Tag: rugby

7 Reasons Fining The French Is The IRB’s Most Idiotic Decision Yet

Over the years I have written many 7 Reasons posts – you may have noticed. None, though, have been written with such ferocious anger as this. Sunday was an odd day for me. Possibly suffering the after effects of Rapture 2.0, I did something I have never done before. I supported the French. I couldn’t help it. They played the better rugby in the World Cup Final. They played all the rugby. But my mind was made up before the kick-off. My made was made up during the Haka. The French advanced on it! I love it when teams do that. So you see, from that moment on, I had to support the French. The thing is, though, I had expected that to be the end. The end of my fanciness for all things French. But it’s not. Because I found myself outraged on hearing the news that the prats – and I don’t use that word lightly – at the IRB had handed France a £2,500 fine. For walking! It is just one of a number of pathetic decisions by the IRB jobsworths, but it’s probably the worst. Here’s why:

1. Hypocrisy. I don’t know if the esteemed members of the IRB have ever watched the Haka, but I have. And, as someone who knows*, let me be the first to tell them it’s not exactly morris-dancing. Lacking as it does the necessary handkerchiefs. I have never studied the Haka in detail, but the common theme running through all variations appears to be murder. The murder of the opposition. That’s naughty. If they want to fine anyone, they should fine the Kiwis for repeated death threats.

2. Respect. The charge levied at the French is that they advanced beyond the halfway line and in doing so not only disobeyed IRB regulations but disrespected the Haka. This is just wrong on so many levels. For a start, I saw an arrow with Thierry Dusautoir at the head. Then his comrades formed a horizontal line next to him. Take from this what you will. Maybe you saw men walking. Or, maybe like me, you saw men walking. Walking is not disrespectful. Especially if, like the French, you all happen to be holding hands at the time. It was just the French saying we accept the challenge. All be it in terrifically camp fashion. It was brilliant.

3. McCaw. Richie has his admirers – Kiwi’s being one** – and his detractors – basically anyone who sees his all too regular infringements. But this isn’t about his on-field play. This is about his post-match interview. On being asked by former Kiwi wicket-keeper, Ian Smith, for his reaction to their victory, McCaw replied, “I’m absolutely shagged…”. Now, if anyone was bringing the game into disrepute, surely it is McCaw by saying this. He is supposed to be setting an example to millions of youngsters around the world. The only thing this will do is encourage youngsters to repeat his words. For a sport in which men readily put their hands up between other men’s legs, this isn’t ideal.

4. Spectacle. I love the Haka. I love all the war cries. I even have my own which I prepare before taking on the shower. What I love even than the Haka, though, are the responses. Maybe it’s the pride in me, maybe it’s the naivety, but I like to think if someone was saying they were going to chop my head off, I’d have the gumption to say ‘not if I get to you first’. As an Englishman I’d love to do a Cockerill. Don’t be immature. Not like that. I mean a Richard Cockerill. He went face to face with Norm Hewitt in ’97. Then there’s the Welsh response in 2008 and the Irish’s Willie Anderson-led response in 1989. It’s just brilliant viewing before the real battle starts. I can only presume the IRB are anti-spectator.

5. Young Man. While the Haka does contain throat-slitting references, no one can deny that it is also inspired by YMCA. Just look at the photo above. Everyone knows that as soon as YMCA filters through to the ear drums it is instinct to walk to to the dance floor. The IRB can’t fine for instinct.

6. Missing The Point. Now the IRB have an extra £2,500 to spend on their golfing day, perhaps they’d like to discuss some of the real issues in the game around the ninth tee. Perhaps they’d like to sort out the inconsistencies in refereeing decisions. Perhaps they’d like to encourage putting the ball in straight at scrum time. Perhaps they’d like to explain how Courtney Lawes got a two-match suspension for ‘kneeing’ Mario Ledesma and yet USA Eagles captain, Todd Clever, got away with a ridiculous off the ball shoulder charge and high tackling against Russia. Or is that just wishful thinking?

7. French Resistance. I have very little left to give. I’m writing a 7 Reasons piece in which I am pretty much defending the French. As anyone who read 7 Reasons To Invade France will know, this is a massive turnaround in my mindset. The IRB have done this. The IRB have made me feel sorry for the French. The IRB are the one’s telling me not to try and sell you a France Invasion t-shirt.*** Helmets.

*Boy Scout Camp Trip. Circa 1993.

**My fiancee being another. I am yet to work out why.

***Nice link work.

October 25, 2011
7 Reasons To Watch The Rugby World Cup

Here we go then. After four years of waiting England are finally about to bring the Webb Ellis Trophy home again. Don’t worry though, if you are of another nationality, there are still reasons to watch.

1. The Perennials. Yes, I’m talking about New Zealand. Favourites for the fifth tournament in a row and justifiably so. The Kiwis are very good and every other team out there is quite frankly abysmal. Add into the mix that they are also hosts then the odds of 8/13 still seem quite generous. To an uneducated supporter that is. Everyone else knows that New Zealand will not win. They are chokers. Defeated in the 1995 final, the 1999 and 2003 semi-finals and the 2007 quarter-finals. They are the Netherlands of the rugby world. So much natural talent and yet so little mental toughness. The draw has been kind to them this year, they play their nemeses France in the group stage meaning they’ll win that one. A quarter-final against Argentina won’t provide too many difficulties, but then they come up against the Aussies – who, after losing to Ireland in the group stages, knock South Africa out in the quarters. And the Aussies win that one. Because they know how.

2. The Group Of Death. If there is such a thing as the group of death in this World Cup, it’s group D. Neither Wales nor South Africa will find it easy against Samoa or Fiji and while South Africa’s experience should help them through, Wales may be heading home early. Which is obviously a shame because New Zealand is full of sheep.

3. The Minnows. That’s right, I’m talking about Scotland. They should be entertaining to watch. For a neutral anyway. For a Scot there’ll be a dispiriting draw against Romania, two horrendous defeats to Argentina and Georgia and then a two-point win against England. Just because that’s all the Scots care about. And because Hape will be playing for England instead of the suspended Tulagi – who head-butted one touch-judge, two cheerleaders and a supporters coach during the game against Argentina.

4. Sleep Deprivation. The time difference means all of us who fine-tuned the art of staying awake all night followed by a half-arsed day at work during The Ashes, get to do it all over again. The first game between the hosts and Tonga is really just a warm-up. The fun starts on Saturday morning. The first of four games kicks off at 2am. There are no forty-minute lunch breaks to sleep through. No rain-delays to give you an excuse to go to bed. Just rugby, rugby, rugby. But that’s great because being deprived of sleep is wonderful. It puts you in a trance-like state through which you do all the jobs you hate without even realising. It really should be available on the National Health.

5. Commentary. With no Ortis Deley presenting, we have to look to the commentators for tongue-twisters. And, in particular, the unlucky sole who pulled the short straw and will find themselves in Auckland on 25th September commentating on Fiji v Samoa. If you know your Waqaniburotu, Murimurivalu and Koyamaiboles from your Treviranus, Poluleuligaga and Tagicakibaus then I suggest you give ITV a call. You’ll almost certainly be put on stand-by. For the rest of us, this has drinking game written all over it. For every mispronunciation, it’s two fingers. You’ll be wrecked by 6am.

6. The Unexpected. Last year ITV performed quite a coup. They got Francois Pienaar to join their line-up for the Football World Cup. Yes, the rugby legend Francois Pienaar. One assumes this was because the World Cup was being hosted in South Africa. So this begs the question, which Kiwi football star have they lined up to offer expert analysis on the scrum? That’s right, it’s Blackburn defender and current Kiwi captain, Ryan Nelson. I expect.

Blackburn’s Ryan Nelson Will Be In ITV’s Analysis Truck For The Rugby World Cup

7. The Alternative. Well that would be to listen to it. On, wait for it, TalkSport. Yes, that’s right, TalkSport! They have exclusive rights which means no Ian Robertson this year. They do have a decent commentary team with John Taylor and Brian Moore in the ranks, but my problem is that they’ll keep interrupting the matches to tell us that Nick Barmby has rejoined Spurs on a free and some twat from a van-hire company will repeatedly tell they’re the best in Canvey Island. I don’t want to know! Then we’ll probably have Jon Gaunt doing a rugby phone-in with Nick Griffin. It’s not going to be pretty. Watch it on TV instead. Watch it on a real channel. Watch it on… oh… erm… it’s on ITV again.

September 8, 2011
7 Reasons It Is Inappropriate For The World To End At 6pm Tomorrow

Disaster. The world ends tomorrow. So, in our penultimate 7 Reasons post – we’ll still publish a guest piece tomorrow morning – we take a look at the reasons why 6pm is a ridiculous time for it all to come to an end.

1. Waste Of A Day. At the moment, as you may have noticed, I am not taking the demise of the World very seriously. That’s because I’m writing this the day before and the idea that I shan’t be writing 7 Reasons on Monday hasn’t really hit home yet. Tomorrow morning, when I rise to the Sounds of the Sixties, no doubt I will start worrying. I dare say I will be petrified. This is it. It’s all over. I had so much to do. There’ll be tears. There’ll be praying. And then there’ll be tea. And a whole lot of waiting. There is no point in doing anything tomorrow. What’s the point in shopping? Or DIY? Or writing my birthday list? There isn’t any. So I’ll just sit there and wait and be bored. What a waste. At least if the world had ended at 6am I wouldn’t have had to endure the slowest day ever.

2. Awkward. The problem with 6pm is that it’s that awkward time between coming home after being out for the day and going out for the evening. Those who don’t know anything about the world ending or those who have decided to stupidly ignore it, will be getting ready. And that means a whole lot of nakedness on display. When we end up in heaven or ‘the other place’ surrounded by naked flesh, where are we supposed to look? I tell you something, there will be many an argument in full flow come 6.15pm. “You were looking at that girl’s bottom!” “No I wasn’t. She just raptured in front of me!” “I didn’t believe that excuse last time and I don’t believe it this time. And will you cover yourself up! You’re embarrassing me.” “Oh, I’m embarrassing you am I? Look at yourself, you are the only one who put weight on whilst rapturing.” Yes, many an argument and many a divorce.

3. Indigestion. Many people will be cooking or thinking about cooking dinner when it gets close to 6pm. But what should we do? Eat and be prepared to get indigestion during the rapturing phase or miss our evening meal and hope something is provided at arrival when we reach our new destination. It’s a tough call. One we wouldn’t have had to make had the world been due to end at, say, 3pm.

4. Heineken Cup Final. This kicks off at 5pm. That means I’m not going to know what happens. Do you know how many hours I have put into watching the Heineken Cup this year? Dozens. Bakers dozens probably. And for what? Just so I know who enjoys their half-time oranges more. It is said that 2% of the population will be ‘raptured’ to heaven at 6pm. No doubt those who end up there will get to see the second half, but for the rest of us – and I rather suspect that includes me – will no doubt be faced with burning hell that is ‘So You Think You Can Dance Live’. That’s a hugely inadequate outcome and should it happen I propose we make an appeal (or overpower The Devil/Piers Morgan and steal the remote control).

5. Children. For a lot of young families, 6pm signifies the time at which the youngest members of the family are put in their cots for the night. Or, if you are eighteen and have parents like I, just put to bed. There is nothing wrong with that, especially if you have spent all day chasing them around. The evening is the time when you get to relax. Only tomorrow you won’t. As soon as baby Byron is sung to sleep, death will come knocking at the door.

6. Work. Some people, believe it or not, actually have to work on Saturday. As such they’ll be working tomorrow. What a day they’ll have. Wake up early, go to work, work hard, come home, world explodes. The forces at large could at least let them sit down with a beer first.

7. Plus This Lot. Given that this is the last proper 7 Reasons post we thought we’d celebrate life by opening this up and asking the 7 Reasons faithful why 6pm would be a bad time for them. Here are some of the replies. (It suggests only a few of our followers are bothered about the world ending. Fair play to them).

Nick Barrow: “Because it’s my day off.”

@rachel_simmo: “Because we’d only be half way through the Heineken Cup final! Surely they can put it back a couple of hours to 8pm?”

@splex: “Dr Who wouldn’t have been on telly yet. Could you postpone the world ending until at least 9pm?”

Sarah Ay: “Because we’d miss the Champions League final.”

@rachel_simmo: “We wouldn’t find out what happens in Doctor Who! With Amy and the baby and the eye-patched nurse!”

@Kateypotatey: “Because I wouldn’t have had time to finish my first glass of fizz/cocktail. 6.30 would be better.”

@RugbyByDilbert: “I wouldn’t of sung happy birthday to my mate! #actofrevenge”

Rob Lee: “Because I might be either batting or bowling at that time, and I’ll never know how I got on.”

@kittyQ: “Because I am getting married next year to a 7 reasoner, that’s after Saturday, that means I won’t get to be the happiest kitty ever”

Jack Pitts: “Bad? At least we won’t have to sit through Britain’s Got Talent anymore.”

@RugbyByDilbert: “If the world was to end on Saturday, I wouldn’t have gone to the Waratahs game in Sydney (makes me sad)”

@NellPlant: “I’d die a work and this would mean I would not be able to iPlayer Doctor Who when I’ve finished work.”

@rachel_simmo: “We wouldn’t ever know if Birmingham City could manage to stay up on the last day of the season on the Sunday…”

Richard O’Hagan: “Because (a) Marc would never get the website to work for a whole 7 days in succession and (b) the world would be deprived of the weekly spectacle of one of you accidentally posts a piece they meant to schedule for later in the week.”

@kittyQ: “Kent play Sussex on Sunday.. I am hoping to go. I’ll get to see the signs I set up for print. If the world ends I won’t get to see Kent THRASH Sussex”

Richard O’Hagan: “Because we would never get to read the second half of the Russian Roulette interview?”

@rachel_simmo: “Plus my brother would only be a 21 year old for 3 and a bit days, not even a week being 21!”

@RevdKathy: “6pm Saturday? The world CANNOT end before Doctor Who has aired!”

*On behalf of Marc and myself, may I thank you all for reading 7 Reasons for the past 20 months. It’s been ace. See some of you soon. (I’ll bring the ball, you bring the bat).

May 20, 2011
7 Reasons Manu Tuilagi Should Be Embarrassed

On Saturday afternoon, the country had two choices. They could either watch a bunch of tarts or a bunch of thugs. Being someone who lacks a passion for theatrical performance this choice didn’t apply to me. My radar featured solely the Leicester v Northampton Premiership semi-final. The FA Cup Final only appeared on nancy boy’s radars. And Ricky Hatton’s. My choice, as happens regularly with my choices, was the correct one and I was treated to a terrific sporting occasion. However, it wasn’t all savoury. During the first half there was an off the ball incident between Leicester’s Manu Tuilagi and Northampton’s Chris Ashton. For those who didn’t watch it, this is what happened. Manu Tuilagi attempts something resembling a tackle on Chris Ashton. Unfortunately, Ashton didn’t have the ball. And in rugby, tackling someone without the ball is frowned upon. So, Ashton gives Tuilagi a shove to say, “Excuse me ol’chap, I am without ball. That’s terribly unsportsmanlike conduct.” To which Tuilagi replies, “No it ******* well isn’t! This is!” Although he replaced the words with three punches. Unfortunately footage of the incident isn’t great, but it’s as good as we have for now.

At full speed it looked like a brutal attack and one Audley Harrison would be proud/incapable of. On closer inspection though, it’s pretty poor. And for that Manu should be incredibly embarrassed. Here’s why:

1. Eyes. In such circumstances the victim should really have his eyes shut as he prepares himself for the blow. The puncher, on the other hand, should be looking in the direction of his target. This is all back to front. Firstly, although it’s hard to tell, Ashton has his eyes open. And secondly, Tuilagi has his eyes shut. So what can we establish from this? Well, firstly that Ashton is a madman. He likes pain and he loves watching the impact of a fist on his face. Secondly, Tuilagi is squeamish. He’ll gladly give someone a happy slap but he doesn’t want to see blood.

2. Body Position. Now, I’ve done a bit of boxing – in a ring that was frequented by Justin Langer and Adam Gilchrist no less – so I like to think I know what I am talking about. When you punch, you’ll get more joy if you hit in front of you as opposed to the side. Obviously, there may be occasions when your target is not in front of you. If this is the case it is generally a good idea to move.

3. Oxygen. It’s always a good idea to breath when involved in a pursuit that actively encourages being alive. Tuilagi’s decision to hold his breath was not only dangerous, it also made him look a little chubby.

4. Standing. If you get a chance to see decent footage, do watch it. That’s because this footage is useless at showing what happened next. It also doesn’t fully show the impact of the other two punches. Well, actually, it doesn’t show the other two punches. And, while I have suggested these punches weren’t particularly great, they were still pretty damn forceful. The slow-mo footage shows Ashton’s head turn into a jelly for a few moments. The thing is though, after Tuilagi threw the punches, nothing happened. Ashton just stood there. And so did Tuilagi. And Tuilagi looked at Ashton standing in front of him and said, “Huh? What the hell aren’t you doing on the floor? Get down son, you’re making me look like a tit.” Which he did.

5. Officials. While Tuilagi was trying to punch Ashton into Nottingham, the touch judge was doing what all good touch judges should do. He was waving his flag around. The referee, Wayne Barnes eventually noticed the semaphore message and stopped the game. He then had a chat with his touch judge and then sent both Tuilagi and Ashton to the sin-bin. So yes, Tuilagi should be embarrassed for putting the officials in a position where they made the worst decision in the history of refereeing. Ever.

6. Ovation. Despite all I have said about the punches and their ineffectualness the home crowd seemed to love it. I felt somewhat uncomfortable as I watched the Tigers faithful give Tuilagi an ovation as he ran back on the pitch after his sin-bin. Sure, if he had flattened Ashton, give him an ovation. But don’t applaud the guy for half measures. He must have felt three inches tall after hearing that. How embarrassing to hear your own supporters cheer you for not punching properly. They must have thought that’s all he had. Which it was.

7. Handshake. So you’ve thrown everything at your opponent. He’s taken an absolute hammering. So what’s the worst that can happen now? That’s right, he comes up to you at the end of the match without a scratch on him and says, “Well played.” And all you can do is smile and remind everyone that you spend far too long shaping your sideburns.

May 16, 2011
7 Reasons To Play The Brian Moore Drinking Game This Six Nations

Last week you may remember that Marc and I failed to deliver our regular Friday joint post. In an extraordinary turn of events we have repeated the trick this week as well. But that’s fine, because it gives me a chance to have a look at one of the greatest sporting events in the calender. Tonight sees the start of the 2011 Six Nations in Cardiff, with England taking on the Daffodil Nation. I could give you 7 Reasons to watch the Six Nations but I am pretty sure we covered that last year** and to be honest, not much has changed. You shouldn’t need to rethink it. Instead I am going to take a look at the commentators. And in particular the joy former England hooker Brian Moore will be bringing to the proceedings. With his passionate views, the words of Moore make this Six Nations the perfect opportunity to have a tipple. So here it is, the 7 Reasons Brian Moore Drinking Game.

1. Criticism. No matter which country a player is from, if he’s a silly boy, Moore will let everyone know about it. Similarly, if he feels a referee has made a bad decision, we will hear it. So, if Moore labels a player a ‘half-wit’ or brands the decision of the referee as ‘stupid’ you have to drink one finger.

2. Scrum. Given that Moore spent most of his career in the middle of one, I think he has the right to harp on about the issues of scrummaging for 80 minutes. And every time he bemoans a collapse, a reset or a wonky feed, you must drink two fingers.

3. Football. That’s right, every time Moore mentions those nancy boys in that round ball game and their rolling around on the floor antics, it’s time to drink three fingers.

4. Passion. Let’s put it like this, Moore is not entirely unbiased. You get the feeling that he’d quite like England to win. And he’s not exactly scared of sharing his passion for the cause. So every time he shows his blatant England bias, drink four fingers.

5. Anti-French Sentiments. Being a proper Englishman, Moore quite rightly lacks appreciation for all things French. So when he comes out which such gems as, “Looks like he’s injured…I don’t care though, he’s French,” it’s time to drink five fingers. And cheer.

6. Admission. On the very odd occasion that Moore views a replay and admits his initial judgement on proceedings was in fact wrong, you must down the rest of your drink.

7. Cut-off. Sometimes Moore can get so worked up about something that his emotions begin to pour out of the speakers. In the past it has led the producer to pulling the plug on Moore’s microphone. Below is the perfect example of what we are looking for. If this happens it is time to refill your glass and down it in one.

Most of all though, enjoy the tournament! (If you are English).

*7 Reasons does not condone drinking to extremes, so if you feel yourself getting dizzy before half-time you may stop.

**I lied. We did not give you 7 Reasons To Watch The Six Nations last year, our guest writer Rachel did. You can read it here.

February 4, 2011
Guest Post: 7 Reasons Why The British Should Not Travel To Australia

Joining us on the 7 Reasons sofa today is Alexandra Clement-Meehan: blogger, twitterer, Australian and maker of cheese. When she isn’t looking after her collection of meat or poisoning herself with her own cooking, she can be found writing for this wonderful sports blog, or tweeting – thankfully under the shorter name @splex.

1. Heat. It’s definitely too hot here for any normal human being to exist, and I do accept that I am, in fact, calling Australians abnormal – but as I am one, it’s allowed. Sunburnt English men and women are also not a pretty sight. One would even go as far as saying they’re a bit of an eyesore, spoiling our idyllic coasts and tranquil scenery. Not that they’re ugly, the pinkness and rawness is just so very… distracting.

2. Fauna. England doesn’t even have real native fauna. Do they even know what the word means? Australian fauna is unique to our island home, including all the wonderful spiders and deadly snakes. Do snakes even live in England? They shouldn’t. Too cold. Maybe they just slip around on the ice. Ice-snakes probably exist but they’d be unlikely to kill anyone, not like the Red-Bellied Black snake and the aptly named Brown snake. I should also mention that we have bloody big sharks as well.

3. Most of our citizens already live in England. Case in point: Rolf Harris – he’s an Australian hero. He took the wobble-board to soaring new heights before anyone else even knew it existed. You’d be hard pressed to even find a better Australian, and he resides in England, spending his time painting portraits of our* Queen. Secondly, who would pour your beers and serve you copious amounts of alcohol if not the Australian backpackers? Who would care for your upper-middle class children if not for the young Australian nannies? Exactly. There’s zero reason to leave the Motherland when you’ve got the best of both worlds in one place! Oh, and you might like to note that most of us are similar to this.**

4. Sport. It can be said that we’re a whole lot better at sport than you are. In fact, often, we’re embarrassingly better than you. Case in point: The Ashes 2006/2007. We definitely won that 5-0. Even though we were defeated in our most recent attempt, we at least won a test or two. By not travelling to Australia, any proud English-person can save face and avoid any heckling about their sporting prowess. We’re not that nice when it comes to sport, because we are just better than every other nation (except at snow-based events).

5. Distance. Everything is really far away and no one actually wants to waste their holidays in small, dingy, probably cockroach infested, coaches. Here’s an interesting fact: It would take almost an entire day to drive from the East coast of Australia to the West coast. Who has the time? Not even Australians have the time, which is why we don’t, and Western Australia remains the forgotten state. If one was to stay in England, they could spend their time going to places like Bristol or maybe even the town that Midsomer Murders is filmed in. It may actually be called Midsomer. I think John Nettles lives there.

6. TV. It’s safe to say that British television is exponentially better that anything the Australian TV world could ever produce (except maybe Neighbours, but for some reason the Brits love that, which seems strange, because – news flash! – it’s actually a terrible show). Now that has been cleared up we can continue. Any charming and pithy British television series that reach our shores do so months, if not years, after they have been aired in Britain. Another case in point: Dr Who. The recent Christmas specials have only just been screened….in February. So if any British citizen were to travel, and find themself in a state of ennui mixed with desperate homesickness, they couldn’t turn on the box and see a brand new show direct from the UK. If it’s television you like, there’s definitely no point in coming to Australia.

7. Accent. Let’s face facts here, you don’t understand what we’re saying and we definitely haven’t a clue what you’re on about – you English and your Cockney rhyming slang! We have it as well, but it’s not hard to decipher. We have things like “dog’s eye” and “dead horse” (“meat pie” and “tomato sauce”, respectively). You have things like “loop the loop” for “soup” – just say soup! It has at least two less syllables! But I digress, the Australian accent is a thing of beauty, yet it is misunderstood by most of the English-speaking world. Upon hearing feedback regarding the aforementioned accent, it’s plain that the English are unsure why we question everything. We’re an inquisitive nation – you might like to think that’s because we’re descended from convicts and therefore we have simple minds – but we’re not simple, ok? It’s just that our rising inflection, like our outlook on life, is always in the ascendant and positive.

*This is what happens when a Pom edits you.

**Definitely untrue.

March 13, 2010
7 Reasons It’s Dangerous To Drive A Golf Buggy Up The M4

1. It’s the M4. What sort of road is that to start on? Surely logic would dictate that you build up to it? B roads to A roads to motorways. And then you wouldn’t start on the M4 would you? It would go M1, M2, M3 then M4. Fail to prepare, prepare to get arrested.

2. Breakdown Cover. The AA and the RAC don’t provide cover for golf buggies. Which means if you get stuck between junctions you have got to push the thing bloody miles. That is not good news for your back.

3. Speed. Or should that be the lack of? A golf buggy, while apparently quite nippy zooming over the fairways, is in fact quite slow when placed next to the more roadworthy vehicle. Slow cars cause road rage. Slow golf buggies cause bent putters.

4. England Calling. So assuming you get on the M4 in Wales – which I understand is very feasible – you could well end up heading into England. There is nothing wrong with this of course – it is the greatest country in the world after all – but then you’d need to get back. And that means you have to pay the toll to get back over the bridge. What is so dangerous about that? Well quite a lot when the barrier crashes down before you have managed to get your foot on the accelerator. Golf balls everywhere.

5. Weather. If there is one design feature the standard golf buggy lacks, it is windscreen wipers. Oh, and a windscreen. If it starts raining or snowing you are not only going to freeze, but you will also struggle to see. And no, goggles do not help. If you end up stuck in a field you should think yourself very lucky.

6. Beverage holders. There aren’t any. Another epic design failure. The chances are if you are driving a golf buggy up the motorway you have somewhere to go. As we have already established you are not going to be going where you want to go very quickly and you are also going to freeze to death. The sensible option in these circumstances is to buy a hot drink and hold it between your thighs. That’s a health and safety issue right there.

7. Lights. Unless you have stolen a top of the range model, there aren’t any lights on the front of your buggy. Which means you are going to have to use the torch facility on your phone. This of course means you will be driving one handed with a mug of boiling soup between your thighs and a Police car roaring up the road behind you. In such circumstances people have been known to panic. Panicking makes you do rash things. You might chuck your phone under a lorry or something.

February 16, 2010
7 Reasons to go and Watch Invictus

1. Morgan Freeman. Usually the veteran actor gets typecast as God, but in Invictus he gets promoted and puts in a superb performance as Nelson Mandela. His accent is a bit dodgy, but the same could be said of all South Africans. Either that or they genuinely believe it’s called “Sowt Efrica”.

2. Rugby. There aren’t many decent films about rugby and the depiction of the game is pretty good in Invictus. It’s not up to the standard of This Sporting Life, but that’s almost 50 years old and is about the wrong rugby – the one they play in the North-West that makes you shout “For fucks sake, run around him” when you accidentally see television coverage of it. Perhaps I’m missing some subtle nuance of that game, but why do they always run straight into an opposing player?

3. Crying. Everyone loves a good cry – something I often tell myself when I’ve put my foot in it again, and if you’re prone to crying at sport or movies, you’ll definitely cry at the conclusion of Invictus. Eastwood manages to wring just about every ounce of emotion out of the film’s climax. If you’re at all sensitive, you’ll cry like a girl – even if you aren’t one.

4. Crying. I didn’t cry like a girl while everyone else in the cinema was blubbing though. Oh no. I cried when Jonah Lomu ran amok with the ball and rampaged through the defenceless England backs. It brought it all back to me; the big bully, those poor little mites, the carnage. Oh, the horror.

5. Sound. Want to hear rugby with improbable sounds dubbed on? Of course you do. Go and see Invictus. Every tackle sounds like a gunshot within a biscuit-tin within a kettle-drum within an empty water-tank within an Airbus A340 flying through a thunderstorm. The woman sitting next to me gasped during every tackle. She may have been mental though, there’s usually one in every cinema.

6. England. As the film is based on real sporting events I’m not giving anything away when I tell you that Rory Underwood scores a try for England during the film. This is great, though the rest of the audience will not thank you for celebrating it. Trust me.

7. Matt Damon. MAAAATTTT DAAAAAMMMON!!!!! He is brilliant in Invictus. His South African accent is convincing and he plays Francois Pienaar with a lovely, understated dignity. He has also transformed his entire body to play the role. The shot in which they show his upper torso is entirely gratuitous, but his musculature is astonishing – it is physical evidence of the dedication that he brought to his preparation for the film. Being much shorter than the real Francois Pienaar, he had to stand on a box for several of his scenes. I explained this to my friend before we went in to see the film. “Matt Damon’s pretty short”, I said, demonstrating his height with my hand at about chest level. I then raised my hand above me, stood on tiptoes, and extended my right arm fully, “but Francois Pienaar’s enormous, he’s 6ft 3!!! That’s…er…an inch taller than we are”. I have already been made to feel quite silly for that, thank you for asking.

February 15, 2010
Guest Post: 7 Reasons to Watch the Six Nations

If you get your news from 7 Reasons, you’ll be delighted to learn that the Six Nations starts today. We have decided to celebrate this with a guest post.

Our guest post comes from Rachel Simmonite, a 21 year old BA Hons Media and Communication (Journalism) student at Birmingham City University. When she’s not busy gracing Twitter with her wit, wisdom, and frankly astonishing knowledge of club rugby, she can be found writing here.

1. Birthday. This year, the Six Nations celebrates its tenth birthday. Of course, the tournament has been going on forever – in various guises of the Home International Championship and the Five Nations – but this year is the tenth year since the Italians joined the party; with their light blue kit, dodgy hair and sideburns, and their habit of beating Scotland every other year or so, Italy – despite being the whipping boys of the tournament – have always provided good competition. And they have the best national anthem.

2. Rivalries. Talking to an Irish or Welsh friend during this tournament means you get a lot more abuse than normal. National pride and traditional rivalries are all the rage during the Six Nations. Being English, and therefore supporting the red roses through thick and thin while thinking back to the good old days of 2003, you get it in the neck more than anyone else, as every side wants to beat you more than anything. The Celtic teams (Ireland, Wales and Scotland) need to beat you for bragging rights – I haven’t been able to face my Welsh friends for the past two years – and to try and get the Triple Crown or, in the case of Scotland, the Calcutta Cup, while the French and the Italians just like to join in with the English bashing.

3. Something for everyone. Whether you’re after someone nice to look at, or a good game, the Six Nations provides both. The annual desire to beat your local rivals for northern hemisphere dominance brings out the best of the teams, both in the forwards, and the backs. With the return of the rolling maul to the game – following last year’s ELVs* – the forwards can add that extra string to their bow again, enabling loads of fans (either in the pub or at the ground) to go “HEAVE” whenever it happens. As for the backs; as long as they’re running with the ball, it doesn’t affect the precise alignment of their gelled hair, and they’re stealing the headlines, they’ll be having fun.

Rugby isn’t just about the game now, it’s about the totty. Following calendars such as Le Dieux de Stade, the word “moisturiser” has become commonly used in rugby changing rooms, as has the phrase “fake tan” – particularly if you’re Welsh. If I was feeling shallow then my 7 reasons to watch the Six Nations would be very short: Jonny Wilkinson, Tom Croft, Leigh Halfpenny, Hugo Southwell, Brian O’Driscoll, Yannick Jauzion and Sergio Parisse. Of course there are more than seven good looking players in this year’s tournament, that selection are just my favourites.

4. Anyone can win it. The beauty of the Six Nations is that you never know who is going to win the tournament; there’s no runaway winner or clear favourite. I mean, nobody would have thought that Wales would win the Grand Slam in 2005. Likewise, we didn’t expect Italy to come fourth in 2007 – the year when France beat Ireland with a +4 points difference – but that was all that separated them. Of course, with Ireland having won the Grand Slam last year (only their second since 1948), they will be labelled as favourites for this year’s tournament. But on their day, anyone can beat anyone – the Welsh very nearly spoiled the Irish party last year and who knows what the French will come up with, having beaten the World Champions, South Africa, in November? We do know that the Scots and the Italians will probably be fighting it out for the wooden spoons, but who knows? And as for England…

5. The WAGs. Becoming a rugby WAG is increasingly popular – even a member of the royal family, Zara Phillips, is a rugby WAG. The recent crop started with Gabby Logan and Kirsty Gallacher; the likes of Kelly Brook and Una (from pop group the Saturdays) followed for England, with Duffy and Charlotte Church flying the flag for the Welsh WAGs. It is inevitable that if a well known rugby WAG is in attendance at a match the television director will give them plenty of screen time. If not, you’ll be able to see photos of them cheering on their men in the Daily Mail.

6. The singing. You can’t have a rugby match without the singing. The Welsh, in particular, are very good at the singing – it’s like their second sport after rugby. With the likes of Katherine Jenkins, Charlotte Church and that blond one off of the X-Factor to sing the national anthem, Delilah, and Bread of Heaven, they do their singing brilliantly. England have adopted a song that comes with actions, “Swing Low, Sweet Chariot”. I think you have to go on a rugby tour to learn the actions though. Ireland spoil the crowd with two anthems before a match while the French and Italian anthems are just great – I love them – like I love the bagpipes in Flower of Scotland. In fact, I love the anthems more than the bagpipes.

7. The romance. How could you treat your better half on Valentine’s weekend this year? Card? Flowers? Cheesy Marvin Gaye CD? How about a weekend in Cardiff, Paris or Rome? Arrive on the Friday night, take them out for a meal, let them do damage to the credit card on the Saturday morning and then – come the Saturday afternoon at about midday (or Sunday in the case of Rome) – announce that you’ve got tickets for the rugby and enquire whether they fancy a romantic afternoon watching thirty men run around a pitch for eighty minutes?

Of course, if your other half really doesn’t like rugby then you may find yourself in a spot of bother – but it is something that you love…

*Experimental Law Variations

February 6, 2010