Sports Mad

I think the anecdote I trotted out most when overseas, to describe Australians, was the one about the survey they did here on the republic. Australians' three main concerns were:

- Would we be still be able to compete in the Commonwealth Games?
- Would we still get the Queen's birthday as a public holiday?
- I can't remember the last one.

The key issues then: bludging and sport (and associated memory loss perhaps). I don't think we have such a reputation for bludging anymore, but we are still – if not more – as sports mad as when I left. That hasn't surprised me. What has is the sport that has captured the hearts and minds of Sydney-siders after what seemed an irreversible slump: Rugby League. Then you've got the AFL finals coming up, and the Bledisloe Cup. In short, no respite. Meanwhile the English Premier League has just started again, and I am at last facing the reality of being in the suckiest time zone in the world for watching European sports. Crap!

The consolation will arrive in summer: being able to watch the most highly anticipated Ashes series in about twenty years. Today I got to thinking about Don Bradman and how the very best sportsmen are so willful and stubborn that they must be able to pretty much decide when they cark it. And if they can, did it play on the Don's mind that he just missed out on an average of 100? Did he set himself the challenge of getting to his 100th birthday as a kind of rewrite of history? Stay tuned for the Don Bradman novella.