Hieronymous the Anonymous

Eye of the tiger

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I've just got home in time to see Tiger Woods win the Australian Masters. There was some controversy a few months back when it was announced that Tiger would be paid 3.3 million in appearance money to come downunder for the event. Aside from the standard wowsers there's no-one complaining today. His trip has been an unmitigated success. We've seen four days of sunshine and huge crowds following Tiger around at one of the best golf courses in the world, Kingston Heath. It's been a great fillip to the sport, great publicity for the course, and an economic boon for the city.

Tiger is a popular champion, but I was hoping one of the Aussies might get up. That they didn't is no great disappointment. Tiger Woods is a champion in the true sense of the world. No-one could begrudge his success because he is a man who truly deserves it.

History may will likely record him as being the best golf player of all time. He has great natural talent, but I doubt that is the secret to his success. He's a good man. Though he has every excuse to be, he is far from the arrogant champion. He is approachable, human, friendly, a good bloke in the Aussie vernacular. His ability, his unsurpassed success, gives him a kind of aura that is belied by his down to earth humility. He is a grounded man, blessed with great ability, and a temperament that comes from a good upbringing. For me this is what is most impressive about him. I think he has great natural ability, but so too many others. What he has that sets him apart is a steely resolve that demands nothing less than a superlative level of performance. It's all very well to set that standard, but to achieve and then to maintain it takes a lot of hard work, determination and great mental strength. Not for a moment does Tiger take it easy. Not for a moment does he take it for granted. His success is the product of that hard work and the confidence it creates, and the knowledge that if it can be done then he will do it.

That is what it takes to be a champion: a certain amount of ability, hard work, self belief, and a single minded focus on the goal ahead. Listen to Tiger speak through a tournament. He's affable, friendly, but - and no pun intended - he has the eye of the tiger. Anything else but a W against his name is extraneous to his aim.

I'm surprised at how positive this week has been. This afternoon in an interview with Tiger post match a child was quoted that seeing him in the flesh was a bit like seeing an action hero come to life. That explains in large part the crowds that have flocked to Kingston Heath this week: this was the chance to see the best of all time in the flesh.

Another sporting idol of a few years back has been in the news lately. Andre Agassi is releasing his autobiography and it's clear it's warts and all. He has been roundly pilloried in the last few weeks after admitting he took drugs once during his playing career, and lied about it. He's been candid about tanking matches and, more amusingly, about wearing a toupe early days. It sounds like a good read.

Agassi retired from tennis as a much loved statesman of the game. For myself I see no reason why that should change now. I admire his honesty, and don't really anything less. Former and current players are getting in a lather over the drug admission, but I think it pretty innocent. I may be naive, but I suspect the opposite. We live in an age where drugs are freely available, especially when you have ready cash. I expect most people of Agassi's generation have tried something - why should he be any different? I guess the argument is that he's a professional sportsman and is sworn by extension against drugs. He's also a human being, with the same flaws as the rest of us.

I take more seriously the admission of tanking matches, but find it easy to let it go after all this time. Sure he's a public figure, but I don't see why he should be more lily-white than the rest of us. I'm prepared to give him a break. He gave a lot more to the game than he took from it, and if we find he had feet of clay then so what? No great harm done.

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Hurting to win

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Two significant sporting contests for Australian teams last night.

In Muscat the Socceroos played Oman in a crucial Asian Cup qualifying match. I haven't seen any of the match, but they had what sounds like a pretty good win. Down to 10 men just 15 minutes into the game, the Australians kicked the winner with 8 minutes to go, after being a goal down early. Job done.

The other contest was the Four Nations Rugby League final between Australia and England in England. I'm a much bigger soccer fan than rugby league, but I'll watch anything Australia is competing in, and the truth is that at the top level it can be a pretty entertaining game.

Australia won, as most pundits would have tipped, but not before they were behind early in the second half. That was the end of the contest though. In the last 25 minutes of the game Australia scored 6 tries to nil, winning ultimately 46-16. A shellacking in other words.

I watched a replay of it this morning. It was hard not to be impressed by the Kangaroos, as the English commentators were. At their best the Australians play league like the Harlem Globetrotters play basketball. They're inventive, athletic and often spectacular. For a game that can seem agricultural at times they exhibit fantastic skill and vision. When it's this good it's fun to watch whether it's your game or not.

As the points mounted in the second half one of the English commentators bemoaned how England didn't deserve the scoreline. It happens sometimes that the final score is out of balance with the on-field action, but it's a rare thing. I disagreed with the commentator. Australia might have been great, but England were pathetic. They deserved every point against them.

If they had swapped jumpers and Australia been on the receiving end of a belting like that I'd be sick to my stomach right no. I can handle losing, I can accept that we won't always be the best team. I can even cop the odd thrashing when the effort has been there. That's what lacked today. Watching it from afar it seemed to me that once Australia started getting on top the English side virtually conceded. Game over.

It's a tough game on every level, and clearly the English were getting tired, but then that's what the contest is all about. It's rising to those challenges and overcoming them - or at least meeting them head-on. I mean, isn't that why we applaud great Olympians and sportsmen? It's not easy after all, you ache, you doubt, you ponder taking the easy way out - but while some will the champions won't. They raise another effort. They ignore their screaming muscles and gasping lungs, they defy the odds against them and just do it. Win or lose they keep going. And when they win it's a great thing to behold - the beauty of sport.

That's what England failed to even consider today. It was poor. It was my team playing them, but I was embarassed for the English supporters. And it seemed to me that the commentators attitude summed up much of the problem. Near enough is good enough - they didn't deserve this. Well, they did, and it's all they'll get until they realise that. To be the best you've got to be prepared to hurt. It's something Australian teams have long been aware of - and something they have relished - and England have yet to learn.

There were telling comments by the commentators. They were clearly in awe of the Australian team. One commenting what a privilege is was to watch as a neutral the sheer ability and class of the Kangaroos in top flight. His counterpart bitterly replied that he was sick of it. He'd had years of it and just when he hoped they might have a team to compete this happens. Another spoke of how dangerous it was to lead the green and gold because you always know they'll come back hard at you.

Why can't English teams fight back as hard? Why be in awe? Respect your opponent sure, be ready to blunt his weapons, but go hard for the win. I'm proud that Australian teams are famous for these qualities, but we don't have a monopoly on them. There is no reason why when the chips are down why our English opponents can't dig as deeply. Except, but rarely, do they.

Victory goes to the most persevering Napoleon once said. Let me add to that. Victory goes to the team more willing to hurt.

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Springtime in Melbourne: cruising

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Busy days these, don't seem to have much time for anything at the moment. Right now there's that kind of dizzying holiday feel, the sun shining, a festive vibe in the air and a lot to do before settling down to enjoy things.

What's to report? Melbourne Cup day was fine. Not so good on the punt, though I only had a couple of bets, but certainly enjoyed the amenities. Had a few laughs and ended the day in a Fed Square restaurant.

For what it's worth it's Oaks Day today or, as they call it these days, Ladies Day. I've had a few bets amongst doing everything else. I'm having another good day. Haven't bet heavily but am about $300 up and one win away from the quaddie. Fingers crossed.

I need to do well because I bought a new car today. I'm trading in my old A4 for a more recent - 2006 - model. Pretty much the same care but a bit swisher, and with the turbo a bit more responsive. My old car had good pick-up, but this one feels like a skittish horse on the starting line, dying to get going.

Otherwise made my usual rounds and have planted a few vegies and herbs out in the back garden. And I've started writing a zombie novel, for the fun of it.

At some point I should do some work.

*Yep, got the quaddie. Nice day at the office, um, not at the office.

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May the best horse win

It's Cup day today, a big day in town. It's a holiday here in Melbourne, and the rest of Australia will stop to watch.

I'm off again today, all dolled up to enjoy the hospitality and convivial atmosphere of one of the exclusive enclosures. The weather looks ideal right now - fine and mild, though showers are tipped for later. I wonder if I take the risk with an umbrella, but given the day is largely about gambling I might just chance.

In actual fact outside of the cup istelf it's an average day of racing. I'll be going multiples today rather than backing something in every race. I feel a lot more comfortable making a judgement on the better horses.

That's what I did last Saturday, Derby Day, where I had 5 winners on top, a couple of quinellas and was a very short nose off the quaddie. I picked up over $400, but it might have been over a thousand had the quaddie come home. Not to be.

For today I think Ortensia is a special in race 4. And for the cup I can't go past Bart. I backed Roman Emperor in the Caulfield Cup and he ran second. I think he may do one better today. The main danger is Viewed, last years winner, which may well be a champion horse. Otherwise keep an eye on Shocking, Master O'Reilly and Basaltico. Munsef is my roughie. Having said that it's a handicap, so any horse can win.

That's it for me, bottoms up and happy punting.

And now I know

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Predictably weary after a long day at the track yesterday. It was a beautiful day, perfect weather almost, marred by the fact that I now have a face that looks like a stop sign. Too much sun, but that's not really I should complain about. It was a fun day which would have been 'funner' had we a few more winners.

In fact I only score two second placings on the day, though at long enough odds that they provided a nice return. Had they been an extra metre forward I would have made close to $400, but not to be. Like so many sports horse-racing is a game of inches (or centimetres). 

There were three of us, JV, Donna and myself, all dressed up in our best clobber, casting an eye on the fashions on the field parade between (and sometimes during) races, picking at the passing platters of sausage rolls and mini-hot dogs, race-paper rolls, prawns and nori rolls. 

Each race JV and I would go to the rail to watch the race while Donna stayed in the enclosure. We were in the centre of the track in one of the corporate areas. Each race we would come away cursing some bad luck or a poor run, JV particularly, who bet much more extravagantly than me, and consequently lost a lot more than me. Then the big race came along.

As so many occasions with the Cox Plate it turned into a remarkable race. In the past many have become famous with close finishes and with backmarkers coming from a long way behind to flash home. Well this race was pretty well the opposite of this.

For pure competition there was little to get excited about - the winner won by about 4 lengths. And the backmarkers stayed where they were, with the two first places going to the horses who had led out of the gate. In fact that's one of the things that made it remarkable. It's rare to see a horse lead all the way. Many race followers will grown when their horse goes to the lead too soon, believing that they've blown it. Well yesterday the youngest horse in the race went directly to the lead and 2040 metres later was still there.

It was a strange race to watch. So You Think loped around in the lead, at one stage about 7 lengths in front of the third runner and 4 lengths in front of second. By the home turn the field had come together and it looked likely the two brave front runners might be swallowed up - but no.

Once more they went to the lead, making ground on the following pack before So You Think galloped away with it, his jockey, the great Glen Boss, standing tall in the saddle and waving his whip in the air as he passed the winning post.

It was a great ride, and Boss has a great record in the big races. He's a winning jockey, and it brought home to me afterwards a couple of truths I should have considered. My grandmother, a keen and very astute race follower would always say never to bet against 'Black' Bart Cummings (as she called him) in the cups. It's a rule I've generally followed since (though not always on the right Cummings horse). Glen Boss is another example of someone who does his best work in the big races. In combination they should be unbeatable - and they were.

I wrote yesterday that the Cox Plate is invariably won by great horses. I was sceptical that would be the case this year as the field seemed ordinary. I'm confident I was right now though. I think So You Think will be an absolute beauty. Watching him parade before the race I murmured something to JV about what a beautiful horse he is. Big and dark, and very leggy, and distinctly different from the other horses. He'll grow more, and he'll get better.

Strange you know, he actually reminded me of Rigby! There was that same uninhibited joy in racing around the track as what Rigby has around the house. So You Think looks and raced like a colt yesterday, but a mighty fine one. All he wanted to do was run it seemed, and run with the exuberance of a kid. Boss wisely gave it its head and the result was a famous win in a time second only to the great Might and Power.

I did my dough but I was content enough with that. Like most Australians I think Bart Cummings is a national treasure, as well as being some kind of genius. And in So You Think we saw a new star born. Watch him go now. Hard to see him losing in this race next year, and in time he'll be a special for the longer cups. I think he might be one of the greats of the race track.

So that was that. At the end of a long day Donna left us and JV and I moseyed in towards the city. We had intended to check out the soccer, but chose not to. Instead we had a beer at Fed Square and then a 4 course dinner at Bok Choy Tang overlooking the city.

Cox Plate

About to head off to Moonee Valley to watch the Cox Plate being run today. It is pleasant outside, blue skied and serene - a good day for it. The Cox Plate is a big race, and this a big day.

The Melbourne Cup overshadows the Cox Plate perhaps, but the Cox Plate is my favourite race on the racing calendar. The Melbourne Cup is the more democratic, the peoples race, and a handicap. That makes for some big finishes and the occasional long shot getting home. The Plate by comparison is a weight for age, and is almost invariably won by a great horse - Octagonal, Kingston Town, Northerly and Makybe Diva are all past winners. More often than not the select group of runners competing for the Cox Plate make up the best field all year.

Unfortunately that's not the case this year. Whobegotyou is the outright favourite this year, and it's hard to see him beaten on the tight Moonee Valley racecourse. I may be unfair, but I think he might struggle to run a place in some of the stellar fields of past years. A good horse, and a horse that may one day be a champion horse, it's not nearly in the class of the greatest winners.

Still, I'll likely have my money on him. His only real threat is Heart of Dreams I think, and the roughie is Zipping, a tough competitor. Guess we'll know soon enough, regardless, I'll be enjoying myself.

Living it up

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Much to share, no time to share it.

I'm sitting here at my desk with the sun shining outside and a headache splitting my head bi-laterally. It's almost 5pm, yikes, and at some point soon I have to have a shower and dress before the publisher gets here. We're off to a book launch tonight, Jeremy Oliver's Wine Guide 2010. There'll plenty of wine tasting naturally, good food, the wine of the year will be wheeled out and a good time will be had by all. You know I'm always up for a good time.

Notwithstanding a visit to the dentist yesterday, good times are abounding at the moment. It's that time of year, Spring, the weather improves, the sun comes out, Christmas is really only a hop, skip and a jump distant, and all the winter stuff is behind us. On top of that here in Melbourne is the Spring Racing Carnival. That's a pretty big deal.

I'm off on Saturday to the Cox Plate at Moonee Valley, and will be attending the Melbourne Cup just over a week later. I'm going plush this year, catered affairs with all laid on, pretty girls in their best frock and waering the annual fascinator, boys like me in the funky suit and tie. I'm even wearing a hat.

In the meantime the same old stuff - dinners, drinks, book launches and sundry celebrations.

Now I have to have my shower.

Unpredictable v unyielding | Cricket News | ICC Champions Trophy, 2009 | Cricinfo.com

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In the last ten or so overs in Centurion was found the very essence of Pakistan and Australia as cricket nations, and their beauty. It is why people love one country and so respect and fear the other. That another nation could have benefitted from this almighty slugfest adds to the value of this ICC Champions Trophy.

via www.cricinfo.com

This is true I think, and indicative of my belief that a country's sporting teams embody the national temperament and character. Form comes and goes, success is cyclical more often than not, whether they be short or long cycles, but ultimately the sportsmen who represent their country return to these truths regardless of the travails they have endured in between.

Year of the Cat

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As predicted, Grand Final day was wet and miserable. Not wanting to drive I caught public transport to the Cheeses home. This necessitated boarding a train full of footy supporters decked out in their club colours on the way to the 'G. I was happy to be going to a mates place, but casting my eye over them and overhearing their excited conversations I couldn't help but recall the few times in the past I have made the same journey as them, and what I felt. Attending the AFL grand final is one of the must-do events in your life. I've been to four.

It was the usual drill at the Cheeses, except this year rather than sitting and eating out in the sunshine we all gathered inside. Dark, heavy clouds hung low in the sky. The wind gusted driving the rain hard and battering anything that wasn't properly secured. It was cold like it was rarely in the winter proper. We boys stood by the barbecue as tradition demands clad in heavy coats.

The lunch was good, and the beer and the wine and the chance to catch up with long held friends, but the real business of the day was the footy. While the kids played in the next room and the women chatted sitting on the couch we boys dispersed around the room watched the action keenly, free with our opinions and explosions of comment directed at the TV.

It was a classically good game, old fashioned in a lot of ways, two tough teams going at each other hard, with the rain turning the game into a more basic contest stripped of many of the elements a lot of people associate with Australian rules football. I'm a purist, I love the spectacular athleticism and skill of the game, but for me what it is really all about is the contest: two teams fighting for the possession of the ball.

In hindsight it's very easy to say that St Kilda should have won. I was conscious in the first half as St Kilda dominated play, but squandered their opportunities thinking they may well pay for that. St Kilda missed 5-6 simple goals that they kicked wide or short, whether it be from inexperience or nerves or the wet conditions. By contrast Geelong nailed every one of theirs, and even managed a goal that wasn't. At half time St Kilda led by 6 points when they should have led by between 20-30 points - virtually unveatable in such conditions it wasn't to be though.

Games like this are all about taking your chances. It's hitting the mark when you have to, stepping up to execute when it counts. St Kilda did much of the hard work well, but failed to capitalise on it. You could say they should have won - and they dominated on every statistic - but should be's don't work in real life. It's not enough that something should be - you have to make it be. On that count St Kilda's loss was deserved.

Give a good team like Geelong enough chances and they're going to take some of them. So it proved. They took the hits and rode it out. In the end Geelong, aided by some good fortune, outlasted St Kilda to win a classic match.

I wanted the Saints to win, but I have a soft spot for the Geelong coach, 'Bomber' Thompson, who I think is a great man. That was that. While they celebrated we knocked off the rest of the red wine and ordered in some pizzas. Another year gone.

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The last Saturday in September...

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There are some bloody big days on the Melbourne sporting calendar - Melbourne Cup,the Boxing Day test, the Grand Prix, Australian Open final, and so on, but for me none is bigger than AFL Grand Final day.

I'm off tomorrow to the Cheese's for the GF barbecue they have every year. We'll have a snag or two, a few beers, a wine, a kick of the footy and the boys will gather around the TV to watch the big game. This is a scene repeated thousands of times around Melbourne,even in non-football following households. Fact of the matter is, regardless of result the day is a good excuse to get social and kick back regardless of result. It's one of those days the whole city and much of the country stop to enjoy.

I love it. I love the whole vibe, the grand final parade, the media, the face painting, the expectation you feel in the streets, the slowly focussing curiosity on the game. Most people have an opinion, and over a beer and amongst friends are unafraid of expressing it.

My team isn't playing tomorrow and so I don't have any stake in the game, and the two teams playing are reasonably inoffensive. Between them Geelong and St Kilda have been starved of success. Geelong won a couple of years and have been the dominant team of this era, but hadn't won since 1963; St Kilda famously won their only premiership in 1966. I hope St Kilda wins, but won't be upset if they don't.

Picking a winner is tough, and something I've been pondering all week long. St Kilda have been the best performed team all year, Geelong the next best but with a wealth of experience behind them. Drawing a line through recent form is tough too. Geelong had a very good win running away against a very disappointing Collingwood in their preliminary final. St Kilda had a much narrower win against far superior opposition in the Bulldogs. That was a quality, but low-scoring game that meant that the Saints needed to pull out all stops to win - and did.

Both teams are littered by great players playing well, but have contrasting styles. The Saints are quite possibly the best defensive team of all time. Geelong at their best play breathtakingly audacious football. St Kilda go wide, Geelong go through the middle. In large part that will be the tale of the day - will St Kilda shut down Geelong, or will Geelong break free.

Looking at the teams St Kilda have the better big forwards in Riewoldt - possibly the best player in the comp - and Koschitzke, compared to the erratic Mooney and the pup Hawkins. Schneider and Milne are handy small forwards but Johnson and Chapman at the Cats are all class. 

The midfield of both sides are great, but again there is a contrast in how they play. Geelong have great inside players with outside flair - Ablett (probably the best player in the comp), Bartel and Selwood. By contrast the Saints have very damaging outside players - Del Santo, Montagna, but Hayes is their only real inside player, though he's a beauty. Both have great stoppers in Ling and Jones. It's a good battle in the rucks, though the St Kilda pairing of Gardiner and King just shade Blake and Ottens. Ottens ability to go forward and be dangerous could prove critical on the day.

Both have fantastic back-lines. Scarlett for Geelong is the best defender in the league. Mackie, Enright and Milburn are all superb. Taylor is their weak point. St Kilda don't have the big names, but it is a great unit - Dawson has been great, Gilbert very good, and both Fisher and Goddard are stars. Really little advantage either way - so where is the difference going to come from?

There are a few variables to consider. Which team did have the better preparation? I'm inclined to think St Kilda. They had a much tougher match but an extra day to get over it. Geelong's win looked impressive, and was, but it was against a team which barely gave a whimper after half time. On the back of returning injured players and patchy form a good solid workout might have been better for them. And the lack of pressure is poor preparation for the big game against a team renowned for their pressure game.

Injuries is the next variable. There's been ongoing queries about Riewoldt's knee, but given he's been the best player of the finals series I don't think it's an issue. I think Johnson from the Cat's is a much bigger concern. He played very well last week after 4-5 weeks out, but in my experience it's often the second game back a player struggles. He's an important player, but I think he'll be quieter this week.

The third variable is the weather. For the first time in many years we look like playing a Grand Final in the rain. This definitely suits Geelong more. They are the bigger bodied team with great finals experience. They are more used to playing in the wind and rain down at Skilled Stadium than St Kilda playing under the roof at Etihad. And St Kilda rely more on their tall marking forwards.

So what does all this point too? A draw just about, and I think it will be close whichever way it goes. It may be the wild-cards that get one team or the other over the line. So what are the wild-cards?

For Geelong it's Ottens. He's a quality player coming back from a long term injury. He has the ability to go forward for Geelong and take the game by the scruff of the neck. I don't think he's ready yet, and weather won't suit him, but it's possible.

My St Kilda wild-card will surprise many. I think it's Goddard. He is so important delivering the ball with precision out of the back-line, but I actually think we might see him swung forward where he can do some damage, particularly on a wet day and with his kicking skills.

Most people are leaning towards Geelong, and I think more has to go right for St Kilda for them to win. If Riewoldt kicks 5 goals they'll probably win, but if he doesn't it doesn't mean they'll lose. I think Koschitzke needs to present though, and their out of form small forwards fire - if Milne and Schneider kick 5 goals between them then the Saints are home - that's my tip.

In the end I'm going with the Saints. I think they're ready, and I still have a feeling that the Cats aren't quite right yet. There's no doubt their best is better than St Kilda's, but these days their best is only rarely seen. I think it will be close all day, Geelong will surge occasionally, while the Saints will be steady, and in the end get over the line by about 9 points, with Riewoldt kicking the sealer at the 29 minute mark of the last quarter.

Final score, just for the hell of it, St Kilda 13.9.87 to Geelong 11.12.78.