Time To Give'Stevo' The 'Heave-Ho'? : Tue Feb 23, 2010 11:12 pm
Firstly, this is not written by username ‘Full of Hope’, but by a thoroughly unscrupulous password thief, arm-chair anarchist, and reluctant defector to rugby union - a game which, thanks to the man I’m about to chastise, has become the infinitely less derisible branch of our beautifully brutal sport.Whoops! I was about to begin with the preamble ‘If you find Sky Sport’s Mike ‘Stevo’ Stephenson’s commentary to be adequately insightful and probing, you might not want to read on’. However, no need - as those who’d say that they do will inevitably be stuck by now anyway, right back at the start of paragraph one as they wrestle in vain with the complex phonetics of the very first word on my post - “Fuh...Fuhrr...Fuhrrr-urst...Fuhrrr-urst-ley...Firstly” (Well done Forest, now the next one).
Christ, even the ‘great’ man himself shows he’s grasped the rudiments of such playschool-level word formation with his positively perspicacious, if grammatically preposterous catchphrase...
“It’s a T – R – Y for mine!”
Plus, as if it’s not bad enough that our once expansive, fluid, fast-paced, attack-orientated British strain of rugby league has been lost like a ball in a grapple tackle to the one-dimensional, defence-dominated, Aussie-fied game of ‘pass ‘n’ drive’, how fitting that Stevo should share the thickest nation on Earth’s insistence that the game is actually called ‘football’. Basics, Michael. Basics.
Quick question: Is Barrie McDermott actually far more intelligent, knowledgeable, alert, witty, perceptive, interesting and good-looking than anyone gave him credit for, or is it just sitting next to Stevo that makes him appear that way? I’ve no idea how he [Barrie] lost his right eye, but I wouldn’t be at all surprised if it was through one too many despairing sideways glances at the pillock sat beside him yelling crap like “Hey viewers...we got ourselves a pointathon!!!”
And just for the record Stevo – the guys dressed in pink (yes, PINK!) are called ‘Referees’ mate. Not ‘Officials’ - and certainly not ‘Merry Whistle Blowers’, although I’d willingly support any change in name were they to blow their merry whistles on you pal.
But enough of this ‘Stevo-slaying’. There are others just as guilty of giving the ‘kick ‘n’ clap’ crowd all the ammunition they need to keep rugby league, its players and its followers pinned firmly down in ‘dunces corner’, exactly where they’ve always had us. In fact, this sentiment brings me sweetly to my next topic for discussion: Hair In The Modern Game.
Take, if you will, last weekend’s televised contest between Castleford Tigers and Warrington Wolves. Judging by you-know-who’s theatrical, pantomime whooping, it sounded like a fairly good game. However, was I the only one who missed all the action through being transfixed by the frankly ridiculous barnets on show? For a second I thought I’d tuned in to The Simpsons by mistake – not only does Matt King look more like Sideshow Bob than Sideshow Bob, but he plays like the name is his own. Then there was outback outcast Ryan McGoldrick (think Ned Kelly without the iron plated head guard) and his silly, slightly homoerotic rat’s tail dangling down the back of his neck – a fashion that’s recently become ‘de-rigueur’ amongst Super League’s more average players i.e. those whose ball-skills fail to set them apart. But lest we forget the ‘crop’ of the lot – Ryan ‘laugh at me’ Atkins. I don’t know...Can’t his captain, Adrian Morley, or someone with a modicum of sense, take him to one side and say summat along the lines of “Sort yoursen out son. You look like a bloody French poodle”.
Oh damn, I’ve run out of space just as I was getting started. However, I’d like to finish with one final musing...I bet Bradford’s Freddy Mercury (sorry, Glenn Hall) has the post-match shower all to himself!
