Tag Archives: matthew hayden

What is your favourite Matthew Hayden Memory?

I love kissing wood.

I’m sure you have one.

Perhaps it was when he called India a third world country.

It could be when he said he often wonders what jesus would do out in the middle.

Maybe it is his first cook book.

But you can’t forget his use of the word skillsets.

The reason I am asking this is because you can win a signed copy of Hayden’s latest book “Standing my ground” if you can come up with an entry for cricket australia, but unfortunatley, you need to be an Australia Cricket family member. And I doubt you are. Unless you live in Melbourne and Sydney and want tickets for the first day of the test. Or, you’re one of those sick types who wants to feel like they are part of a corporate family that just takes your money.

Don’t be too sad, because I’ve found you another way you can own a piece of Hayden.

If you can, in 25 words or less, come up with a reason why Matthew Hayden inspires you, I’m assuming homicidal inspiration is ok, you can apply here.

Now, if you do apply, please put your 25 words or less in the comments so everyone can read them.

The best may make a post later on.

To get you started:

After watching Matthew Hayden’s innings against Zimbabwe I was inspired to start hitting people who I knew could not hit me back as hard.

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What can you do with Matty Hayden?

It seems like Matty Hayden is now selling theme park tickets to the kiwis.

Sportreview doesn’t like this, you can read all about why he doesn’t like it here, but the gist is, he thinks it is a bit shit and he’d like to take the piss.

So, his competition is to see what you can photoshop in behind Hayden to properly take the piss.

According to the rules, “Points will be awarded for 1. being funny and 2. making Hayden look like a twat.”

And then you can send in your work to richard (at) sportreview dot net dot nz and if he likes it he’ll put it on his website.

There is a prize, an equally shit DVD no one has ever heard of.

I want this DVD, so here is my entry.

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Oh, FFS, Cricinfo!

I wasn’t going to write anything this evening. I wasn’t even going to turn a computer on. I have more important things to worry about, such as:

My wife is out with a girl she has already described as ‘cute’, and I have an overactive imagination;

I’m supposed to be co-writing something with a workaholic, I’ve written jack shit for the last 5 days and I’m worried he might come for me with a sharpened pencil;

My t-shirt drawer needs rearranging, because I’m not sure if my ‘SuperFred’ shirt is still wearable or not.

But then I made the mistake of turning on ESPN Classic and watching ‘Cricinfo’s Top Ten Most Hated Australians’, and it made my blood boil.

I hasten to add that this is not because it featured Cricinfo’s own Andrew Milller, who I feel sorry for because ESPN always contrive to make him seem like he just got off the special bus (I know he hasn’t, because the aforementioned cute girl is one of his friends).

It’s not even because of the presenter, who is one of those instantly dislikable people that you feel obliged to punch at least once per syllable. (I’m not naming him. I object to him having the oxygen of oxygen, let alone that of publicity).

I think the main issue stems from simply not being able to take anything in once you realise the person speaking is dislikeable. Once you’ve got problems with whoever’s offering information on a subject, it tends to slide off you as easily as a wicket through bacon grease.
Some people tend to refer to statistics and their own experience when looking at cricket as a sport. I’m sure it works for http://www.partybets.com/ users, but for me I prefer to kick back, relax, and see what others have to say as well as myself. Like I said earlier, though, it wasn’t the presenter that was the major problem.

It’s because the entire show was so fucking wrongheaded it wasn’t true. Haydos at number one? Come on! In the imaginations of one or two hacks, maybe, but most England fans couldn’t give a toss about the bible-bashing, barbeque-basting big guy. He was just one more Aussie to get rid of, a little bit obnoxious maybe, but nothing more.

Ditto Merv at number two. Only the truly brain dead saw him as anything other than a comedy villan. He was a decent bowler who had the odd good day, but ultimately was known more for his tache and ability to swear than as a cricketer.

Steve Waugh bored the pants off us, both on and off the pitch. Warne we feared, not hated – we may not have approved of his private life, but we all wanted to see him bowl. And Greg Chappell was lucky to even be in there, given that you seemed to need to have been seen on colour tv to be considered at all.

The real howler, though – the mistake that devalued the entire show – was having Border down at number 9. We hated AB in England, hated him with a passion Warne could only dream off. He was arrogant, obnoxious, a man who frequently seemed to go against the spirit of cricket. You won’t find anyone who laughed harder than I did when he was bowled by Richard Ellison on that glorious August evening in 1985. And yet he could bat you out of a game with ease, even when playing in one of the most talentless Aussie sides in history. God, he was annoying.

The show also lacked some of the other real hate figures from the past. Where was Chappelli? Bradman? Boon, even? If this was supposed to be the ten we hated, I dread to think who they think we might have liked.

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Dear Haydos

Dear Matthew Hayden,

Thank you for giving up your precious family time to come over here and earn a shedload of money at the British licence fee payers’ expense.

Thank you for your continual winding up of Geoff Boycott, it makes us feel good to know that it is not only us who think he is an insufferably self important twat.

Thank you for your insights into the game we love. Your story about being in the middle with JL and hearing your daughter scream in the stands because she had fallen over was genuinely moving.

But if you are going to pontificate all over the airwaves, at least learn the freaking laws of cricket. The reason that Hawkeye can predict the flight of a ball after it has made contact with a batsman’s leg is that the law says that an umpire should assume that the ball will continue in a straight line from the point of impact. So whether a ball is swinging, or rising, or dipping, doesn’t matter. If the ball is moving left to right, Hawkeye draws a line of the flight that the ball would’ve taken, irrespective of the chances of it swinging a bit more, dropping like a stone, or being pushed off course by a particularly strong bee. It does this because the umpire performs the same mental exercise. If it looks out to the umpire and it looks out to Hawkeye, the fact that you don’t think it was out is (a) irrelevant and (b) the minority view anyway. So shut up whinging about the technology and get back to what you do best – Boycott baiting.

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the late night chat

Matty sleeps in his bed, beside him is his Andrew Symond’s approved wife.

A large beam of unexplainable light wakes him, but not the little lady.

matty tries to adjust his eyes to it, but it is just too bright, eventually a shadowy figure emerges, he cannot see a face, but the profile is familiar.

It is one he has seen in every church he has ever been in.

Matty: Jesus?

Jesus: That’s me.

Matty is instantly calmed by the dulcet tones, which leads him to believe this must be Jesus.

Matty: Why are you here?

Jesus: I came to talk to you about your career, your legacy, and your future.

Matty sits up in the bed.

Matty: Oh thank you, I did it all in your name.

Jesus stretches his neck a little at this.

Jesus: Yesssss, that is the problem, you see people do a lot of things in my name, murder doctors, start wars, ignore the genius of Nine Inch Nails, and hate gays, even the entreating ones, and I let it all go through to the keeper.

Matty nods.

Jesus: The thing is, none of that really bothers me, but your behaviour, the bullying, the sledging, the cookbooks, and the righteousness really pissed me off.

Matty: But I just wanted to win cricket games, and sell some books.

Jesus: I know man, don’t get me wrong, you are successful; it’s just that a lot of people don’t like you, and you say you like me.

Matty: I just played hard, but fair.

Jesus pauses, and lets out a small sigh.

Jesus: Obnoxious weed, all that Graeme Smith stuff, Zimbabwe, appearing on Stuey’s show, that was pretty embarrassing to me.

Matty: That wasn’t just me; Harbhajan is an obnoxious weed, why aren’t you speaking to him.

Jesus: He is out of my jurisdiction. Anyway this is about anyone else, this is about you, and a way you can save my name and redeem yourself.

Matty looks confused.

Matty: o….k

Jesus: It’s like this; I’d like you to come out against sledging.

Matty: No way.

Jesus: Way.

Matty is quiet for a minute, and then shakes his head a little.

Matty: I don’t think I can do that.

Jesus: Fair enough, its not like I am your lord and saviour or anything, I didn’t die for your sins now, or anything like that.

Matty holds up his hand.

Matty: Ok ok, it is just that this sounds a bit Un-Australian to me.

Jesus: It is Un-Australian.

Matty: Well I am Australian, and it is hard to go against my own people.

Jesus: Yes, yes, but I am Jesus, I mean for fucks sake, man, Jesus.

Matty holds up his bad in the style of the international “my bad” way.

Matty: You’re right.

Jesus: So it’s a deal.

Matty nods.

Jesus: Shake on it.

Matty and Jesus both lean in for the handshake, and for the first time Matty can get a good look at Jesus’ face.

Matty: You’re not white.

Jesus: I never said I was.

Matty: Sorry, I didn’t mean to offend; it’s just that I thought you would be.

Jesus: Your mistake.

Matty: Where are you from?

Jesus puts on a shit eating grin.

Jesus: I’m the Son of God, remember, it’s in the books.

Matty: Yeah but what race are you, like where was your mum from?

Jesus: India.

Matty: No fucken way.

Jesus: Way.

Matty just sites there shaking.

Jesus: Bet you feel like a dickhead now, dontcha?

Matty: My whole life, my life, my whole life….

Jesus laughs at Matty, and then turns to leave the room.

Jesus: Jeez I love my job.

And Jesus was gone.

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Foxsport digs up the dead

All the current Australian players are complete shit. None of them are worth a turd in hell.  They might as well be dropped, castrated, and made to dance for coins.


Luckily foxsports is on the case.

Like this time last year, the only way to fix the Australian team is by picking ex players who are performing in the IPL.

Last year it was Shane Warne and Adam Gilchrist, this year Matthew Hayden has been added to the list.

It seems that if the Australian team fails, the only way forward is back.

Look at all the runs Gilly is making, never mind his keeping.

Haydos is smashing the ball everywhere, forget his form in 2008.

And Shane Warne is still killing everyone, who cares that he doesn’t really want to come back.

Articles about how great these guys are doing in a semi domestic league are counter productive and tinged with bullshit.

Yes Hayden is making runs, but he has the weight of failing for Australia taken off his shoulders, he is facing 3rd and 4th string Indian bowlers in most of the attacks and it’s an Entertainment league

It has a scheduled ad break for fucks sake.

I am glad the old Australians are doing well, like I was that Ian Harvey was the player of the tournament in the ICL, and that Michael DiVenuto continues to kill in County cricket.

Not sure I want any of them to come back though.

This was the same tournament that Shane Watson dominated so much last year it could have been renamed in his honour.

Hayden, Gilchrist and Warne have all been warriors for Australia, but lets not compare the new breed to them, lets just let them play.

Let the dead be the dead.

We will remember them, no need to reanimate them.

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Dirty Dirk’s difficult second match

The big fella has the new ball.

Matthew Hayden, he used to play for Australia, is out there with an under 12 player.

Dirk and Haydos have more masculinity than most rugby sides.

What will happen?

Dirk is smiling, he steams in first ball at 148 clicks, and Partiv just frightens it to midwicket.

Another one slams into the bat, Partiv decides he must get off strike and he steals a single.

Here it is mother fuckers, DIRK V JESUS.

Jesus runs down the wicket and slogs at DIrk, its in the air, crickets renaissance man, AB,  is under it, he’s following it and following it, and he has fucken dropped it.

Dirk is fired up next one is 148 again and Jesus misses it.

Dirk thinks he is going to bring down the son of God now and fires one in and Jesus rides the luck of the holy goat and inside edges it for 4.

Heartbreak for our hero.

The last ball Dirk has nothing left and Jesus smites it from his vision for 4.

Great over from Dirk, and it went for 11, Jesus wins.

Come to think of it AB is a born again Christian, he probably dropped him on purpose.

Dirk is back for another go, this time to the twelve year old and almost takes his throat out first nut, quick, firery and sexy.

Next one is a ball tearing yorker, Partiv seems to have no idea where the ball is, but he gets it out, and Jesus takes the strike. same as last over.

Yet again Jesus comes straight after our Dirk, he doesn’t quite get it, but he forearms it through midwicket.

Jesus just slogs at this one, he beats cover but has mothing behind it and only gets two.

Dirk needs to grunt this one, and he does, short, fast, hostile, but it just limp dicks it to nowhere, Dirk wins the battle, but scowls at life for the ball not carrying to a fielder.

The twelve year old just bunts one for a single.

Dirk is unrewarded again, but he is breathing fire.

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Old Dogs

Prince Brendon may have started last years IPL with a full frontal assualt on the crowd, but this year the old dudes and an untouchable dog started us off.

Sachin chipped away a 50 odd.

Hayden followed that up by top scoring for the sooper dooper kings.

Next game the old guys really came out.

Rahul (still not a 2020 player, but still classy when his team is falling apart) top scored and pretty much kept Bangalore from collapse.

Warne was probing like a motherfucker too, some of his balls wouldn’t have looked out of place in his best of.

Anil didn’t like being overshadowed and popped in with 5 wickets as the tail fell apart.

The cricket was scrappy, there was always something in it for the bowlers, a great collapse by last year’s champsions and a leg spin master class.

It was a proper cricket day, with 10 minute ad breaks.

Jesse looks hot in red as well.

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The IPL Ad Break- Brought to you buy Pepsi, DLF, and Lalit Modi’s smile.

Frankly I am shocked.

I thought the IPL was a principled cricket league that believed in more than just the money.

Ok no one will say that.

The powers that Bcci, are just not content with merely adding advertising to the commentary, they have decided to add a 7.5 minute ad break to each innings.

L Ron (Big Al Stanford) must be pissed he never thought of his.

The over rates in last years IPL were dreadful, a supposed 3 hour game pushed to 4 repeatedly, can’t see how adding an ad’s break will speed that up.

Probably wont be good for the hamstrings on the older players either, 7 and a half minutes standing around in that brisk autumn air, and then diving for a ball at mid wicket.

But if the do tear a hamstring, the IPL can then superimpose an ad for deep heat onto the hamstring during the replays.

Hopefully the time will be used wisely, 5 minutes of advertising followed by a public service announcement about the health problems cricketers can face when they share boxes.

There are still several advertising options the IPL hasn’t thought of.

The best would would be giving players a name sponsor.

SMS datechat Shane Warne sends one down.

DC Comics Gatuam Gambhir is looking super today.

That is a huge one from Viagra’s Chris Gayle.

What a rip snorter from Columbia’s Shoaib Ahktar.

A divine shot from Catholic Church Matthew Hayden.

See, Lalit, you can do way more.

You can even put sticky take on the players faces, although some players do that for free.

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How did it end?

Well it was pitched near the crack, and he tried to slog it over mid on.

Was it ugly?

Yeah, but he kept his head down, and at least it was an attacking shot.

What now?

He will go off to make cook books and do lifestyle shows with Stuart MacGill.

Is that a fate worse than death?



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