Resist the dominant paradigm.
I don't even know what that title means, but it sounds right. I heard some stand-up comedian say it on telly the other day.
You know what I hate? The Brisbane Broncos. Not because of their legion of arrogant, boorish barrackers. Not because those barrackers all turn up missing when the Broncos lose, surfacing only to mutter darkly about 'southern conspiracies'. Not even because their sainted coach, Wayne Bennett, didn't publicly support Superleague until they took the Origin job off him; despite being the driving force in the club behind the signing of most of the players.
Nope, none of that, although they're all good reasons. The thing that really annoys me about the Broncos is the name. Hey fellas, this is Australia, we don't have Broncos here. We have Brumbies, we have Buckjumpers, we even have scrubbers (not Pommy slapper ones either, although I s'pose you could find a few if you looked for them) but we don't - or shouldn't - have Broncos.
Same as those blokes from Townsville - Cowboys? - hello? In Australia, fellas, a cowboy is some old busted arse stockman who isn't able to do the hard stuff any more and so is given an honourable retirement milking the house cow(s) and maybe doing a bit of gardening. Or at least he was, until everybody started rehearsing for when there is a single world culture and decided that we don't have 'stockmen', 'ringers', etc., but have 'cowboys' instead.
What makes it even worse is the fact that I like the Cowboys. The team, not the name. I met a few of the original players when I was staying in Townsville in the nineties, all their supporters* had a great attitude and the atmosphere at Stockland stadium was addictive. Everything the Broncos aren't.
What brought this rant on is the fact that one of the new blokes who started at my soon to be ex-workplace wears a Gill Bros. Rodeo hat. I met Brian Gill a few times in the eighties in Alice Springs. A real old time Aussie, Brian refused to call his traveling show a rodeo. It was a Buckjumping Show, same as it was when he started on the road with his parents in the twenties. I'm guessing Brian must be dead now, hence the hat.
Brian had lost one of his legs in a work accident many years before I met him (I don't know if he checked down the back of the couch, that's where everything goes when I lose it) and he had a fairly fancy plastic and steel set-up from his knee down. In the Territory dust gets everywhere. When dust enters a joint, the joint squeaks. Every time Brian shifted his weight it sounded like a mouse with a microphone. I was talking to Brian once, but couldn't concentrate because of the squeaking. In the end I told him to "Hold that thought", went and got a can of CRC, pulled his trouser leg up and soaked his knee. Didn't make any difference, though.
*supporters are still visible when the team is losing, not so with Barrackers.
You know what I hate? The Brisbane Broncos. Not because of their legion of arrogant, boorish barrackers. Not because those barrackers all turn up missing when the Broncos lose, surfacing only to mutter darkly about 'southern conspiracies'. Not even because their sainted coach, Wayne Bennett, didn't publicly support Superleague until they took the Origin job off him; despite being the driving force in the club behind the signing of most of the players.
Nope, none of that, although they're all good reasons. The thing that really annoys me about the Broncos is the name. Hey fellas, this is Australia, we don't have Broncos here. We have Brumbies, we have Buckjumpers, we even have scrubbers (not Pommy slapper ones either, although I s'pose you could find a few if you looked for them) but we don't - or shouldn't - have Broncos.
Same as those blokes from Townsville - Cowboys? - hello? In Australia, fellas, a cowboy is some old busted arse stockman who isn't able to do the hard stuff any more and so is given an honourable retirement milking the house cow(s) and maybe doing a bit of gardening. Or at least he was, until everybody started rehearsing for when there is a single world culture and decided that we don't have 'stockmen', 'ringers', etc., but have 'cowboys' instead.
What makes it even worse is the fact that I like the Cowboys. The team, not the name. I met a few of the original players when I was staying in Townsville in the nineties, all their supporters* had a great attitude and the atmosphere at Stockland stadium was addictive. Everything the Broncos aren't.
What brought this rant on is the fact that one of the new blokes who started at my soon to be ex-workplace wears a Gill Bros. Rodeo hat. I met Brian Gill a few times in the eighties in Alice Springs. A real old time Aussie, Brian refused to call his traveling show a rodeo. It was a Buckjumping Show, same as it was when he started on the road with his parents in the twenties. I'm guessing Brian must be dead now, hence the hat.
Brian had lost one of his legs in a work accident many years before I met him (I don't know if he checked down the back of the couch, that's where everything goes when I lose it) and he had a fairly fancy plastic and steel set-up from his knee down. In the Territory dust gets everywhere. When dust enters a joint, the joint squeaks. Every time Brian shifted his weight it sounded like a mouse with a microphone. I was talking to Brian once, but couldn't concentrate because of the squeaking. In the end I told him to "Hold that thought", went and got a can of CRC, pulled his trouser leg up and soaked his knee. Didn't make any difference, though.
*supporters are still visible when the team is losing, not so with Barrackers.
1 Comments:
When I was a punter, the bastards were called 'hacks'. Jafa.
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