Box unticked

Or how to turn an honest mistake into a complete debacle

Loving the Olympics, and more regular bloggage will resume after they are done, but I was a bit surprised this week to find as aspect of it I can actually professionally comment on. I figure its as close as I'll get to ever competing so I'm running with it anyway :)

The whole fiasco of Valerie Adams turning up to her event to find out she wasn't entered due to a paperwork botch got my interest, because a big part of my job is making sure documentation practice is up to snuff, whether it's creating docs, completing them or reviewing them. My company can't manufacture or sell our materials without it (those materials being cGMP pharmaceutical ingredients), and if I was teaching a QA course I’d use this as a relatable example of what can happen if you don’t do it right.

So how does an athlete (including a current Olympic title holder) turn up to the Olympics, a moment they have been anticipating for years, only to find they aren’t actually entered in their event?

From my outsiders perspective going by what has been related in the media, it sounds like little failures compounding each other to make a big one. A step got missed, maybe because it wasn't prominent enough, or just got forgotten about, it didn't get checked, and no-one noticed until it was almost too late to do anything about it (technically it actually was).

The whole situation apparently arising because a box wasn't ticked is interesting, because from a good documentation practice point of view, that possibility shouldn't be there, or at least minimised as much as practicable. Bad form design is a great enabler of muck-ups, and if not ticking a single box as claimed can have this kind of outcome (and I’d think “is your representative planning to compete?” would be a pretty fundamental aspect), then barring incompetence or misunderstanding from the person filling it out, it might be a bit flawed. 

I’d love to see the document in question and confirm if that hunch is correct or not (it's sad, but after years of being in the industry, form design is a pet obsession :) ). Single answer tick boxes aren’t great for these kind of things since you can’t tell if it wasn’t ticked on purpose, or just forgotten. In my line of work a big no-no is to leave spaces blank, for exactly this reason; it's ambiguous. What’s better is something that requires a definite action, like using “YES / NO” and requiring one to be circled and the other crossed out. If neither has been circled or crossed you know that section has been missed when you review it. Another way to help prevent this kind of thing would be to remove the question: assume the person IS competing, and require a declaration if they aren’t, or use a form specifically for competitors only. You can’t make documentation that requires user input completely foolproof, but there are ways to engineer out traps, and make sure the information you really need to be recorded is. It's all about minimising ambiguity and room for misinterpretation.

That said, the documentation should have been checked both when it was completed, and when it was submitted. Designing a form well is no good if people don’t fill it out properly anyway (which happens surprisingly often, even when they are specifically trained to do it right). When important things are riding on the documentation process, you get someone other than the person filling it out to check it, both at the time, and when the process is complete. I find it weird that the documentation that you know, enables your athletes to actually register in the competition doesn’t seem to have been overseen.

The management says their document practice will be reviewed, and it should be, because at this level this is something that simply should not happen. No excuses. It’s arguable if it cost Adams the gold medal, but it certainly didn’t help.

Post Script:

Ultimately it didn't cost her the medal; the winner on the day failed drug testing and was stripped of the gold. 

More story and reaction from Adams here :).

Back in the saddle

So after getting my bike looked at and adjusted a little by my physio, on Sunday I was allowed to try my first ride since The Hip. That's what I'm calling my injury now. It rolls off the tongue a bit easier than gluteal weakness, although the latter enables jokes to be made about going about things half-arsed.

I had to promise to only put in a short 30-30min gentle ride. No hills, and nothing beyond an ambling pace.

In one of those moments where everything works, the random shuffle on my MP3 player seemed to have known something was up.

First up as I hopped on (sort of, mounting and dismounting is still painful) it played "Crime Scene Part One" by The Afghan Whigs, which is close to being my favourite song ever.

Then it followed up with some favourite tracks right now in the form of "One and Only" by Concord Dawn, and "Keys to the Kingdom" by Unkle.

I was in a really good mood by this time, so got carried away and took some air off a judder bar. This was a painful mistake since The Hip isn't ready for any out of the saddle riding yet. Appropriately right then I got played "What makes you think you're the one?" by Fleetwood Mac.

The pain didn't last long though, and I finished the brief ride with the defiant "Rooster" by Alice in Chains. It was a nice sunny day, the wind was behind me and I felt ecstatic. I hadn't realised just how much I enjoy the riding for it's own sake.

I've also managed to get back on a netball court, having carefully played a few quarters. After several physio sessions and a heap of directed stretching and strengthening exercises I'm back up to around 60-70% of where I was pre-injury. It still hurts if I move it wrong, I still can't run properly (sprinting still doesn't work), and I am favouring it automatically; the confidence of movement hasn't come back yet. In game itself it's still a bit niggly and unsettled, and I am constantly aware of things not being quite right. The non-sprint means full court netball is still out, so I have only been playing half court positions. Short dashes and darts are working so far, which is good since as feared I've lost a lot of fitness in the last month of not doing anything. It's a lot better than it was a few weeks ago though (I was worried initially about being able to play or ride again at all). Coming back from injury I have always found a bit awkward, this time is no different.

Leap Day

Not much to say at the moment, but I really wanted to have Feb 29th as a posting date :)

I'm certainly not doing much leaping at the moment as I'm still restricted from exercise, although I am getting my mobility back. My hip has been figured as suffering from the gluteal muscles getting out of balance strength wise, and thus pushing the joint geometry out of whack, leading to the pain and restriction I've been getting. Some good physiotherapy and rest has seen a lot of improvement though. The therapy is including acupuncture, which I've never had before and was somewhat uncomfortable but *wow* impressively and instantly effective, even if it gives me what feels like an instant deep bruise. I still can't run yet, not from being banned from it, more because I physically can't quite do it until I get the joint back to doing what it should. I'm not allowed on the bike either, although I did manage a swim on Saturday night (technically early Sunday morning to be precise) for a polio eradication fundraiser. Swimming while dragging a leg was harder than I thought it would be, especially at 1am.

I have progressed enough to be allowed a very limited return to netball if I feel up to it early next week. I'm not up to it now, so will see how things go. I've realised my body confidence (in terms of moving certain ways without worrying about it) is completely shot, more so than usual with the strains and sprains I have much more experience of. Since biking is what we think precipitated this situation in the first place, I am a bit leery about getting back on that too without some strategies in place.

In the meantime, here are some pics:

Here I am not doing Round the Bays on Sunday, perching precariously on the City to Sea bridge and watching the procession. I spent a few hours sleeping on that bridge one night, but that's another story:
And here is Fi on her way to kicking the 7K run's arse. She is the smiley one at the bottom looking like she is throwing the goat. That isn't what she is doing though, if you speak ASL you'll get it. Not being able to run it with her in her first RTB was the biggest disappointment about not being able to participate.
I've been using the downtime to attend to some maintenance on my bike, mainly replacing the brake pads and cables and reconditioning the rotors. The cables and pads in particular were shagged. Handy hint: if your cable cutters aren't cutting it, try annealing the cable by locally heating the bit you want to cut, ideally to red-hot, then letting it cool in the air. This softens the metal and makes for an easier cut. Doing this without setting fire to the bike is generally a plus:
This is the immediate people-milling-about aftermath and location of the calamitous Hobbit casting-call back in January, about as close to my doorstep as it could be. They could have asked me about the wisdom of the location, and I would have told them it was a dumb idea...
And finally a picture I took of something some friends of mine were involved in (would have played, but...) on a national website. It's uncredited, so you'll just have to take my word for it. As for the sport, I could try and explain it, but it's a bit like the Matrix; you just have to see it for yourself.

Hubris?

So I was lining up a post on how I've really been enjoying cycling to work and elsewhere so far this year, how hopping on the bike in the morning had now become a habit, how the hill feels like less and less of an obstacle, how I had to jump start my car since I hadn't driven it for so long, how I aced my annual company medical exam, how I'm really enjoying my sport at the moment and generally feeling fitter than I have in a while.

Turns out I've been apparently doing it wrong, in proper unintended consequences style. The extra cycling seems to have upset one of my hips, including a nausea-inducing-make-it-stop-now excruciating overnight bout of sudden acute pain a month ago, followed by another less ouch but more persistent episode of painful and limited movement that is going on right now. The hip in question has been slightly dodgy historically anyway, but never like this. After inconclusive visits to A+E over the weekend, my GP yesterday, and a slightly more conclusive visit my physio today I think a handle is being got on what has suddenly gone wrong, which is good, since right now I can't really run, jump, change direction suddenly or lunge without discomfort or occasionally just falling over when the too-much threshold is reached. I thought on Monday it was coming right, but after barely making it through a single quarter at netball that night the game was clearly up.

I've noticed what annoys me most about it apart from not knowing yet precisely what the cause is and thus how to fix it, or the discomfort, is the lack of body confidence that arises from suddenly not being able to move the way you are used to, and having to move with fragile care. I'm moving very carefully, but can't always avoid the rotation that hurts. It's annoying when you sometimes realise you are limping not because it actually hurts, but because you think it might. Then you walk normally for a bit and it is fine, then you forget and move the wrong way and then you are back to limping again.

So after pulling myself out of my netball last night, not biking all week, after today's consultation I'm officially grounded on medical advice, no sports, no cycling until it is sorted (not that I can actually do those things right now anyway). All that fitness disappearing until I can start again (best case/guess in a few weeks maybe). The Hospi ride I was planning to repeat in a few weeks has already been unfortunately postponed/canned by the organisers for this year, but Bike the Trail is still on next weekend, and I was really looking forward to doing Round the Bays this weekend too, even ironically picking up my work-team entry pack today. Maybe next year.

Officially best in the world again

While my relationship with rugby can be love-hate at times, after a very hard fought and too-close-to-call-until-it-was-over final on Sunday night, this was a pretty sweet moment to savour:




This is my favourite press pic from the night, Corey Jane and Israel Dagg making confetti angels (source NZ Herald), and summing up the mixture of joy and relief felt by All Black fans everywhere after hanging on to win a low scoring game by a single point.
While it wasn't the prettiest game to watch, it is nice to be able to say we are World Champions again, especially if like me you are old enough to remember the last time we won it, at the same ground on a winter afternoon in 1987:
And this, for anyone interested, including the muppets at the IRB who are discussing fining the French team for technically breaking the rules by crossing the half-way line, is a perfectly acceptable, nay encouraged, response to the challenge of the haka.

And to their credit, the French took some beating, despite most pre-game predictions, making the game anyone's to lose right up until full time.

Final finally

Our house yesterday evening:
I didn't even know we had this until Fi discovered it while rummaging around for something else. Seemed only natural to join the rest of the flags up around the neighbourhood.

I'm not the hugest rugby fan in the world, but I do like watching my team, and like it even more when they win. My cynicism around the World Cup mostly sprang from the way it was promoted, but also a little bit from being wary of committing to the idea that this time we might actually win the thing. After last night's semi final win ruthlessly brushing aside our closest rival and biggest threat 20-6, a whole lot of people are daring to hope, and swinging from very (very) quiet confidence to well placed belief that this time next week we will be World Champions for the first time in 24 years (could be worse, we could be English football fans; their national side hasn't won the Soccer World Cup since 1966). The tension before the game was the most I have felt for any AB's match I have ever seen. Interesting though, throughout the game the AB's themselves were the most pumped and psyched I have ever seen as well, which was borne out in the result. Australia didn't play that terribly; we were just a lot better.

For the country renowned as generally being the best in the game historically (with the All Blacks being one of the most winning teams in any code worldwide), the lack of World Cup success has been mystifying and frustrating, and ultimately monkey on the back building. After winning the inaugural event in 1987, we only reached the final again in 1995, and have fallen at the quarters and semi's every other time (1991, 1999, 2003, 2007, the last mentioned here).

A few other hoodoos around the tournament:

-Prior to last night, the All Blacks had never beaten Australia at a world cup. Hoodoo broken.

-Conversely Australia haven't won a match at last night's venue since 1986. Hoodoo stands.

-In prior world cups, the team that beat the reigning champions went on to win it. Australia did that this time, eliminating our other biggest rival South Africa in last weeks quarter final, but that trend is now broken.

Also in prior world cups, no team that has been defeated in pool play has gone on to win the tournament. Since Australia got knocked over by Ireland a few weeks ago, that trend still stands. The AB's are the only undefeated team in this years tournament.

-Our final opponent, France has eliminated NZ from a world cup twice and have been regarded as a bogey team for NZ, mostly because they are so unpredictable even the French themselves don't know which team (the rubbish one or the awesome one) will turn up on the day. We thumped France in pool play this time, so that monkey if not dead, is seriously wounded. Plus France lost not once in pool play, but twice (see above), and were lucky at best to win their quarter final. They are not to be underestimated, but if the AB's play the final with the intensity and clinicality they displayed last night, no team in the world right now can beat them.

Still it isn't over until it's over. The final matchup is the same as it was in 1987; all going well the result will be too.

And kind of apropos of nothing, but I liked the sky at dusk last night, so here it is:

Haka-off

There is one part of Rugby Inc. I haven't got bored of yet, and that is the Haka. "Ka Mate" is the most famous, but I'm not sure it is well known outside NZ and the Pacific Islands that there are dozens if not hundreds of haka. I can still remember the moves to my high school haka, even if I haven't actually performed it for close to eighteen years. Part challenge, and part psyche-up when it is done right it sets the atmosphere up perfectly, and the opposition response is always interesting to watch. The best opposition response of all though is another haka, like at the RWC opener last Friday. Our Ka Mate versus Tonga's Sipi Tau:

There was some discussion before the game about if the performances would be separated (probably a slow news day). They did them together at RWC 2003, and it was awesome:

At the risk of being disloyal, having seen Ka Mate a squillion times in my life, I think I prefer Sipi Tau, just because it is much more dynamic in it's movements. I'm also liking the 'official' AB Kapa O Pango haka introduced a few years ago:

Manu Samoa's Siva Tau is pretty cool too:

And better not forget Fiji while I'm at it:

Despite my cynical earlier posts about the RWC, now that the thing has actually started and there are games to watch it is slightly more engaging.

Corporate Knowledge

The corporate sponsorship requirements of the upcoming Rugby World Cup are making for some interesting observations at the moment. To protect profits, any sponsor or business not involved in the tournament funds is being ruthlessy shoved out of the way, sometimes gently, but other times absurdly, like making charity ambulances cover up the sponsors that keep them operating.

Most noticably so far in Wellington, with it's naming rights sponsor not being involved in the RWC, Westpac Stadium has lost part of it's external signage:
This fits with the 'clean' requirement, but does make the stadium look like someone has been busy with a giant label maker lest anyone was wondering what the big round thing was (although it now reflects what most locals call the thing anyway). It still lights up at night, making the incongruity even more special.

Another sponsorship curiosity has been highlighted by this TV ad:

I quite like it. It is sweet and nostalgic, and neatly sums up the disappointment for fans resulting from the arguably best team in the game not winning its premier tournament for a generation. Steinlager have sponsored the All Blacks since the mid 80's, and are re-introducing the old style white cans for the duration of tournament, which I also like.

The first thing though is, if security is halfway competent, there is no way our loyal fan is going to get his talisman through the gate at the game venue. The second thing of note is that while Steinlager might sponsor the AB's, the official beer of the tournament is Heineken, so the latter will be the only beer available at any game :).

High Score

Listening to: Big Boi and Dre Present Outkast - Outkast (2001).

One of our players failed to show at our indoor netball game tonight, so we had to take the court a person down and play the game 5 vs 6. After a few minutes of shambles as we looked despairingly off court for our missing person, and adjusted to having one less pair of hands to move the ball, we settled down and tried to play a little harder and smarter than our opposition.
Sometimes (the minority of the time in fact) playing one down can be easier. There are tactics and techniques that can be used to make up for the absence, and teams with inferior nous can get their patterns upset by having one less person to defend. At any rate, whatever we did worked and we wound up winning though, 30 -27.
That's kinda cool (having been beaten on occasion by teams that did the 5 player thing so well I didn't even notice they only had five), but I was too busy shooting the longer range 2-points shots from the edge of the circle to notice that I scored all of those 30 points. We figured out after the game that I was the only one in our team to land any shots (apart from a couple of singles that were disallowed).

So that's cool, I've never done that before, and it is probably a personal best score for me. My game stats were at best 70-80% of shots landed vs those attempted, but it was one of those games where I got a nice groove going with the shooting early on, got the confidence up and just kept on going (not having any defenders able to trouble the shots helped). Having been in a general shooting slump recently I like it when that happens.

Whaddarya?*

Listening to: The Crossing - Big Country (1983).

So last week it was announced that we are 100 days out from the biggest event this country has ever seen since the last really big event we held (probably something to do with yachts). The hype is present and building, along with various exhortations to 'support our boys' like they are going off to war or something. Never mind that those boys are already being paid handsome sums to do their jobs, are representing the unofficial state religion and have lets see, 20 years of failing to win this tournament to motivate them (oh and while you are 'supporting the boys', make sure you buy the merch they are endorsing). The erstwhile judge has already expounded on this here, and he is a better writer than me so I'll leave him to it.

Call me cynical, and perhaps even not a real New Zealander (mate), but a lot of the time I am just over Rugby. I never played it (apart from Touch), never wanted to, and don't really follow any teams below the International and National level. I just don't really care. I like getting together with friends and watching big games, but my engagement ends there. I'm not the guy to talk to about rugby as small talk in the pub. Aside from it's omnipresence, it also produces more than a few ugly attitudes and behaviours I don't want to be associated with ("Rugbyhead" isn't a term of praise for a lot of people).

My apathy toward the game is rooted in over exposure (as well as going to a rugby dominated school and playing soccer, but that is another story). There is far too much of it. Professional rugby is everywhere, in advertising, endorsements, talking heads news spots and player interviews that say the same thing every week, a season that lasts from February to November for a supposed winter sport. It used to be something other than a simple commodity (and for me as a non-player, and non huge fan, that is what it is). I particularly miss afternoon internationals. They had real atmosphere in the late afternoon sun (or not on one memorable occasion), and were a good set up for a Saturday afternoon and night. There is more money to be made in playing them at night though, so that is how they are now.

I am in truth looking forward to the actual World Cup games a bit, and hoping we win the damn thing again so we can stop hearing about it, but I can only admit to liking rugby on a sometime basis rather than loving it. And as a liker rather than a lover, I found it a bit irritating to be exhorted at by the head-man-what's-in-charge to get in behind the World Cup by basically spending money on it as something resembling patriotic duty. Liking it is one thing, unconditionally loving it with my wallet is something else entirely. And the whole 'Stadium of Four Million' concept is bogus. Lots of people aren't interested, especially as the tickets to the big matches are being priced for the tourists rather than the locals. For many they are just unaffordable. The comments thread attached to the story is more than a little revealing about how this event is being seen by some.

Particularly fun though was utterly-antithetical-to-traditional-rugbyhead-ideals comment #69, reproduced here in glorious full:

"Hmmm...tickets too expensive...concerns about anti-social behaviour from boof-heads...I've got it! Lets turn the 2011 RWC into a gay event! It's makes perfect sense: muscle-bound, fit young men grappling their sweaty selves in their tight outfits, and "Get in behind!" would be a perfect logo, too! The GLBT community are well-heeled (and what heels, too - fabulous!), so the high prices won't be a problem. The beer could be replaced with cocktails. And just imagine what a party Party Central would be! The RWC is the perfect gay event - I'm surprised no-one has thought of this before! I'm sure Martin Snedden would be more than happy to 'Get in Behind!' making RWC 2011 the GLBT event of the decade!"

That would be hi-freaking-larious. They could even combine it with usual rugby provider Sky TV's current "Make Sky your happy place!" ad campaign. Instead of beer or cocktails, they could just hand out Ecstacy and bottles of water**- "Welcome to the game; make Rugby your happy place!"

*For non NZ readers, refer this play.
**Not seriously advocating drug use, although it would be a hell of an interesting experiment to watch if applied to the traditional fan-base...

Just not Cricket

Thirty years ago today since the most notorious incident in the history of trans-tasman sport (and the one we have most consistently refused to get over).

The whole over is on youtube:


Once thing I hadn't noticed until today is Bruce Edgar at the non-strikers end giving Trevor Chappell the fingers right after the delivery. Also interesting seeing a very young Ian Smith, players and keepers happily not wearing the extra pads and helmets they do today, and being reminded that while legendary as a bowler, Sir Richard Hadlee could be a useful batsman as well.

I probably watched at least some of the game live, but I don't really remember this as it happened, although it became an inescapable staple reference in almost every backyard cricket game I have ever played (including lunch break cricket at work as an adult). Being four and given the local time it would have screened I was probably already in bed. Apparently though our house got an almost immediate phonecall from a family friend in Australia to apologise.

Edit: I found an interesting Australian piece on it here, with interviews of key participants. It is interesting that it was reviled as much in Australia as here. Someone should point out though that 'piggy' wasn't a term of endearment for Robert Muldoon ("Rob Muldoon before he robs you!").

I do remember Lance Cairns' six sixes a couple of years later:


Legendary moment, so legendary it almost completely overshadows the fact that we got smashed in that game.

Even so, it was probably the greatest era in NZ cricket. It is no wonder the Beige Brigade chose that strip to resurrect. A quick glance at the news tonight reinforces that the current generation = not quite so legendary.

Match Fit

Listening to: Ignite - Shihad (2010). And the washing machine which is much less melodic, although about as noisy.

Currently icing my right thumb after over-extending it again at Indoor Netball tonight, typically on the last play of the game. I've sprained both thumbs at the base a few times over the years, so any misdirected force at that area tends to upset them a bit. This time it is quite mild, with no swelling or visible bruising after an hour or so. The cool-pack is making it hard to type though, although resting it on the keyboard takes care of the elevation. Typing without one thumb is tricky though.

I've been playing this sport in particular for nearly fifteen years, and while it is ostensibly non-contact, the nature of the gameplay allows plenty of scope for injury. I've noticed that noobs get injured more easily than experienced players; I've seen a few serious injuries happen to people in their first game. Over time you learn how to anticipate the action, and avoid getting messed up if you can. I don't tend to pick up many injuries these days, although I have plenty of experience of strapping things up with the ubiquitous tape if required.

On the way home I tried to think of all the netball related injuries I have incurred over the years (none career ending obviously). Here is my catalogue of minor woes:

-Spraining the aforementioned thumbs, both of them, more times than I can remember. At least once required physio. Strapping thumbs is annoying, since I have to shave the top of my hand and wrist (just way easier to remove the tape if you remove the hair first).

-Spraining every finger multiple times. At one point I had strapping applied to all my fingers at once. Most memorable example involved a physiotherapist taking one look (it was various shades of yellow, blue and purple) and sending me to have it to be x-rayed before doing anything else to it. It wasn't broken, and she was eventually convinced the bend in my finger was normal after comparing it to the one on the other hand.

-Sprained both ankles repeatedly (but never at the same time, and never as bad as the time I sprained one at a rock concert, when I could feel the ligaments tearing en masse). Also involves shaving for comfortable strapping, leaving one ankle naked looking for a while after the tape is no longer required.

-Sprained a shoulder when someone landed on me (it is only a non-contact sport in theory really). That was uncomfortable, requiring physio at the time, and some time later after it had got out of alignment while healing, and again peculiar shaving for the strapping tape.

-At least three minor concussions (again, non-contact in theory).

-One or two black eyes (see above).

-A very bruised and sore side of pelvis and hip after landing flat on my side from a height of three or four feet.

-Lifted and pulled back nails on both fingers and toes from contacting this that or the other.

-Occasional shin splints from years of running around on usually concrete backed astroturf.

-Sprained Achilles tendon, which resulted in fluorescent pink strapping tape applied by the physio, and the first injury I thought might be the one that stopped me playing for good if it couldn't be made right. I noticed Jolene Henry had the same tape in the same location for presumably the same reason during the Silver Fern's recent Commonwealth Games campaign. Me and Jolene are tape buddies!

-Countless scrapes, cuts, grazes and bruises from interactions with the turf, net, the wall just behind the net once, and other players (including once coming home with someone else's blood on my fingers, gained in some unnoticed incident). Band-aids hurriedly applied on sweaty skin almost never stick.

Meh, it could be worse (I haven't broken anything yet, or ever for that matter). I've seen worse plenty of times. None of the niggles are crippling, and if that is the price of being active and participating rather than couching so be it.

Sad but True

Despite our nice reputation, a lot of Kiwi's just can't handle booze. Combine it with losing in a sport held dear and things get pretty ugly.

Rowdy crowd mars Eden Park Test

Eden Park 'louts' anger

Unruly Eden Park mob a League problem

As usual, the comments are more telling than the stories themselves. The last one is an opinion piece, and the title isn't really right. Go to any major sports event (and even some not so major ones) and the pathetic, embarrassing behaviour on show at that match is evident. Some people go to watch the game, others just go to get drunk and have 'an awesome time', which is usually less than awesome for those around them. I've seen dickheads at every big sporting event I've ever been to, and had my manhood and sexuality questioned on more than one occasion for not enthusiastically joining in with childish obscenity laden insults directed at either players or officials (going back as far as high school). Not everyone does this, but the idiot minority is usually big enough to be unavoidable.

Couple of things this highlights:

-Some people in this country know how to drink responsibly, but for a vast amount their drinking habits stopped developing before leaving high school: drink as much as you can for as long as you can. I understand in other countries it is embarrassing to be seen drunk in public; here it is practically an expectation. I started out that way, but always being something of a cheap drunk (my alcohol tolerance has always been low for my body type, so low in fact that terrifyingly I can be what I would consider drunk and still have a blood alcohol level that would let me legally drive), as I have gotten older I find myself drinking less and less. I'll partake if it suits, but don't need it to have a good time. I like the buzz and the relaxing effect, but hate being drunk, and hate being around drunk people when I'm sober, and a hangover now just means a morning or a day wasted.

-Combining the latter group of excess drinkers with sports exacerbates a second tendency: national insecurity. The need for validation means we can be incredibly ungracious winners (as supporters-the sportspeople themselves are generally well grounded about winning and losing), and incredibly bitter and sore losers. Combine this with a perceived 'right' and need for alcohol while watching sport (I know people who wouldn't bother going to a game if it was dry) and idiocy ensues. Supporters wearing an opposition jersey, or applauding opposition points skilfully scored are asking for trouble, and I am not talking about good natured banter, I'm talking real hatred and harrassment. I've seen it happen, and it disgusts me. I have trouble reconciling it with our supposed image as a laid back easy going friendly nation.

-Another facet of the insecurity thing is our supposed fundamental rivalry with the Australians in almost every area possible. It is there for sure and one or two sports almost revolve around it, but the truth is the rivalry is massively one way. We care about it way more than the Australians do.

We've clearly got issues.

Epic Clutch Shooting

This, after 22 minutes of sudden death extra time on Thursday night trading shot for shot with our almost equally ice-cool opposition, produced the two goal break needed to win...

Thats effectively 25 minutes (if you include the end of regular time) of every shot being a clutch game rider shot. As a shooter by trade I am a bit wow in contemplation. More pictures here, and match report here. This is already being referred to by some as the greatest international netball match ever played, and I'm not really inclined to disagree. It was as fine a display of pressure shooting as you'll ever see, from both sides. Primo result for us to succesfully defend the Commonwealth gold title we grabbed from the Australians in Australia in 2006. Not so primo for the Australians, but thats sport. The two teams are so close together that anytime they meet it is anyone's game. This time we made it ours.

Secret to All Whites World Cup Success revealed

Listening to: Paradigm Shift - Rhian Sheehan (2001)

Spot the difference. All Whites captain Ryan Nelsen:
The Incredible Hulk

Paraguay just didn't make him angry enough.

Fun while it lasted

Our world cup campaign is over, but for once it was worth the hype (unlike a certain other ball sport that dominates this country). The path that we started down back in November (and talked about here) has reached its end.

I can vaguely remember our last visit to the world cup in 1982; this one was much better (linky). We didn't win any games, but in gaining three draws didn't lose any, including drawing against the current cup holder, which is an amazing achievement in context (a realistic pre-cup expectation was to lose all three based on ranking alone). And while we didn't get past the first round, we are in good company; neither did both of the 2006 finalists, among many other good teams whose cup campaigns are also over.

Its been a pretty good ride.

Netball win

Thumping a team you have always had close and occasionally fractious games with (including one that was called off for excessive niggle) by 20+ points always feels good. Did that tonight with my new team. We got an early lead of a few points, but blew it out in the second half with a couple of big scoring quarters to post a 50+ final score.

Also nice was the Wellington Pulse finally picking up a win on the weekend, at the only game I have been to this season. I think they won because I was there. They had mojo when I was watching; when I got stuck in the queue for the bar for most of the third quarter they didn't and lost most of their lead. They only picked up again when I was back courtside. I may be their secret weapon.

Apart from highlighting where some of my windows need re-puttying, I am liking the rain tonight. It is falling more or less straight down since there isn't any wind, and it isn't too cold. It is perfect rain for a nice contemplative walk, but it is late and I am tired. That said, here seems to be the only place in the country that has avoided a heavy rain warning for the next day or two (link). The storm is passing around us it seems.

Suck and Sweet

Listening to: Out of time - REM. 'Radio Song' could have been tailor made for wistful 90's montage sequences I reckon

First the suck. When I heard there was a fire on a certain Wellington street that a friend of mine lives on, and wondered it if it was her place, and had a look at the picture on line, and thought, 'nah that doesn't look like her place', I was wrong, and in fact my friend's flat did in fact burn the other day (Linky).

Luckily she wasn't at home, and her room is downstairs, so didn't actually combust. All her stuff is now wet though (although thoughtful firemen managed to get a plastic drop sheet into her room to keep some stuff like her bed dry), and she will likely have to find a new place to live. Suck. Especially when you hear what the supposed story is behind the fire, which I'm not going to retell here because this is a public forum, and it is likely sub judice and only 'alleged' at the moment.

That's the suck then, onto the sweet.

The NZ football/soccer team qualifying for the next World Cup is pretty sweet (video linky here, complete with hype and gushing commentary), even if it will take a while for this rugby obsessed nation to grasp just how big a deal that is. The All Whites (as opposed to the All Blacks rugby team for the non local readers) last went to the Soccer World Cup in 1982 (which I can remember, along with the Springbok Tour (linky) and bunch of other events I can bore younger people with in the relating).

I'll confess to not being the biggest football fan, and find it much more fun to play than to watch (and I did play as a schoolboy). I never watch it (apart from what gets on to the plays f the week), and didn't make plans to watch this game, attending a house warming and some leaving drinks instead. But since the game was being held in my city, and I was interested in the outcome if nothing else, and I could see the stadium as I drove into the city for the farewell function, I started listening in on the car stereo, and then I was hooked, lined and sinkered. I watched the second half of the game in the bar where the drinks were on. The tension with us being 1-nil up was palpable, which made the saving of a penalty attempt to equalise by our keeper even more memorable. The final three minutes of injury time after the official clock had run down were probably among the longest ever experienced in New Zealand sport.

The coolest moment though was when I wasn't watching the game at all. I had parked the car and was walking across the road to the bar when the single and ultimately winning goal was scored. On the central sity street I could hear the roar of celebration from the crowd at the stadium more than two kilometres away. That was cool, and definitely something to tell the kids about years from now.

Shorts of Intimidation

Listening to: Core - Stone Temple Pilots

Broke out my preferred summer playwear at Indoor Netball on Monday night, the first warm and muggy night of the season, in the form of the sleeveless T shirt and the trusty bandanna. The netball centers being large sheds with poor ventilation and no air conditioning can get more than a little toasty. Here is a representative pic from the summer before last of me practicing my steely eyed and calculating down court stare, with Fi doing the same behind me. NotKate probably took this, since clearly I didn't.
Of course, with the lack of sleeves, out come the arms, naturally a shade of pale white, now practically incandescent after a lack of exposure over the winter. And with the arms out, so are the tattoos. This makes me feel a little posey and self concious, but the bandanna keeps the sweat out of my eyes and the tank top makes a big difference in the melting stakes on a hot summer night. I tend to run pretty hot anyway, and never play in anything more than shorts and a T even in the middle of winter. Some people play in polypros and woolly hats on cold nights. I'd desolidify onto the floor if I tried that.

Still I'm sure some people are thinking 'POSER!'. Meh, at least I'm not wearing skins. I am wearing my intimidation shorts though in this pic:

I got them when I played a season of Superleague for the center a few summers ago. Superleague is like the serious grown up professional cousin of the social league games I normally play. Teams practice, have coaches, have uniforms (kinda like proper outdoor netball even). The overall skill level is a lot higher than the social grades (being that I played for the lowest grade team at the club, I'm not saying my own skill is a lot higher than the social grades, but you get my drift). Superleague players also play in the social leagues as well (and seem to be regarded as having some kind of mystical aura of super skill by the social players at times), so when I'm taking the court and I see someone wearing those shorts, I know they could be potentially a tougher opponent than the rest.

Hence the shorts of intimidation. I wear them if I am feeling confident and want to put some psyche on the opposition before the game starts. And often if I am wearing them I will play better, since I am like, reprazenting (YO!) and stuff.

Or if my regular black and yellow Canterbury harlequin rugby shorts are in the wash.

Check out the spectacular ACTION SHOT! Apologies for the graininess, these were shot at something crazy like ASA 1200, since using a zoom lens without a flash in a softly lit arena isn't conducive to sharpness at more rational exposure speeds.

Also note the player I am blocking is wearing cotton gloves to protect her fingernails. Which is fine, except for the fact you can't catch anything with them on. Another shot of this game shows the scoreboard, and we were stomping these guys, which figures. The power of the shorts of intimidation combined with wussy cotton gloves is not to be trifled with.

Top of the table

Netball was more interesting than usual last night. Ever since the centres started posting their points ladders and draws on line, the statisticians in the team have had a field day, as well as drawing useful information about the nights opposition.

Mostly useful anyway. Last night my current Monday night team 'Artless Zen' (occasionally known as 'The mighty Zen' encountered the top of the table 'Silver Perms' (the randomness of social Indoor Netball team names hasn't really gotten old yet, even after 13 years (Crikey!) in the game).

I often partake in a little on line research before the game to get an idea of form, and figure out what sort of game we might expect, which is probably counter productive when an 'easy' team turns out to be 'hard' due to false expectations, but satisfies idle curiosity anyway. Also I tend to remember what the other teams in our grade were like the last time we played them without recourse to the internet.

The Perms though were a mystery in the latter regard, since we hadn't played them yet this season. They had however beaten every other team in the grade, and averaged a respectable 40ish points per game in the process. Zen on the other hand had only lost one game so far, but had lots of narrow (by less than 6 point) wins. Knowing that this was a top of the table game added a certain frisson to things. I don't take the game as seriously as I used to, but I still like to win. On paper our opposition looked intimidating

Further frissonage was added courtside when they turned up for the game. You can get a rough idea about how clued up and good a team is by checking them out before the game. They looked good, and I wasn't too confident about our chances of victory. My normal underrating of myself added to the feeling - "they look like better players than me" etc etc.

So we get the game started, and it was a bit messy. Both teams defended well, but their offenses took a little time to get organised. Meanwhile I realised early on that while the guy I was marking looked capable (and was) I could mark him out of the game most of the time. The first chink in the armour of formidability was noted. They were also going for 2 shots and missing, and fouling a lot in the circle.

A little later on I noticed we were going point for point and I thought "hey these guys aren't as good as I expected". The chink was turning into a crack. Far from adding to the oppositions list of victories, we were competing, and leading a lot of the time.

That changed in the third quarter though when they started landing some 2's and lifted their game a little, and opened up a 5 point lead and I thought "this is why they are top of the table". We weren't landing our 2's, and the game was slowly being taken away from us. We were staying in touch though by ticking over the 1's nearly everytime we got the ball to the circle.

Still, at the start of the last quarter we were still four points down and I thought "We can make that up but its an ask the way they are scoring at the other end" and resolved to lift my game a bit and play as hard as I could to the end of the game. Turns out the rest of my team had the same idea, and basically shut the opposition 2 point shooters down. With them missing, the game was anyone's. We took the lead with about a minute to go, and looked good to extend it only to lose the ball and go level with about 30 seconds to go. The last thirty seconds passed with a wild combination of dropped passes, fumbled ball, missed shots, everybody yelling advice and encouragement (including other teams in our grade on adjacent courts who had finished before us and were watching) before the game ended.

In a draw. We could have won, we didn't win, but we didn't lose either, and I am happy enough with being in the only team the Perms haven't beaten this season, holding them to one of their lowest scores of the season in the process. Plus I know that they are very beatable now, which is good since I think we will be rematching in a final not too long from now. Looking forward to it.

****

Exemplifying the randomness, here are some of the Indoor Netball team names I have played for over the years. I can't begin to remember them all:

Fully Flavoured (named after something read on a beer label), The Ramons, Artless Zen, Random, The Screaming Orgasms, Suspect, Spahtanz, Teachers Pet, I Pity The Fool, Sparkle Motion, Tigers go Grrr, Guns go Bang, Cows go Moo, Balls on Top.