Quote of the Week

"Get down, down on the ground!"
Al Koolhof's new Tourette's Syndrome style wicket celebration.....

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Pres & Coach rant

Updated October 15th, 2007

Curly's Corner ...... social

Can't bat, can't bowl, can't field? Join the Club mate!! Dunno fine leg from Fine Cotton? Well, kampai cobba, c'mon in! There's more to being a Tokyo Wombat than disgracing yourself on the cricket field.......
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Golden Thong ...... Z-file

Match Reports

Pup Ainslie briefly stopped talking about himself and let his actions do the talking! The crow-eater castled two tailenders and flayed 45 runs to win this week's Hardys' Man of the Match!
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Check out the players and members that make the Wombats 'The Wombats'. Some true blue characters buried in amoungst the group and it's a good laugh to be had. Some of the character traits are ...... you better have a look for yourself.
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With what started from taking a quick trip down to the shops on the pushy to pick up a carton of milk all went horribly wrong when my brother took a wrong corner and now 25 000kms over a stretch of 18 months in a monster bicycle tour around Australia...

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Place to keep in contact with wandering Wombats and perhaps meet up with a returnee.

AXE'S BIKE TALE (July 2007)

With what started from taking a quick trip down to the shops on the pushy to pick up a carton of milk all went horribly wrong when my brother took a wrong corner and now 25 000kms over a stretch of 18 months in a monster bicycle tour around Australia, he has become the first person ever to reach the 7 most extremes of Australia - the most southerly, northerly, easterly, westerly, highest and lowest, and the geographical centre of australia - the first person mad enough to ever do so on a pushbike. He`s trying to get people out of their cars and onto their pushy`s when they head off to work - if you`re interested in reading a bit more, check out his website www.ozbybike.com

I had a quick couple of weeks with him around Kangaroo island where we knocked up 440kms on the pushys, saw seals, kangaroos, wallabies, koalas, wedgetailed eagles, sea eagles, cape barren geese, sheep, cows, inbred locals, drop bears and the occasional hoopsnake. Saw some amazing scenery, faced 50 knot winds, got poured on from a great height, baked by the sun, covered in 5 day old sweat, stuffed my knee, but at the end of the day - nothing that isnt funny with a few beers. here are the pix - Tour Photos

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CURLY'S MIDDLE EAST ADVENTURE - Part 1 (Nov 2005 to Jan 2006)

>>>Curly's pics from Pakistan, Turkey, Iran and Syria

Never ending journeys along corrugated roads on battered, rusted buses, with broken seats, broken windows and broken suspension. While this might have been the reality in Pakistan, since then it has been pretty plain sailing. So far, we have been to 5 countries, with just Jordan and Egypt to go.

1 truck, 1 ferry, 2 trains and 30-odd taxis and buses have taken us about 12,000kms from Lahore to Istanbul and now south towards the Red Sea and Egpyt. Total time in transit: 205 hours.We have visited some amazing sights, walked 30 minutes across a frozen border in minus 15 degree temperatures, and sweated in the stands of Multan's Cricket Stadium. By and large the people have been great to us, helping us out whenever they could. The trip hasn't been without hitches. The biggest no doubt was having to grab our gear and run as fire bellowed out of the dunnies of our hotel! No harm done, just a bit of extra washing to do.

Rather than explain the beauty of these places, or the feeling of calm that comes across when you enter a mosque, I'll give it to you in a format that is easy for the Wombats to understand: The Highlights.

WORST ROADS/BUSES: Pakistan. See above, then add an extra row of seats down the aisle, a broken air-con, a baby throwing up, and a driver that insists on playing his favourite tunes at 2am. 12, 14 hours of it.

BEST HOSPITALITY: Pakistan. Every where we went people wanted to buy us tea, say hello. In restaurants, owners would refuse to take money, as would bus conductors. At the cricket, we were given VIP treatment, including free lunches, drinks and our own personal security detail. Where else can you ge a free meal by being from the same country as David Boon?

BIGGEST WASTE OF MONEY: Lonely Planet Persian Phrase Book. Impossible to search, badly organised, and with useful phrases like "Can we have a high chair for the baby?" The way people looked at me when they read the choice phrases, it seemed the words were as out dated as saying,"my good man, launder my pantalons!"

BEST FOOD: Turkey, in a photo finish from Syria. Fresh vegetables, spicy meat dishes, stews, soups....variety and quality, 2 things we had been missing so much in Iran.

BEST SCENERY: Eastern Turkey. Snow capped mountains and mountain ranges that seemed to roll on forever. Clear water lakes, green fields, traditional villages. Day after day was spent in stunning scenery. But bloody cold!

WORST CITY: Tehran. Think the Saikyo-line isn't crowded enough? Then try the Tehran subway. Twice the number you'd get on a J-train! Expensive, bad food, bad hotels, a minimum of attractions and pollution, Tehran had it all.

BEST CITY: Istanbul. A huge choice of restaurants, a compact and colourful historic quarter, some of the worlds greatest religious buildings. The setting is second to none, a river seperating Europe from Asia, and hills coming down to the sea. Downside? Expensive.

MOST MOVING PLACE: Not Gallipoli. but the city of Bam, Iran. Almost completly destroyed by an earthquake 2 years ago which left 100,000 dead. The city is still in ruins, house after house, suburb after suburb gone. People living in houses which consisted of just one wall.

THE CHIANG MAI REPORT (Mar/Apr-2005)

The ultimate cricket destination? A Test series in the Carribean? An Ashes Tour? No, Thailand's Chiang Mai Sixes! Held annually in April, it is the Grand-daddy of the now popular Sixes comps running from Morocco to Newcastle to Shanghai. This year Tokyo Wombats became the first Japanese club to compete at this great event.

Eight of us made the journey. Included in our party was long-lost Wombat Marty; Shrek, a daiquiri destroying Canadian 'tour manager'; Paul, well and truely retired from cricket, plus the more mundane Wombats, NIKKA, Reggie, Dino, Zulu and Curly.

The organization of the tournament is meticulous. The standard runs the full parameter of abilities, from mug to weekend warrior to Test playing internationals. The atmosphere is first class throughout, and the players, no matter who they are or where they are from, are an easy going bunch there to enjoy their favourite game.

The ground is superb, in the middle of the 19th century Gymkhana Club golf course, complete with sight-screens, scoreboard, nets, trees, 2 bars, hammocks and team tents. No bicycle paths or searching through weeds here! Only 40 minutes a day was spent in mortal combat. OK, we spent a bit of time in the nets, and warming up. Most of the time was spent under cover at the tent watching the games, enjoying the food on offer, or gossiping away at the bar.

Perhaps NIKKA's comments sum it up best: "having a beer with world-class cricketers after getting smashed around the ground by them. It was a week of comradeship both from teammates and opposition. The enjoyment of being with your mates, consistent lack of sleep, and just knowing what ever you`ve got planned both day and night will be a top laugh."

While the cricket was competitive and our reason for being there, it was the socializing that made the week. Drinking with your opposition is mandatory, and a few minutes after the pads are off, teams meet at The Boundary Bar, buy each other drinks and have a laugh. Most of the people we met were genuinely interested in Japanese cricket, and often had similar tales from their own cricketing frontiers. No egos here, even the international stars are just regular blokes here, and several times I didn't realise that some guy I was talking to had represented his country before!

Having helped secure the Wombats invitation, Paul Knighton pulled on the whites for the first time in a quarter century. Sending down our first over was a highlight for him: "Bowling our best figures (as I recall it anyway) against a 1992 World Cup winner! If I'd known who he was I would have bottled it probably!"

Seeing Marty afer 18 months on the Goldie was a treat, as was his bowling, and he soon became the Wombats Dr Death, after closing out with 2 wickets in 2 balls v Bahrain. He was also able to add some valueble runs throughout, until that monster bruise took its toll! Two quick wickets caught the injured wommie off guard, and few will forget the sight of him pulling his shirt on as he walked out needing 13 with 3 balls to go. To top it off, he got a single, which allowed NIKKA to bitch-slap a six and put victory within reach. (A second bitch slap fell metres short of the required six.)

We came through a tough group with just one win, but importantly a lot of respect. Reggie's running, rolling gather on the boundary in our elimination game typified the fight we showed. Zulu and NIKKA keeled over, huffing, puffing and almost hurling after running 5 was another highlight. Dino, after bagging our first duck, belted some big runs, and his running love-hate relationship with on ground commentator Rick will live on for years to come.

But most of our respect was won on the Pig Picking Night, when we all donned the yukatas. Marty even got up and sang the 'Sukiyaki Song'. The yukatas stayed on all night and we made quite a sight running round Chiang Mai. Paul's comments however can't be ignored, "Woofta Aussies who ALL wore something UNDER the yukata .. having all sworn the opposite!"

Unfortunately we had to speed back to work and missed the Closing Party. Paul was there for us, though. "The closing dinner was a hoot. Rick entertained with a long run through of the week - all the usual thank-yous etc., then a warm welcome to the new teams. I felt the Wombats were deliberately saved till last and given special kudos. Your plane flew over right in the middle of this! Obviously we were remembered best for our off the park activities although it was commented on what a tough group we'd been drawn in."

Our DVD has arrived incomplete, but within a week or two (Thai time!) we will have all 5 games and be screening them at The Clubhouse. Should refresh some foggy memories, as well as inspire the rest of you to make it in 2006.

CRICKET, CURLY and MUMBAI (2004)

It might have taken me ten years longer than planned, but finally I made it to India. 35 years of waiting also came to an end for Australian cricket, when they wrapped up the series in Nagpur....meaning I was flying off to a dead rubber.

Enough has been said in the media about the pitch, the result and our batting in Mumbai. Rain on the first day reduced play to just 40 minutes, which was enough time for India to lose 2 wickets. That resulted in mile long queues on Day Two, as everyone hoped to see local hero Sachin Tendulkar come to the rescue. When word of his dismissal spread, the queues disappeared and half of Mumbai trudged off to work.

Inside the ground, the crowd let the Aussies have it, with some orignal chants such as "AUSSIE SUCKS", "JASON IS A BASTARD", or my favourite, which sounded something like "Plinky, plinky plonky, Martyn is a donkey." Adam Gilchrist picked up an imaginary Border-Gavaskar Trophy and held it aloft to silence the crowds.

Other highlights included Justin Langer's playing kick to kick during the rain stoppages, several thousand people singing "Happy Birthday" to one of the Aussie supporters, the Sachin Tendulkar look-alike getting more cheers than the real one, and some Indian kid running around with a stuffed kangaroo on his shoulders. Hedging his bets, perhaps?

One thing the crowd couldn't do was a Mexican Wave (which, being old and grumpy I believe belongs at the pyjama cricket....). Two bays would all stand up together, and no-one would follow suit. For two days this went on (like the match), but in the final session they finally got it going (like India). Round and round it went, gathering speed with each lap, circling the stadium in a break-neck 6 seconds!

Loud? How loud can you imagine? It still doesn't even come close! When the Aussie wickets began tumbling in the fourth innings, Wankhede Stadium erupted. By now a full house of 50,000+ had crammed into the furnace, and were making the place shake as they jumped up and down and shouted.

Whistles, drums, horns, "AUSSIE SUCKS" ringing in your ears as batsman after batsman threw his wicket away Dizzy, Hauritz and Kaspo put the celebrations on hold, but when McGrath strode to the crease it was on for young and old. They were still celebrating the 9th wicket by the time Pigeon had got out. Somehow our lame batting had manufactured one of the more memorable Test results, and the atmosphere during that one session alone was worth the airfare.

The streets of Mumbai around the ground echoed with "93! 93!" (our score) as the local fans took some delight from the end to the series.

The constant honking of horns is the one sound I'll always associate with Mumbai. As in most parts of Asia, the horn and not the breaks is the preferred method of avoiding an accident, and here, an overcrowded city of 20 million it is taken to extremes. Thousands of black and yellow 1950s style taxis compete with double decker buses, scooters and the occaisonal cow for a piece of the road. Amazingly, I didn't see one accident.

I jumped into one those taxis and headed to the Metro Cinema, where I had heard the sports shops could be found. Apparently they had been doing a brisk trade as plenty of the other Aussies had the same idea. First shop I tried had sold out of the SG Test balls we Wombats use. It would have been easy to pick up half a dozen bats, as I'm sure some did. I put the breaks on after buying just a dozen balls, one hockey stick (Y1600), one MRF (Y6000) and cheapie bat (Y400) for my mate's son. I can still picture another 3 or 4 I wish I'd bought.

The tucker was first rate. From the cheapie 'thali' curry shop, where a set plate costs Y50 to the flash buffet where lunch for 3 cost Y1500, I don't think I put a gastronomic foot wrong. The veg biryani at the cricket was a stand out, and it was interesting to see a dozen other Aussies take the plunge once I had acted as guinea pig! And not one attack of the infamous Delhi Belly the whole time.

The old seaside district reminded me of St Kilda, with its art-deco buildings, broad boulevards and palm trees. Not as many down and outs as St Kilda though. There you find the maginficent Taj Mahal Hotel, facing the Gateway Of India, built to commemorate the arrival of some Pommie king yonks ago. Back away past the museums and dozens of other classic colonial buildings is The Oval. A large green lung in the centre of a hot, dirty town, The Oval is naturally a cricket haven. Dozens of tennis ball games go on side by side and back to back, with balls criss-crossing several 'fields'. Unlike Wankhede, the council does maintain 'proper' pitches for the use of the wealthier schools.

I was sitting with a group of aspiring Tendulkars, Under-13s perhaps, as they waited for their turn to bat at training. Wombats' cap proudly on my head, I turned to watch some older boys in fielding drills.

"Sir?" a young voice from behind me enquired. "Your name is...Curly?"(If you are thinking of joining the Aussies on tour, please check out Luke Gillian's http://www.wavingtheflag.com . Ticket only and hotel packs usually available for the tour group respected most by our Test cricketers. They even came to our welcome party!) >>> pictures.

BIRD'S DIARY (2004) - At 6:30 in the morning of the fifth of Feburary I was up and about with one mission in mind, find our passports (having left them with one of the numerous travel companies on Koh San road the day before to get our Cambodian visas). Once they were located (half an hour walking up and down Koh San road looking for a man with a twitch on a motorbike)it was back to the guesthouse to get packed up before jumping on a bus to Trat.

After a very pleasant bus ride it was a short hop ,on a ferry, over to Koh Chang. By the time we arrived at Lonely beach and checked into our free bungalow for the night (score!) - and James had eaten, nerves or hunger who can tell - the sun was setting. We sat on the beach with the sun setting in the background and the waves gently lapping at the white sand shore. I leaned over and said something very romantic which culminatated with me unfolding my hand to reveal a white gold diamond ring and asking Ruth to marry me. A very shocked and happy Ruth said yes!!. I will post pictures of the happy couple soon. Hopefully by now we have contacted all of you to let you know our happy news, sorry it has taken so long but communications on Koh Chang were virtually non-existant or hugely over-priced. Thanks for all the congratulatory messages that people have sent, it has meant a lot to us. BIRD's roving diary