Tag Archives: dirk nannes

When Dirk writes, you read

Dirk Nannes has a blog.

Not some sissy over-edited ghost-written namby-pamby load of garbage that you wouldn’t make Delta Goodrem or Sourav Ganguly read, but a real blog type blog.

IOB style.

It’s on wordpress.com for fuck’s sake, it doesn’t get much bloggier than that.

He has already talked about Aaron Finch’s fat ass. You could say that Aaron Finch’s ass is Dirk’s perfect jeans.

I’ve always suspected that Dirk does more in a day than I do in a decade. So any words from him, ass related or otherwise, are valuable and should be read.

At the moment his about section says this:

“This is the Official Dirk Nannes Blog. Dirk Nannes is a left-arm fast bowler in the Australian Twenty20 cricket team, the Delhi Daredevils in the Indian Premier League and the Victorian Bushrangers.”

It’s nice, but it isn’t very Dirky.

I think he should go with this:

“The first time you see Dirk Nannes bowl is the first day of the rest of your life. Write down all the details so you don’t mess any of it up when you retell it to your grandkids. Dirk Nannes is fast bowling. He’s the monster in the closet of T20 batsmen, only coming out to scare and scar them. It isn’t a fair fight, and when it ends in blood and tears, the batsmen is taken away for a quick and anonymous burial. Dirk’s bowling action is far more masculine than any 80s action film. He plays for who he wants, when he wants, and when he isn’t doing that he’s saxaphoning on a ski slope, because he can. If he wasn’t a cricketer he’d still be cooler than you.”

Go check out his blog because, well, it’s dirty dirk nannes’ blog.

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Dirty Dirk in the toilet at Lord’s

I should say he wasn’t actually in the toilet at Lord’s, but he was in there via this picture.

Forget for a moment that Dirk looks like he would rather be anywhere else than the photo shoot.

And even forget that Lebara have found the cheapest no name shirts they could for the ad, and think about what this could have been.

It is placed above the piss troughs at the grounds, it should be Dirk with a shit eating grin on his face, pointing his camera down like he is taking a picture of your cock, while Vaas and Saqlain kick the shit out of someone in a chicken suit in the back ground.

Some people just don’t have the flare for advertising that we do.

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Dirk and I

Yesterday I was commentating Australia playing Bangladesh. It was the first time I have ever commentated on Australia.

For the first innings it wasn’t that important to me, but for the second it became very important when I was commentating on Dirty Dirk Nannes.

In 2007 I sat almost alone in the MCG watching Victoria. It wasn’t the first year I had done it, I’d being doing it for years.  Now it is research, at the time is was wasting my life.

One of those days I saw Dirk Nannes.  I had seen him before, in the 06/07 shield final, but watching this big bad fast bowler storming in with his masculine unpolished run, hitting batsmen, beating batsmen, getting batsmen out and falling over I was captivated.

It was clear that Nannes, who I knew nothing of at the time, was not some spoon fed academy boy.

This was an older player who had taught himself to play, it wasn’t perfect, but it was great to watch, even on the occasions that I saw him fuck up (mostly fielding).

At the time I was a film maker in my late 20s.

I’d just started cricket with balls a few months earlier.  I was a late start to writing, unpolished, incorrect, insane and grammatically wrong.

My writing was self taught as I hadn’t even finished high school, I was at the age where most go and get real jobs and I wrote about cricket in such a way that the establishment would never touch me.

At that stage the chance of Dirk Nannes playing for Australia in an ICC tournament or me making a meagre living off cricket writing would have been a million to one.

3 years on Dirk was beating up the Bangladeshis while I swore on live commentary.

I doubt either of us really saw this happening, neither of us had spent our whole lives trying to get where we are now, but both of us are pretty happy that we are where we are.

Commentating on the big fellas as he took wickets, fell over, and bowled his masculine balls of strength was pretty fucken awesome.

Although to be fair I used to commentate at the G back in 07, but no one listened back then.

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educating the masses on dirk nannes

I figured that the cricinfo audience needed some education on the mythological beast that is Dirty Dirk Nannes.

The problem with being an underground cult figure is that myth and truth can develop until the average cricket fan gets everything confused. I’ve been following Dirk since before the Dutch team came calling for him. I’ve been there when he has bowled in front of a handful of people at the MCG and at Lord’s. I saw his wet Australian Twenty20 debut. So it is up to me to sort out the truth from the fiction.

Myth: He once strangled a bear with his own hands. (It was a lion. But he didn’t kill it, not because he couldn’t, but because killing a lion to prove how strong you are is not cool.)

Truth: He plays the saxophone. John Coltrane once came back from the dead and clapped at Dirk’s rendition of “Alabama”. Normal people would have been freaked out by this, but Dirk is not afraid of ghosts.

Myth: Virender Sehwag cried the first time he saw Dirk bowl in the nets. (Virender Sehwag is too tough to cry, even in happiness.)

Truth: Dirk’s family is Dutch and his father was the inspiration for the Austin Powers character Goldmember.

Myth: His parents are not his real parents; they were actually explorers who were hiking up the Ural Mountains in Russia when they found a cave to have some lunch in. While looking for a nice rock to put their basket on, they found Dirk trapped in ice. (As if Dirk could come from something that sounds like a Pauly Shore film.)

Truth: Dirk is a gifted mogul skier. Although I have never seen him ski and know nothing about mogul skiing, I would say that Dirk is probably the best skier ever, and if he had been in Vancouver he would probably have won like six gold medals. Maybe seven.

Myth: Dirk can speak Japanese. (He doesn’t need to speak Japanese. When he is in Japan he converses with people by playing the saxophone; he is such an emotive player, the Japanese understand him straight away.)

Truth: Even before he became a famous cricketer, lovers of hirsute males would come by his house, as, in 2003, his beard was ranked seventh-best in Melbourne.

Myth: Clint Eastwood travelled forward in time to meet Dirk so he could base the man with no name on him. (Of course that didn’t happen, it is impractical.)

Truth: The Netherlands team briefly thought about not playing in orange as they thought it might emasculate Dirk, but once he was in uniform, they realised it made him even more scary.

Myth: Dirk is a handy batsman who can be relied upon for a plucky 40.

Truth: The ICC rigged the last World Twenty20 so that Dirk could bowl the first ball. They knew that the tournament was stupid and only Dirk could save it.

Myth: The reason that Dirk is such a bad fielder is because no one has ever had the guts to tell him.

Truth: Dirk also plays the harpsichord.

Myth: Dirk quit first-class cricket because he doesn’t like to see a batsman he has just hit stain his whites with blood.

Truth: Dirk is the new CB Fry.

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dirty dirk declares

First class cricket is pretty cool.

It is way better than manga or trip hop.

But it isn’t for everyone.

Dirk Nannes has stated to this very website that his favourite form of cricket is 2020.

To most people that is sacrilegious.

Dirk is not most people.

As far as cricketers go he is the Kakihara of the modern game, cool, unusual and must watch.

He does things differently, is different and goes about life in his own way.

So when he says he is quitting first class cricket on the eve of a second straight shield final, you shouldn’t be surprised.

Dirk’s record in first class cricket is pretty good, an average of 25. So it isn’t like he is shit at it.

However, this year he has played one game of first class cricket.

In his short time he has never played a full season.

I’m not even sure he could make it through more than 3 full games in a row anymore.

And why would he put his body through this?

There is more chance of you walking in on Sarah Palin naked then Dirk playing test cricket, so why would he put himself through it?

As a Victorian fan I am disappointed, but if it means he will continue to play cricket at the top level for Australia, Delhi, Notts and Victoria I can’t really complain too much.

He will still remain the 2020 bone crusher, and that is what he does best.

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Dirty

Due to work on my flat I was up early enough to see the Australia v Pakistan 2020 game.

I would never usually get up before 10 for limited overs, I’m not an animal.

This time I’m glad I did.

Not only did I hear James Brayshaw, aka JB, call Dirk, Dirty Dirk, I also saw Dirk bowl the senond last over for 2 runs and take a wicket.

I think that gave me an emotional orgasm.

I was pushing the Dirk bandwagon when there was no bandwagon, so to see him today, hirsute and magnificent, was almost too much to handle.

This bearded man is a marvel, and were it physically possible I would offer to have his babies.

Even in his interview he made me proud, while Healy was asking his usual sports science questions, Dirk just said I just bowled short and then at the stumps.

This is our cricket Renaissance man, and to see him finally end up where he belongs makes me so very fucken happy.

Well played my friend, well played.

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dirty dirk roars

Victoria are the champions of the Racist Chicken Franchise’s bash, for the 4th time out of 5.

They won the final without their captain, import, best 2020 player or CWB’s Nice Bryce McGain.

They did have the raw beastly power of Dirty Dirk Nannes, a man cricket with balls was talking up when people thought he was a mythical beast of my creation.

Nothing mythical about him now, the dude has travelled the world kicking ass, taking names and bearding all over batsmen.

The Australian selectors still want to distance themselves from him most of the time, and I understand that, his masculinity scares them.

But in this final he picked South Australia up like a rag doll.

8 runs in 4 overs.

Nasty.

There was also the wicket of their courageous leader, 8 runs in 4 overs, that is like scary good.

That is like finding out William Shatner is your dad good.

Dirty Dirk was beating South Australia with essentially one little finger (like you know who) so he even threw in a wide, just for giggles.

Now Victoria is once again of the hirsute one’s shoulders.

I haven’t seen a ball of it, but I know how it all went down.

Dirk entered the ground with his top off and the live version of Blind by Korn pumping.

Women fainted, men fainted, aliens fainted.

The crowd then regained consciousness and got in a collective group hug waiting for Dirk to end their dreams, and their children’s dreamds, and their children’s children’s ….

Dirk stood at the top of his mark and breathed fire, literally, for 2 minutes straight before coming in and bowling thunderbolts, literally.

The crowd was heartbroken, and yet aroused.

Any moment of the game that Dirk wasn’t playing was like watching a friend play a cricket computer game, against the computer.

Then, Dirty Dirk Nannes prevails.

The world can then settle down again knowing that there is a force far greater than them out there, it makes them feel insignificant and content at the same time.

If you are one of those people that think 2020 cricket isn’t real cricket, or that this is a passing fad, let me say this, who gives a fuck, the Vics keep winning at it.

Bring on India so the Vics can lose form for the champion’s league again.

Viva La Dirty Dirk!

Buy the book, get a t-shirt, or donate to the whisky fund.

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Delhi’s Dirk Nannes

It has been a few days since I heard about Dirk’s decision to choose Delhi over Victoria.

And it still hurts.

I understand why he did it, I also know it was not a decision that was easy for him and that it wasn’t a decision one that he made lightly.

But it still hurts.

Cricketers are sort of like non-cricketers; some times they do things for their families.

Dirk is in his 30s, has only just made the big time, has not been groomed from his teens by the Vics, and is not your typical cricketer.

That is why I like him.

But that is also why he might not decide to play for Victoria like some automatically would.

Victoria is the team who gave him a chance, but he was running in and bowling fast well before they sorted out what he was doing.

He was picked to win them games; they didn’t groom him since he was a teen to make it to the top level.

He isn’t less of a Victorian cricketer than Brad Hodge or Cameron White, but he doesn’t have the child/father bond with them the way these boys do.

This all means I understand why he did what he did.

It doesn’t mean I like it.

I fucken hate it.

Victoria still has a top class bowling attack without him, but he is the nipple.

I wrote once that I thought that Dirk would pick Delhi over Victoria, but when it finally happened it still hurts.

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The honeymoon is over

My lady decided that since we only had two days for a honeymoon we should travel up to Manchester to see dirty dirk nannes play agaisnt the poms.

It was a sound idea, and even though public transport was down and we had to drive there we decided to go ahead with it anyway.

We got tickets in the dirty dirk section.

It all started well, it took barely more than 4 hours to get there.

Then after being told we could not check in at our hotel we made our way down to the ground.

Dirk warmed up like a Greek god before creating an ocean, exactly.

The whole crowd could look nowhere else.

It was all fine until Michael Clarke started crapping all over dirk’s day.

It was as if his innings was the very definition of human excrement.

Luckily another Victorian stepped up and saved the innings so that the game and my honeymoon.

Dirk was super ready to destroy England, but the aliens intervened.

They decided that Dirk didn’t need me to watch him.

So I was sent home by the rain.

Only after i took a sensational one handed catch off a cocky 4 year old.

A successful honeymoon I’m sure you’d agree.

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