Is there any sweeter feeling? As of today it’s only 53 sleeps till NRL season 2011 starts. That means only 53 sleeps until nerds like us have an excuse to spend our weekends screaming at sportsmen at footy grounds or on the tv instead of having to, you know, leave the house, wear proper shoes, and pay $17 for cocktails on a Friday night.

Who’s down with that kind of stuff?

Sorry, who’s down with that kind of stuff OTHER than most girls?

Not us, is the answer. We prefer a $4 meat pie and the luxury of reclining on a grassy hill while other humans perform feats of strength and daring for our entertainment.

This is as opposed to what has happened over the past few weeks, where I recline on my chair at work and watch Australia (usually) lose at cricket. In between, I eat takeaway edamame and bitch about how if the umpire can’t call no-balls when they happen, and only refers them when a catch is taken then WHAT IS THE BLOODY POINT OF THE RULE? It’s only being used like … 5% of the time.* Travesty! It fills me with the same kind of rage as when tries are disallowed for a step into touch by the video umpire even though there was a touch judge right there the whole time. If he stepped out, wouldn’t the touchie have called it? Isn’t that his JOB? WELL ISN’T IT?

* disclaimer: am not mathematician. insert your own percentage here.

I just get so mad sometimes, you know? And you know what helps?

Yep, that’s Tim Bresnan of the English cricket team. Tim Bresnan, the man with the best and crispest Sprinkler dance moves in England. He’s celebrating winning the Ashes. Specifically, he’s celebrating by being a dancing dynamo. Bresnan, you fill me with so much joy. I wish you were Australian. Feel free to wait till you’re about to check in for your flight home, tell your teammates you could smash a Boost Juice, and sneak off in a cab, kk?

Also we seriously have to thank various sporty (and non-sporty) dudes for coming up with ways to raise money for Queensland that idiots like us can get involved with. We’re too far away – and probably too unfit – to help in person, but we still want to do everything we can and give all the money we can, and nothing makes you realise how much of a community Australia really is like sport.

I even got completely sucked into watching two hours of the Rally for Relief in Melbourne … but how could I resist?

SPORTS CHICK CHEST-BUMP!

Andy Murray head-butting the ball. Pat Rafter being lovely like Jesus. Novak Djokovic playing winners while sitting on the floor drinking water. Rafa Nadal telling the crowd to “BE GENEROUSLY!” Novak Djokovic offering to put his hands down Ana Ivanovic’s dress to fix her mike. Novak Djokovic and Andy Roddick making ass-jokes … when I see that kinda shit, my brain just says yes, please!

No wonder I ended up donating again.

I also learned educational things. Like that Lleyton and Bec Hewitt are raising a tiny troupe of aryan babies. So blond!

And how Rafael Nadal can totally speak English, he just sometimes pretends not to. He’s the Fui Fui Moi Moi of tennis!

My only hope is that Fui is one of the Parramatta players who head up to Queensland tomorrow to help first hand with flood relief. You need giant objects moved? You need this man.

We also hope that Mark ‘Piggy’ Riddell, his lady and his new little baby (piglet?) are doing well.

disclaimer:may not be actual child in question.

And if you now need to close this window, well, why don’t you open this one?

Tennis pics: Getty Images

1. Finally, and officially: he’s prettier than us.

Yes, I know it seems like this something we would’ve realised earlier. But one of the beautiful things about the game we call cricket is that bowlers spend most of their time at least several hundred meters from us, meaning we can delude ourselves into thinking that faceless blob out there shining the ball on his pants actually looks like the average human male.

On the internet, shit gets close. The truth is way harder to ignore when he’s right there on yo laptop.

via Test Match Special.

FYI, our Errol-friend Tooves informs me that is, in fact, cricket journo Jonathan Agnew’s wife copping a perve in the background. The woman has eyes, after all.

2. Apparently an ‘anonymous’ spinner also has opinions on Stuart Broad’s pretty:

I’ve often said to him, if he had a pair of breasts, I’d fancy him too. But generally I just want to punch him in the face. But you can’t reach.

Why does Graeme Swann feel the need to be ‘anonymous’ when he says this? NO JUDGMENT FROM US.

That bitch Broad is the Taylor Hanson of English cricket.

Broady: causing straight boys to question their sexuality since 2007. Who can blame ya, Swanny?

Thanks to the awesome TheChookPen for the photo heads up xx

First of all: have you been reading Kiki’s awesome 12 days of Christmas posts?

They’re the mental equivalent of getting a delicious advent chocolate every day … if advent chocolate had a centre made of hilarious and embarassing photos from Lowes catalogues. Go! Read! I’ll wait.

And now that you’ve spent a good twelve minutes trying to figure out what kind of man buys a three piece fuschia sheen-finish suit from Lowes, let’s talk about the fact that Sonny Bill Williams is back.

We will always remember you, SBW, as the first man to start an international NRL manhunt.

He’s also boxing again, apparently against a man named Scott who drives forklift for a living.

[Before you ask, no Sonny Bill, forklift drivers don't have a salary cap].

My only regret is that this time SBW didn’t make the announcement about his fight wearing a little beanie and sporting a spray tan like the last time. The good thing about it, though, is that I then got completely distracted thinking about Sonny Bill Feelings with his Dora the Explorer backpack and clever disguises in all our old Errol blogs and forgot for a little while that I have a horrifying new addiction.

English cricket blogs.

I wish I were kidding.

And I don’t mean, like, blogs with writing ‘n’ shit. This is a very specific addiction: Swanny’s Tour Diary.

The English Cricket Board decided to let Graeme Swann loose during the Ashes series with a video camera and access to both YouTube and the interwebs. And the other day I sat down and watched all five episodes of it. In a row.

But, but, they’re … English! They have horrible leather man-jewellery, and wear inappropriate sandals when they could just wear havaianas! Seriously, they’re English. And Swanny does lame embarassing shit like using the peace sign as a goodbye.

Yep, I know all this. Usually hating the poms (except Monty Panesar, cause he’s completely adorable) is one of my regular hobbies, but somehow those crafty bitches have sucked me in. Usually I wouldn’t even be able to watch 5 minutes of video this chock-full of rangas and substandard English dentistry … let alone five episodes of it. WHAT’S WRONG WITH ME?

I haven’t had an MRI scan yet so I can’t rule out the possibility that I have some kind of tumour that’s pushing on a vital section of my brain and making me crazy, but while I was drinking my breakfast margarita this morning I came up with some other possible reasons for this new and unpleasant turn of events.

I’m thinking maybe it’s like Stockholm Syndrome. Maybe after watching the English team bat on and on for 8,000 runs over two Tests and what seemed like an interminable length of time I started to get used to them … like kidnap victims do. Whenever they showed a little kindness, like finally ending the slaughter and declaring, I got all grateful. Can that happen with cricket? I’m not a doctor, but I’m 99% sure it can.

Or, maybe, and this is the worst possibility of all … they’re just kind of likeable.

Like last week when Swanny and Jimmy Anderson put on a two-man homo skit involving Jimmy Anderson wearing a towel and running round with a bottle of massage oil. There’s nothing Aussies love more than some gratuitous cross-dressing or mates pretending to be couples.

There’s nothing wrong with being both informative AND interesting, Graeme.

Or the adorable interview with coach Mushi and his three-stripe Adidas beard:

I mean seriously, those massive dorks all did THE SPRINKLER at the end of that video. How am I meant to resist that? I’ve seen the latest Aussie cricket ads and we all know the only one on the team who’s even willing to dance is Doug ‘the Rug’ Bollinger … who then got cut from the team.

Look at him shaking his ass in his cricket whites. I miss him already.

And no wonder I’m all confused with my cricket team loyalties. How am I meant to support my national team if they won’t even dance like idiots on national television?

I’ve even started to get fond of tall, gangly Steve “most boring man in cricket” Finn and his ridiculous 1970s English public school boy haircut. I think I had Feelings when I realised he cut it off.

Think of this post as a cry for help: either Australia has to win this so I have something to gloat about to the backpackers down at Bondi, or I need a hobby.

If 100,000 people watch the next one, Alastair ‘Ceiling Eyes’ Cook plans to flash a nipple … and I don’t want to be responsible for that. Guess it could be worse. I could go for Queensland.

Boring story time: last week I was straight-up exhausted and generally feeling sorry for myself. So we went to see Harry Potter (seriously! so good!) and my friend Eddie brought me two separate home-made snack bags. One of barbecue shapes, and one of pick-n-mix lollies. PICK N MIX. IT’S EVEN BETTER THAN I REMEMBERED. HOW HAVE I NOT HAD THIS FOR SO LONG?

And in an attempt to ease the pain of the off-season here’s a little online pick’n'mix of footy goodness for you to enjoy. A little sweet, a little savoury.

It’s been a week since Greg Inglis settled in at Redfern and apparently while we were all busy talking about whether his skin tone suits red and green (June Dally-Watkins is yet to call me back), things got complicated. Our Errol-idol Russell Crowe went on Jay Leno to tell the world how awesome he thinks GI is, then the Storm got cold feet about granting his release, AND GI got a massive write up in Danny Weidler’s column on the weekend right next to a piece about Paul Gallen taking off his shorts. No one wants to open the paper and see their name next to a pantsless forward, do they?

End result is that Channel 9 news says Souths are worried about GI’s mental and emotional health. The uncertainty is making him upset n that. Well, they say uncertainty. I say moving is a bitch and almost drove me to a nervous breakdown too, so no judgment if he’s had a little cry lately. At some point you just open a cupboard you thought was empty, see a giant pile of clothes and want to die a little.

I guess now we all know why he’s looking so bulky lately. IT’S CAUSE HE’S FULL OF FEELINGS.

And that bit just under his sternum? Pretty sure if you look closely you’ll see that particular bit of feeling is what they call ‘remorse for a late-night service station pie’. I have that too.

Meanwhile the kids at Ad Sense have updated the newest Broncos NRMA ad, which, weirdly, we love.

When did this happen? All of a sudden seeing men in maroon schill NRMA insurance brings joy to our hearts. We can’t pinpoint exactly when we started finding the Broncos endearing, but it may have been the moment we saw Sam Thaiday shaking down a vending machine and Ben Te’o in an apron. Benny and his cake-trolley are welcome at Errol HQ any time.

You heard it here first: NRMA is now responsible for one of the first ever instances of anything good coming out of Queensland.

The only other non-hateful thing they have north of the border that I can think of right now is, of course, the Indigenous All-Stars game in February on the Gold Coast (based on an idea by Preston Campbell, not from Queensland).

They’ve announced the team list and – as expected- the Indigenous squad is a festival of awesome.

It includes fearless leader Preston Campbell, newbie Ryan James (not from Queensland) and his gorgeous silky mane of curls, Tom ‘the Hugh Jackman of rugby league’ Learoyd-Lahrs (not from Queensland), as well as Jamie Soward (not from Queensland), who seems to have grown a truly delightful moustache this Movember.

Sadly, we have at least another two months until All-Stars 2011 comes around. All we can think of to tide ourselves over is the prospect of a really good Ashes series, complete with Warnie’s new tv show, the new range of sweet retro green and gold cricket merchandise at Rebel Sport, and the vague possibility that Stuart Broad and Mitchell Johnson might bitch each other out again. REMEMBER WHEN THAT ACTUALLY HAPPENED? AND WE MADE FUNNY JOKES ABOUT IT? Those were some good times.

Michael Clarke agrees.

Pics. Getty Images

You all know rugby league is our one true love. But dammit we’re only human. Remember last year when I may or may not have spent a good five days ranting on twitter about the many reasons to love Chris Gayle? Like, for instance, the fact that he’s both incredibly talented, and frequently fuck-off lazy? Every time he scores a lightning-fast century then just … gives up and gets out, my heart skips a beat. WHATEVS BITCHES, I SCORED A TON OFF TWELVE BALLS IN TWENTY MINUTES. I THINK I’VE PROVED MY POINT.

Pic. Getty Images

Well, cricket season is back, and that fierce bitch is fiercer than ever. He might even be scoring three hundred against Sri Lanka on my tv right now. Yep, someone must really have insulted him this time if he’s bothering to rack up a triple-century.Maybe it’s to make them regret booting him as Captain. Maybe he just feels like being especially awesome today. Who knows.

The main thing is that if rugby league wants to keep us interested, maybe it needs to up its game.

Cooper Cronk, yes I am looking at you. Maybe you should consider a white microfibre do-rag, a cheeky grin and some diamond studs?

Just sayin.

Love, Sassy.

WHEEE! Another new and exciting gig for us! The lovely people at the New South Wales Rugby League (shout out to Geoff Carr and Doug MacDougall in particular) have given us an absolutely amazing opportunity. We are now traipsing around this beautiful state of ours, visiting NSW Cup teams at their home grounds and writing about them for http://nswrl.com.au

With all the attention on the NRL, the boys of the NSW Cup tend to get a bit forgotten and we will not stand for this! They are freakin awesome and fact is, the majority of your NRL faves played in these teams before hitting first grade. And there’s a hell of alot of players that float back and forth between both comps.

The NSW Cup is far more than just ‘reggies’.

Here’s what we’ve done so far (including some awesome retro pics taken by Errol’s wannabe photographer Kiki) -

SAUSAGE SANDWICHES + THE NEWTOWN JETS @ HENSON PARK

SHIRTLESS INTERVIEWS WITH THE BALMAIN TIGERS @ LEICHARDT OVAL

Check back here often coz there’s lots more to come!

Sup? Nothing…just blogging about The Ashes for Cricket Australia. You know, writing about one of the greatest and longest sporting rivalries in the world. For our esteemed national cricket organisation. That’s how we roll.

Click on the graphic above and it will take you straight to our Ashes lolz.

UPDATE : We are particularly enjoying the outraged Poms commenting on our blogs. Our fave comment so far is ‘Kiki and Sassy are embarassing to all Australians!”. AMAZING.

Hellloooo darlings!

We are filled with giggles, joy and maybe a bottle a little bit of celebratory champagne this morning. Those of you who are members of our Errol Facebook group already know we are now blogging for Cricket Australia. Those of you who aren’t in our group … have a good hard look at yaselves. What sort of fan are you? Disgraceful.

Anyyyyway, we have a new home at www.cricket.com.au. Yes, the official website of Cricket Australia. We can’t believe it either.

CHECK OUT OUR FIRST BLOG HERE

Just when we think we couldn’t get more excited, we wake up this morning to the delightful news that The Age have given us a pretty big write up. US! Little old us! They even called us ‘the dynamic duo’. Funny, because that’s how we introduce ourselves to people all the time.

CHECK OUT THE ARTICLE HERE

Peter Hanlon is clearly our newest favourite person. He and Chloe Saltau gently made fun of us, and even dropped in an Errol link. LOVE! Call us for a beer, you two. We like you.

The last few days has been so exciting we can barely comprehend it. Yesterday, on behalf of 2Day FM we jumped in the press pit at the 17 Again premiere and MET ZAC EFRON. Seriously. It was truly mindblowing.

Needless to say we will be writing a detailed blog on that experience very shortly. Because yes, you do all need to know the exact position of his fringe and how many times he looked us in the eye.

Yes yes I know.  I am a bit late with my comments on the second Australia-New Zealand test.  Yes, the Aussies have won the Trans-Tasman Trophy … by an innings and 62 runs.  Yes, it’s a little sad. I think it even moved Daniel Vettori to swear, which I found tres shocking.

Mainly this is because … have you seen Daniel Vettori?  I feel fairly strongly that the kind of man who won’t even wear contacts when he plays sport is not the man to react badly to losing, no matter how green his team of Kiwi battlers were.

 

Pic: Getty Images

And if you are wondering, that was very green.  And very battlers.  Me speak English good.  If you read our blog over on Triple M about tantric cricket … well draw your own conclusions.  I’m much too much of a lady to spell it out for you.

This test was about a whole different four-letter word: L-O-V-E. Remember the bad patch in Brett Lee and Ricky Ponting’s marriage? How they kept telling you Mummy and Daddy aren’t yelling, they’re just talking about Adult Things?

Well, babies, the counselling worked. Brett starting making an effort again with his appearance and laid off the cake, and Ricky picked up his game and brought back all those little romantic surprises that keep a relationship fresh, like a bunch of flowers on a random Tuesday or a night on the tiles even though he hates dancing.

Just putting in a bit of effort, you know? Taking a catch once in a while. Helping out around the house, so to speak.

Binga totally appreciates it, you can tell:

[Lee] was helped, too, by the lack of fight shown by the New Zealand batsmen with the exception of the pugnacious Brendon McCullum and by a screamer of a slips catch from Ponting to remove opener Jamie How.

“That was the best catch I have seen live,” Lee said. “I actually thought it was past when he stuck his hand out. He couldn’t believe it, I couldn’t believe it, and it goes down as one of the all-time great catches.”

THE ROMANCE IS BACK.

Even Errol’s favourite inflatable fielder Andrew Symonds is in on the love. What’s a pub drama or two between teammates?

And in tribute to our Aussie team, here’s a little Peaches & Herb from the Errol girls:

Reunited and it feels so goooooood.

Australian team Pics: Sebastian Costanzo

Kiddies! We are so excited! More excited than when Big Dell scores a try. YES REALLY! We have been wanting to tell you this for aaaaages but have held off until we could actually show you something concrete. So hereeee it is!

Sassy and I have been officially signed up to Triple M to take over their sports blog for the summer.

Check it out HERE!

We love love LOVE being at Triple M. It’s our spiritual home! We are super excited to work with them on future projects. Let’s just say we are looking forward to the footy season kicking off next year!

So pleaaaaase kittens, go and read our Triple M blog. We will be posting twice a week and it will be different stuff to here at Errol. Make sure you go and comment and let the world know how much you love and adore us. GO GO! NOW BABIES NOW!

And for those of you who are confused and terrified by change, don’t worry, we haven’t jumped the HMAS Errol – everything here stays just the way you kids like it.

(Yeh, we don’t know why our heads are floating in mid-air either. But we have an esky full of beers so who cares.)

It is my personal belief that Twenty20 cricket is one of mankind’s greatest inventions.  I’m not even exaggerating.  If you ask me, it’s right up there with Penicillin and wireless internet and pikelets and Smirnoff Blacks. 

Apparently I am also the only member of the public and of the sports journalism fraternity (KIDDING! no one actually thinks I am a journalist) who thinks this.  According to everyone else in the world Twenty20 will render test cricket extinct, eliminate New Zealand’s test teams, and is only for the kind of idiot who doesn’t understand Proper Cricket.  I can’t be bothered googling any more but I bet somewhere someone is saying Twenty20 cricket also increases global warming and eats babies.

To that I say, how can something that combines sport with a Def Leppard soundtrack and the Kenny Loggins hit Footloose ever be bad?  If loving that makes me an idiot then I AM PROUD TO BE THAT IDIOT.

Test cricket and Twenty20 are like beer and vodka; St Vinnies and quilted Chanel; Gram Parsons and Cher. There is a time and a place for both.  There is also plennnty of room in my summer cricket schedule and on my couch for both, so let’s all snuggle in the cushions, pour a vodka-ginger-ale, and make out, shall we?

Anyway, let’s talk about the Twenty20 comeback on Friday night.  Australia vs the State cricket All Stars.  It was everything I hoped for and more.  And it’s for charity.  Amazing.

GILLY GILLY GILLY GILLY

As much as I missed Twenty20, I missed Adam Gilchrist more.  I don’t care if he’s playing for Australia or the All*Stars.  (By the way I have had that Smashmouth song in my head for the full three days since I heard that stupid name). 

… dear sassy, I feel the same way

I’ve been looking for a new non-sexual cricket husband to replace Gilly for the full six months since he retired, but no luck yet. I still just love that cheeky bastard.  And I think I love him even more now that he’s been retired for only six months and already started getting a little bit chub.  We all know I love an athlete with a few extra kilos, and those skins you were wearing under your uniform aren’t fooling anyone, Gilly darlin.  You might want to invest in some Nancy Ganz.  They make them for men now, too.

My heart ached a little bit when he came out to bat and announced that he got cramps warming up.  And they say cricket isn’t athletically demanding.   Meanwhile whoever came up with the idea of miking players during Twenty20 is a genius.  I would actually quite like to hear Gilly miked up just in his general life.  Calling people old and chubby, talking about his jimmy back, making bad calls to other drivers/pedestrians/his wife like he does to his running partner on the pitch (YES!  … NO! … SHIT SORRY).

His cheekiness and Mike Hussey’s, well … Husseyness, are endlessly entertaining. 

WE LIKE ROY

Pic: Dave hunt / AAP

Man the selectors went all out for this game.  Those bitches just really know how to push my buttons.  Roy made his comeback and said laconic things into the mike and the crowd went crazy and screamed like he is their God.  Which, at the risk of being blasphemous, he pretty much is.  Who else would turn around mid-game and pull out two little kids named Tom and Tom from the crowd and send them out to field on his boundary?  Oh yeah, I said it: ROY IS JESUS.  When I saw those little kids’ joyful and terrified faces my ovaries all but danced in joy.  And when Roy dressed them in his Australian team cap my ovaries grabbed their drinks and made a little conga line, prancing around singing CRICKET-CRICKET-CRICK-ET!  

Cutest. Moment. Ever.  That’s the magic of Roy. 

MY FRICKEN EYESSS

I have to be completely honest, this Twenty20 wasn’t one giant lovefest.  There was some shititude.  Because even though they were finally giving the State cricketers a chance to shine in the ~*~All*Starz~*~ team, they still kinda stuck the boot in at the same time. 

It’s as though the powers that be said: Yes, state-boys-who-get-no-recognition-from-most-of-the-Australian-public … we agree this state of affairs is depressing and unfair.  So we will let you play against some of the Australian team in a flashy televised Twenty20 match (not all the Australian team, cause they’re kinda tired from playing Proper Test Cricket in India, but a few of them). That’s foine.  No worries, mates.  STAND PROUD AND BE COUNTED.

There’s just one catch.  One teensy, tiny catch that we aren’t going to mention until you get to the locker room to change into your uniforms.  You see … you have to wear this:

DAMN.  That is harsh.  I had thought that the normal Aussie Twenty20 uniforms were some of the ugliest things I’d ever seen.  The reason I say that they’re ugly is because … well, because I have eyes.  I also find them a bit creepy, because they make everyone in the Australian team look like they are lifeless robotic legomen.  (Except I would never say that to Andrew Symonds, obviously, because in his uniform he looks like a robotic dreadlocked legoman who could totally kick your ass if he wanted).

Lego celebration!

The most unfortunate is Brett Geeves, because – thanks to his new Movember moustache – he is the sad Mexican Legoman of the Australian team (sombrero sold separately).  Normally I’m a believer that a Mo rescues any outfit.  Clearly this uniform is the exception, and it makes me angry.   The man is growing a kickass mo for Movember, can’t we all show him a little respect and let him wear a proper shirt?

See? Isn’t that better?

Wait … does the Aussie team have a name when they play Twenty20?  I’m thinking maybe Cricket Australia should just run with the hideous uniform Lego vibe and call them the Legomen.  THE AUSTRALIAN TWENTY20 LEGOMEN. We could get them sponsored by Lego!  They would be all over it as a way to target kids and families. YOU KNOW IT MAKES SENSE.  Feel free to use my idea and pay me in booze.

The kids just love meeting their Twenty20 idols.

But, anyway.  That’s not the point.  The point is this: in the scheme of things, wouldn’t you rather look like a Legoman than a jockey?  It’s just demeaning.  Those poor All*Starzzzz.

Michael Dighton may have captivated us all with 32 runs from 8 balls (heh, balls).  But the reward is being on national television dressed as a contender in the Johnny Walker 2500m stakes.

And if you were wondering about the actual game … the lawn jockeys won.