Australia All A-Flutter
| TAVITA |
NORMALLY, this would be a great time of the year for Sports Watchers. A chance to get away from the EPL and point the remote to dear old Oz.
After all, the Super 15’s are underway and the top match is the Brumbies versus the Reds. The Women’s World Cup Cricket Final is coming up next week. The NRL is getting ready and the AFL will soon be on.
So we ought to be clicking Australia Way. Green and Gold forever, eh mates!
But, oh dear me! Get ready for exclamation marks, mates!
The word’s gone out in the Land of Oz.
“There’s a new Australia Day these days!” Forget your January 26th!
It’s February 7 what counts right now!”
It’s the day All Oz turned blacker than a wombat’s nostril!
According to a former head of the Australian Sports Anti-Doping Authority (ASADA), it’s the “blackest day in Australian Sport!”
Oz Sport smells like dingo dung! And you can’t go further Down Under than that!
It puts Bradman’s last match duck at Lords and Johnny Wilkinson’s World Cup drop kick at the Telstra Stadium into the ranks of hiccoughs!
NOW READ ON…
Very sad reading, mates! On the Dreadful Morning of February 7th in the Year of The Possum 2013, the Australian Crime Commission (ACC) woke up with heavy hearts.
They chewed sadly on their vegemite sarnies, washed them all down with a stone-cold tinnie and set off for the most appalling press conference in the history of the Greatest Sporting Billabong known to Mankind.
There, they issued a report on national sport. It revealed that all kinds of slimy sleaze, both organised and disorganised, was going on.
Drugs, Image Enhancement, Evasion. Cover up. Team-based doping. Gambling. Racketeering. Organised Crime. Match Fixing…
The Oprah Winfrey Show…with twenty three million Lance Armstrongs!
You name it, the ACC affirmed it. Our darkest suspicions….
The price of foreign ownership. The links to organised crime. Betting agencies running sport. Presenters, pundits and gambling pimps.
And the worst of all, the assumption about us, the honest, decent, sofa-caring, remote-clutching watchers….
Dozy dummies with half a brain who can’t have fun without having a bet!
A shuddering shock wave shuddered All Oz.
“This can’t be uz!” they shuddered, all shocked. “It has to be all those Asians and Poms!”
The Federation of Absolutely Indignant Regular Ozzos (FAIRDOs) insisted that it was certainly the work of heavily disguised non-Australian elements with overseas accents.
“Sorry,” the ACC announced. “It’s you lot!”
They hammered it home.
“We Aussies are the criminals, betters and dopes. The playing fields of Oz are thick with kangaroo droppings of sleaze, from the outback to the inback!”
The national associations, players, and officials promptly issued a terse statement.
“Not good enough,” the ACC reckoned.
As a result, the players and clubs are living in fear. They are currently under investigation, however, by members of the Newly-Formed ACC Integrity Unit (NFACCIU). They are subject to surprise visits by the Even-More Newly-Formed League of ACC Auditors And Legal Jokers (EMNFACCAALJ) in a nation-wide clean-up operation. known as…
The Attack of the Acronyms!
And the first surprise visit to a club has now been reported.
“You’re up to your boots in sleaze,” the visiting EMNFACCAALJ noted.
“What a surprise!” the club replied.
As I always do when worried about Oz, I tried to contact my good mate Jocko.
It was very hard to find him, though. His mobile phone was on the blink. His car was gone from the garage. The massage parlour hadn’t seen him for weeks. He’d disappeared from the twenty first century.
Extremely worried, I got on the radio telephone to the Flying Doctor Service.
Reception wasn’t good since the Flying Doctor was flying a second-hand land-rover after he bet his airplane on a sure-fire tip that the Brumbies would score in the forty-sixth minute against the Crusaders last year.
It took him three weeks to track down Jocko who was rumoured to be hiding in a swamp some 1300 miles west of Brisbane, living on enhancement pills. He’d gone there to avoid the Amalgamated Queensland Bad Bets Retrieval Unit (AQBBRU).
They were reportedly after his accessories with chainsaws after his flutter on Pointing to lose his legside bail on the fourth ball of the 13th over in the BigBash game against Hobart Hurricanes.
When the Doctor tracked him down, though, Jocko heard them coming. He took off for south of Alice Springs. He’d found out that that the Flying Doctor Service had been heavily infiltrated by chainsaw-carrying AQBBRU retrievers.
“I’ll find him in the end,” the Flying Doctor radio’d back.
“Let him be!” I told him.
“I can’t,” the doctor apologised….
“My nurse has brought her chainsaw!”