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Why do they even bother?
Next week, FIFA will sign off on the bid by Saudi Arabia to host the 2034 World Cup.
Nothing to see here, folks!
Human rights abuses? What human rights abuses, officer?
And you know what? Now that FIFA thinks about it, allowing the Saudis to host the World Cup might actually be good for the political prisoners, the gays, the activists, and pesky journalists critical of their regime who might otherwise be dismembered by bone saws.
“It is important to note,” FIFA gravely intoned, “that the bid involves significant opportunities for positive human rights impact. There is good potential that the tournament could serve as a catalyst for some of the ongoing and future reforms and contribute to positive human rights outcomes for people in Saudi Arabia and the region that go beyond the scope of the tournament itself.”
FIFA president Gianni Infantino with Saudi sports minister Prince Abdulaziz bin Turki Al Faisal.Credit: Getty Images
I repeat: Why do they even bother?
Why not say the truth? Say this: “We’re like LIV golf, and all those who sail on her. We don’t give a stuff about human rights abuses. We just want the billions.”
Does anyone – anyone serious, I mean – actually dispute that?
I thought not.
I’ll be in my trailer.
This year, as discussed, is the 50th anniversary of the beginning of “streaking” at sports events – started by a young accountant from Melbourne, Michael O’Brien, who removed his kit at Twickenham during a rugby Test between England and France and charged to the other side of the pitch before . . .
’Allo, ’Allo, ’Allo, what have we got here, then?
. . . being invited down to the station for a little chat.
But how funny I should say that, because we are now nearing the 50th anniversary of another amusing episode of similar ilk, this time in Test Cricket, at the MCG.
See, I know Gerard Noonan as a famed former editor of the Australian Financial Review, a sober-suited, button-downed bloke, albeit with an engaging sparkle in his eyes. This week, he told me where the sparkle came from.
Gerard Noonan (left) during his time as editor of the Australian Financial ReviewCredit: Fairfax Media
See, nigh on 50 years ago, on the opening day of the MCG Test of 1974, Gerard was a long-haired lout with a belief in the philosophy of anarchism and an idea. Why not take the piss out of the umpires? Why not see if he could win a bet by nicking a bail?
How, exactly? Just watch him and another mate, Damien Bonnice.
While the other 67,000 patrons that day had packed beer and sun-cream, Gerard and Damien had packed a white shirt, black pants, white shoes and white hat. As a rain delay looked to be coming to an end, they ducked to the loos, put on their kit, and jumped the fence just near where the umpires were due to come out.
They’ll have to dodge the newly posted ring of 26 policemen around the ground, put there to prevent . . . streakers . . . but the moment comes when the cop in front of them wanders over to have a yarn to his colleague. After taking a deep breath, they jam on their white hats and jump the fence, to start striding purposefully to the pitch, even as they can hear the voice of who else but Alan McGilvray, coming from 10,000 transistor radios.
“And here are the umpires now, coming out to inspect the pitch …”
Wait! The cop has turned back from an ice-fight ruckus that has broken out at Bay 13, and sees them! Is it all over?
No, the cop actually salutes them, as they carefully make their way past him! Anarchists 1, Constabulary 0.
Gerard and his mate keep walking, ignoring both the groundskeeper who yells at him to “F— off!” and the shrieking mob of Bay 13 who have picked the ruse quicker than McGilvray, and are going off, with joy! This is better than an ice fight.
“It was the first and only time I had heard the roar of the crowd for me,” Gerard told me this week, “and I loved it, until . . .”
Police escort bogus umpires Gerard Noonan and Damien Bonnice from the MCG as umpires Tom Brooks and Robin Bailhache return to the field. Credit: Fairfax Media
Until . . .
’Allo, ’Allo, ’Allo, what have we got here then . . .?
Taken in hand by a likeable cop as the real umpires make their way onto the field, Gerard says to the man in blue, ”Oh, go on. Let us go? And can we at least have a chat to the real umpires?”
And the cop agrees!
For thirty seconds the two interlopers chat with the famous umpires Tom Brooks and Robin Bailhache.
“So what do you think, boys?” Brooks asks. “Should we start play again or not?”
“Yes, Mr Brooks,” Gerard says, his anarchism momentarily forgotten, as he seeks a return to order. “The light’s good and the mob wants to see the cricket. Let’s get it underway.”
“I think we’ll do exactly that,” Mr Brooks says. “Now f— off!”
Meantime, I guess for 99.9 per cent of Australians, the passing of the former Test cricket opening batsman Ian Redpath this week, at the age of 83, was just one of those quick news stories that comes and goes with barely a blip.
Not for me, though, and not for lots of blokes in their 60s, who were once little boys and remember him as the rock of the Test line-up we so adored.
Personally, and I kid you not – if you’ll forgive the indulgence – he featured large in an endlessly repeated childhood fantasy I had. Every bright morning of summer after I woke up, as I walked purposefully with my cricket bat out to where Dad had suspended a cricket ball on a cord hanging from a gum tree branch, I, too, could hear the great ABC cricket commentator Alan McGilvray describing in his dulcet tones the final day of the deciding Ashes Test.
“And here’s FitzSimons and Redpath, coming out to open the batting for Australia,” he would say, as I, with studied nonchalance, adjusted my baggy green cap. “They have a very big job in front of them indeed. Australia needs some 361 runs to win this Test match against England, and it is absolutely crucial that they get off to a good start. . .”
Ian Redpath (centre), with Australian teammates Max Walker and Keith Stackpole in 1973.Credit: Ton Linsen
Ian Redpath and I had already decided that I was the one who should take strike, because we both knew I could handle the bouncers of the English tearaway fast bowler John Snow better than he could, and it was necessary that he should ease himself into the day.
Centre please, umpire. I brush away a few pesky gum leaves, hold the bat absolutely upright beneath the ball on the string, and take strike.
Tap. Tap. Tap. SMACK!
“Four! That was a boundary from the moment it left the bat, a lovely cover drive, and this young man FitzSimons certainly looks in a confident mood this morning . . . Lindsay?”
Redders would then come up the pitch to congratulate me, while reminding me this was Test cricket and to settle down a bit. As the morning sun shone down upon us, and we started carving chunks from the English total, I, in turn, would encourage him, sometimes passing on tips my Dad had told me, “Left arm up!” “Straight bat!” “Keep your eyes on the ball.”
Of course, Redders and I won the day. And if there was still time before Mum called me for breakfast, I’d go and win the Davis Cup with my good friends John Newcombe and Tony Roche – with Redders always in the players box, cheering us on.
Vale, Ian Redpath.
I never met you, but you were my childhood hero, up there with Dennis Lillee.
Paul Vautin, who announced his retirement this week, recalls the time on The Footy Show they had a chilli-eating competition: “They told us about three months later that about eight doctors had rang the studio saying, ‘Listen, get them to hospital right now because what they’ve done they could die’. They never told us that. The skin’s only just growing back on my freckle 20 years on.”
Dan Snow, on the new social media platform, Bluesky: “I do worry about boys playing sport with girls. My daughter plays on the boys rugby team and she dwarfs the poor little fellas. She leaves a trail of flattened bodies & broken dreams as she storms through the centre like a Valkyrie.”
Former tennis No.1 Simona Halep on the Iga Swiatek situation versus her own treatment for a positive drugs test: “I sit and wonder, ‘Why such a big difference in treatment and judgment?’ I can’t find, and I don’t think there can be, a logical answer. It can only be bad will on the part of ITIA, the organisation that did absolutely everything to destroy me despite the evidence.”
Queensland Premier David Crisafulli: “Today we fire the starter’s gun on Brisbane 2032 after 1,200 lost days. This is day 1 of 100 in fixing the Games chaos and locking in a plan that benefits every Queenslander with infrastructure and investment across the State. We will put QLD back on the path to victory for 2032.” I see blowouts, bad blowouts, ahead. Brace. Brace. Brace.
40-year-old Formula One driver Lewis Hamilton, seventh in the current drivers’ standings: “I know I’ve still got it. It’s just the car won’t go any faster.”
Wallaby Rob Valetini after the loss to Ireland: “The narrative around the Wallabies wasn’t that good, just like people putting us down and I think ever since I’ve put on the jersey, I’ve always wanted to change that narrative and be part of the team that changes it back to good things.”
Valetini: “I think the Wallabies were great, and I think we’re building something nice here and if I could just make the jersey better, because you know you only borrow the jersey, it’s not something you keep and if I could leave it at a better place … I’d be happy with that.”
Essendon president David Barham: “All I can say is we’ve got 20 years of history of taking quick fixes and shortcuts and it hasn’t worked. So what we have to do now is have the courage to do the work and stay the course.”
Max Verstappen not a fan of fellow F1 driver George Russell: “He [Russell] is always polite in front of the cameras, but in person he is completely different. I can’t stand that. Then it’s better to just f— off. I don’t want anything to do with him.” I think he sounds sincere.
Terrell May on the social media rection when the Roosters decided to cut him: “I saw lots of people saying I’m a bad influence to the team. It’s the stupidest stuff. I wanted to clear the air. I come from Mt Druitt. I’m tatted up. I’ve got a ratty (rat’s tail). I dress and talk like a westie. People assume ‘This guy has done this, his family has been in the paper.’ [That it’s] bad stuff because of where I’m from and my last name, they assume this and that.”
Australian Women’s sevens team. Led by Bella Nasser, won the Dubai Sevens women’s final.
Jakara Anthony. The Australian freestyle skier confirmed her place as an Australian winter sport great with a record 42nd career podium finish at a FIS World Cup event.
Wallabies. Even though they dropped the last two Tests, it feels like they have turned a very big corner on this tour. Whatever happens next year, we, the Australian rugby community, will be going into the Lions tour believing our blokes can do it.
Todd Greenberg. Becomes the new CEO of Cricket Australia – a role he was born to play.
RIP Ian Redpath. Aussie Test cricket legend passed away 83, the last man to play a Test match for Australia as an amateur. He was immortalised in the C’mon Aussie, C’mon campaign, with the line “Redpath – it’s good to see ya back.”
RIP Neale Fraser. The Australia tennis icon from a bygone era died this week, aged 91. Won three grand slam singles titles and beat Rod Laver in two of the finals! Last player to win the singles, doubles and mixed at a major. Was a member of eight Davis Cup winning teams – back when we really cared – four as player, four as captain.
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