been there with [name withheld]?
  be honest
name withheld: no. some married complication.
me: cool
  never cross that line
  shit gets ugly
name withheld: you been there?
me: nigga please!
name withheld: did his wife find out?
me: actually,
her wife found out
  and joined in!
name withheld: ^5!
me: ^5!
  hahaha!
  hey, look it’s elvis!
  (*5!)
name withheld: *facepalm

See what I mean?! Flip, I really think I’m onto something here. Thing to do is start *5!-ing all your friends as soon as possible, and let’s spread the word of this awesome way to interact / practise borderline sexual harassment over the internet.

 

 

I really think this has legs guys, I really think this could be the thing that I will be remembered for in days, nay, weeks to come over the interweb. So let’s all band together and sprea-

Hey, what the fuck?! Is that Elvis scrounging around in that dustbin?

(*5!)

Heh heh heh.

It’s THAT easy 😉

-ST