And now… MORE about sports….

As many of you are aware, we were very fortunate to have a couple destination options for this international assignment – Brussels, London, and Melbourne. As we were weighing the pros and cons of each, we received some excellent advice from our friends Donna and Dirk – long time expats themselves. Dirk said, “As you’re choosing, think about what you’ll be doing when you’re NOT working. Consider where you want to wake up each morning.” Hmmm foggy London? With the bad traffic and high cost of living? Or Melbourne? Endless beaches, sunshine, and kangaroos? Right. Melbourne it is. (No, we never considered Brussels…). Donna advised, “When you’re living abroad, don’t live like a temporary citizen. Embrace the city and culture as if you were planning to spend the rest of your lives there.” There have been a few blog references to sports and how Australians – especially Melbournians – are crazy for any sort of sport. As part of our quest to truly embrace the city and ‘live like a local’ we’ve attended a number of sporting events.

Tennis
The Australian Open (one of the big 4 – the other three being US Open, Wimbledon, and The French Open at Roland Garros) is held in Melbourne each January. (Yes, Tanya, you can gloat to your friends that you were correct.) The “Asia Pacific Tennis Grand Slam” is fabulous. The tennis grounds are permanent, with 3 major arenas and 22 side courts where you can get close to your favorite players. You can get up close with Andy Roddick, James Blake, Jarkko Nieminen, the Williams sisters, or Raphael Nadal as they practice, play doubles, or in early round matches, play singles. It is THE BEST way to spend a day. The hot January sun beating down, ice cold VB, hushed crowds, and the rhythmic sound of the tennis ball bouncing off the racket and the new cobalt blue courts – unless of course you’re watching Maria Sharapova where each shot is punctuated with her signature grunt.

If you think this event is completely peaceful and innocuous, here’s an excerpt from the January 16 newspaper, The Herald Sun.

“THE Australian Open erupted in ugly violence last night as police doused tennis fans with capsicum [ed. that’s ‘Strine for pepper] spray. Panic gripped Margaret Court Arena as spectators gasped for air after coming into contact with the spray. Many ran for the exits and the match had to be stopped. Police used the spray to try to subdue fans of Greek player Konstantinos Economidis who became upset when police tried to evict members of their cheer squad.”


Can you imagine tennis fans being so unruly that they need to be pepper sprayed? Yep. If they’re AUSSIE tennis fans.

M&M at Australian Open in Jan

Australian Rules Football
Australian rules football, Australian football, Aussie rules, or simply “footy” is a sight to behold. It’s played between two teams of 18 players on a large oval grass field with four goal posts at each end. Half the footy teams are based in Victoria and I tell you, Melbournians are MAD for this game.

It’s a game I wouldn’t necessarily think of as intuitive and it takes a while to get the hang of how it works. Lots of men without helmets, padding, or any other protective gear running, jumping, tackling, and kicking (the football) back and forth across the field. I have no idea what is going on, but then Matt finally came up with this explanation – imagine a game combined of soccer, rugby, and keep away… THAT’S IT! I’ve got it!

Now, can someone explain why the uniforms are so hideous? There’s one team – Hawthorn – that’s known as the “poos and wees” this is because the team colors are urine yellow and excrement brown. What could be worse than these colors? I’ll tell you what could be worse – the putrid way they’re displayed on the stripped knee socks and jerseys the players wear, that’s what. Imagine thick, alternating swathes of the offending colors. I just can’t get behind a team that looks that revolting.

Neither can our (aforementioned) friend, Tanya. John and Tanya made their second journey to Australia this past March. We had a fabulous time visiting pubs on St. Patrick’s Day, the Melbourne laneways, the Yarra valley and a Hawthorn vs. Melbourne footy match. Hawthorn is a top tier team and they beat the pants off of the Melbourne Demons. How badly you ask? By more than 100 points. That’s not just a win… it’s humiliation. John and Tanya took a spin around the massive arena (which seats 90,000!) and returned with a souvenir. A Melbourne Demons shirt. Tanya shrugged her shoulders, “I just couldn’t pay good money for Hawthorn shirt – they’re horrible”.

This year, Aussie rules celebrates 150 years of Australian Football. I’ve decided to barrack (Australians don’t say root…rooting is only done by consenting adults) for St. Kilda – the area of town closest to where we live. They’re called the Saints and their colors are black, white, and red. Now this is a team I can cheer for!

Tanya, John, and Matt at Footy

Cricket
For us Yanks cricket has always been that genteel game played by snooty British twits wearing white pants and cardigans and saying things like “By Jove, splendid wicket there Lord Reginald!” In reality, cricket is nothing like that: in Australia (and every other cricket country) it is a sport played by the common masses and inspires the same sort of rabid intensity of sport fans of any class or socioeconomic status. In fact, in Australia going to the cricket is considered the ideal party day out for the younger set – which we learned at the matches we attended this year.

Remember a few paragraphs ago where I said Aussie rules isn’t very intuitive? Let me tell you a little about cricket. Cricket has been around over 250 years. It is a bat and ball sport played by two teams with 11 players each, although when a team is batting that team only has two players on the field and they are both batsmen (batters). The batsmen) are “bowled” (pitched) to by a bowler. Why don’t they just say “pitch”, like baseball? Because “the pitch” is a rectangular area of the ground approx. 20 yards length the bowlers run along before they bowl the ball (a hard Cricket ball about the size of a fist, thrown overhand into the pitch, it should bounce once and then reach the batsman). Behind each of the (2) batsman (one on each end of the pitch) there are two sets of “wickets”. Wickets consist of three wooden stumps (a couple feet high) with two bails (wooden doo hickeys) on top.

As a batsman, the object is to hit (bat) the cricket ball in order to defend the wicket that’s right behind you. When you do bat the ball, you and the second batsman (non-striker), run back and forth across the pitch to score runs while the other team (mostly comprised of fielders) races to catch or field the ball and get one (or another) of the batsmen out. If you hit it out of the field (a “boundary”) in the air its 6 runs. A boundary on the ground is 4 runs.

There are multiple forms of cricket but the three most common versions are –20 over cricket, one day cricket, and test cricket, the last which is a match that spans several days. The two longer ones have breaks in the match. The breaks are not called anything like “interval” or “half time”, they’re called “tea”, “lunch” and “drinks”.

Confused yet?

When booking tickets Matt had no idea where to sit so he bought reserved seats, not general admission, to ensure we were not amongst the unwashed masses. When Kris, a co-worker, mentioned all the seats are great except for those in “Bay 13”, which he described as a haven for the young, the drunk, the slightly offensive – you get the picture. Matt googled “bay 13”, and sure enough, it was mentioned in several news articles. The most common adjectives in the stories were “notorious”, “rowdy”, “intoxicated”, and “arrests”. The actual area had been eliminated by a reconstruction of the Melbourne Cricket Ground (aka the MCG or just “the “G”) a few years ago, but the atmosphere lingered in the general vicinity: Hmm, should we be worried our seats were in “section 13”?

We brought our good friends Megan and Will (visitors from the states and cricket virgins) to the match. “It will be a great way to spend a leisurely afternoon” we said. “Sunny Sunday, quiet and relaxing like baseball”, we said. Not in Australia. The fans were intense, riveted, and unruly. In the end we sat above section 13, which meant we were out of the hooligan section but had an excellent view of it. Fans – replete with face paint and wearing Australian flags as capes – were getting hauled off by police at a regular clip and the Melbourne police set up a temporary office to book, fingerprint, and/or fine the offending fans.

Megan and Marlys watched 4 hours before deciding they had enough. Matt and Will stayed on a few more hours until the end. Imagine the poor blokes hauled out of the MCG – some pulled out and arrested even before the first bowl. That means missing 6 (or more) hours of cricket with your friends. Although we suppose that does mean enough time to make bail, sober up, go home, change, have a few beers, and head back to the MCG to meet up with your friends and catch the end of the game.

Some of you may ask how you know when a Cricket match is over and there’s a winner. My answer is: that’s a REALLY good question.

Bay 13

Marlys & Matt at Cricket

Matt wearing Aussie Cricket jumper outside the G

Views on Americans

People often ask us what Australians (and others) think of Americans. Rather than bore you with our thoughts, read the comment section in the article below. The original article was about whether the US is underrated as a travel destination, but in the comments Australians talk about their impressions of Americans and travelling around America.

The good news? Most loved the States, and the ones who don't almost invariably come off sounding like morons.

http://blogs.theage.com.au/travel/archives/2008/04/the_most_underrated_country_in_the_world.html

Enter the Dark Ages

We've written about the drought. We've sent you e-mails in January complaining about how bloody hot it is. No doubt we've created the impression that Melbourne is the land of eternal sunshine.

Well, let us correct that impression. It has been raining. And cold. Every day. For the past two weeks. And since we are approaching the winter solstice, it is also dark. Early. As we go into work and before we go home.

No wonder everyone wears black here. It suits the current mood.

Marlys & Nita - Not Quite Thelma & Louise

While Matt was in the US Marlys has a visit from our sister-in-law, Nita. Nita is “the runner”. She’s run a marathon in all 50 states, every Canadian province (however many those are), and all 7 continents. Nita is now going to honor our time in Australia by running a marathon in all 8 Australian states. She's already ticked off Queensland and came to run in our home state of Victoria and the ACT (Australian Capitol Territory, aka Canberra).

Marlys and Nita hit the town while she was here. One trip was to the Crown Casino, the big Vegas style casino (complete with light and fire shows, cabarets, and swank restaurants) in the middle of Melbourne and right on the Yarra River. Nita and Marlys have gambled before – during a girl’s long weekend with Marlys' Grandma Impi in Vegas in the early 90’s and once when they used the woman's bathroom at the Great Wall in China (a story not really fit for these blog pages!).

The Melbourne casino doesn’t have video poker but it does have blackjack. Nita under-budgeted and over-lost. Marlys had not played blackjack since the Vegas trip with Nita years ago - she plays 3 card poker these days. Fortunately it all came back to her and she went up $75. At which point Nita pounced and announced Marlys was buying dinner. While at the table they met a few blokes, started "the wave", and had people betting on their hands. Marlys earned 5 pairs with one hand, paying out at 25 to one. There was one crazy hand where the dealer almost ran out of table for his cards. He dealt himself 4 - 3 - 2 - 3 - ace - 2 - ace - 8 and he kept counting his cards until Marlys yelled out, "Dude, you got like...an 89!!" which cracked up the whole table. Then someone chimed, "you can keep counting but you lost...pay us!!!".

Many of Melbourne’s city highlights are centered around the CBD (Central Business District – Melbourne’s ‘downtown’). Nita soon became very familiar with the CBD and all it had to offer. But there was one perplexing traffic move – the hook turn. Ahhhh, hook turns. Melbourne has instituted this unique driving phenomenon because of the trams running down the middle of the road in the CBD. Since you drive on the left in Australia, when you want to turn right you would block the tram tracks if you waited in the middle of the road to make your turn. So instead, you turn on your right indicator and proceed to the far LEFT lane, wait for the green light to turn to RED and THEN cross 6 lanes of traffic and two tram lines to complete your right turn. Nita's new favorite pastime became waiting for the subsequent crash which she expected to happen any moment. Her second favorite thing was when multiple cars and a motorcycle are all waiting to turn right. Hook turns are only found in Melbourne so you're just going to have to come here to see one for yourself!!!

And in Today's News....

You’ve heard it before - Australians are a sports-mad people. I know we’ve written it in this blog, and if you Google “sports mad Australians” you’ll get 229,000 hits (now 229,001 with this post). So I’m never surprised that a sports story is on the front page of the paper.

But last week was something else. Here’s what happened. A footy player, Barry Hall of the Sydney Swans, king hit another player in the middle of a match. “King hit” is Australian for “sucker punch”. Not sure why they call it a king hit. Maybe something to do with that famous pugilistic poobah, Don King? Or maybe Billy Jean? Anyhoo, it was captured live on TV and in lots of lurid photographs.

Since then both daily papers – The Age (lefty intellectual broadsheet) and the Herald Sun (Rupert Murdoch’s right wing tabloid) have had stories about Hall and his punch on the front page every single day, with banner headlines and lots of pictures. The stories do vary. Some are about Hall, some about the guy he hit, some about famous “king hits” in the past, sometimes they trot out a neurosurgeon to discuss possible brain injury, etc, etc. But come on people – isn’t there anything more important to write about? Australia have soldiers dying in Afghanistan, there’s a drought on, there are car crashes, and the police are having sex with transvestites in the station houses (no, I did not make that up). At a minimum, Brittany Spears must have done something in the last week!

But no, the king hit stories continued until Friday (a full week after the punch), when the Herald Sun finally led with a different story: they tracked down footy’s most famous female streaker somewhere in the bush of the Northern Territories and scooped an interview. You gotta give it up for the Sun, they found the perfect story: combine sports and naked women, and you can even splash a picture of the woman au natural on the front page to give us some historical context.

Good onya, Rupert.

A Look at That Bike

Judging by our reader mailbag, the "Marlys Gets a Bike" story is the runaway crowd favorite. So here's a picture of Marlys and her new machine (Please pronounced the "ch" as you would in "charge"). Trust us - it has wheels.

Matt’s Quarterly Commute or How to Have a Layover

Judging by the “fan” mail, some of you noticed the dearth of new posts in the last month. Sorry to have disappointed our dear readers, but Matt was back in the States for a couple weeks and Marlys was busy entertaining guests. And oh, yeah - we have jobs, too. However, we do have some half-written posts we are going to finish and display as soon as we have a chance. But here’s something to whet your appetite until we can give you another stirring story of our Australian adventure.

Matt left the Twin Cities last Thursday and was due to arrive in Melbourne on Saturday morning. He had a 7 PM flight from MSP to LA, a two and a half hour layover, then the long flight to Melbourne. Matt normally takes the 5 PM flight from MSP because he doesn’t want to worry about him or his bags making the connection in LA. But this time the travel agent mistakenly put him on the 7 PM and he didn’t bother to change it. A critical error.

As many of you know, the weather in the Twin Cities was terrible that Thursday. Cold with a sort of rain/snow/slush combo precipitation. As a result: the airport was down to one runway for a couple hours, and they even closed for a time. The 7 PM departure became 8:45, and eventually, after an hour of sitting on the ground followed by nearly an hour de-icing, 10 PM. Matt finally arrived in LA at the uncivilized hour of 12:30 AM. (Question: 12:30 is written 0:30 on the 24 hour clock, which captures the late hour much better, don’t you think?). Qantas #94 to Melbourne was somewhere over the Catalina Islands by then.

The problem with missing the connection in LA is that all flights to Australia, whether going direct to Melbourne or Sydney or getting there via a connection, leave within a 3 hour window starting at 9 PM. So if you miss your flight, you can’t "grab the next one" or go "first thing the next morning". Matt faced the prospect of a full day in the City of Angels, no doubt in some cockroach infested fleabag hotel supplied (grudgingly) by Northwest.

All this sounds like the beginning of one of those nightmare travel stories, but thankfully it’s nothing of the sort. While still in the Twin Cities, but knowing there was no way on earth he was getting on his Qantas flight that night, Matt called our friend Anne, who lives in LA, and asked if he could spend the night at her place. And not only did Anne pick him up at the airport at 1 AM (01:00), she called the airline and got him confirmed on the next flight to Melbourne (tomorrow) while he was winging his way over the Great Plains.

So Friday, rather than being spent sitting in the El Roach-o Motel and desperately dialing to get onto a plane to Oz, proceeded completely differently. Anne lives on the beach and it was a gorgeous day in LA, so Matt slept in, got a few work projects done, took a long walk on the beach, followed by burrito lunch, a few hours reading on the beach, and then a Mexican dinner with Anne. (As many of you know, the dearth of Mexicans in Australia means there is absolutely no decent Mexican food on the continent, so the opportunity to inhale as many tortilla chips, black beans, and carnitas as possible is not to be missed). After a few cerveza and great conversation, Anne took Matt to lovely LAX, where he leisurely caught the flight to Melbourne and Marlys. Now THAT’s how an unexpected layover should work.

Thanks Anne!