I spent the remainder of my Friday night drinking Melbourne Bitter longnecks while watching professional darts players duke it out on TV. It’s strangely mesmerising watching two overweight, clammy, pasty Englishmen with questionable facial hair, disgusting oversized short-sleeve shirts covered with sponsors logos and eyes set so deep in their heads that you would be within your rights to mistake them for monkeys battle it out against each other on a brightly-lit stage while hundreds of people watch on from the sidelines, cheering and drinking jugs of beer. Seriously, I was watching some competition on Foxtel tonight and there were literally hundreds of people crammed into the hall hosting the event. They all looked as if they’d been drinking for 12 hours. Every now and again one of the dart-throwing behemoths would hit 3 triple-20s in a row and a bunch of pissed Englishmen would hold up signs with ‘180’ written on them. I’m assuming that’s good.

I honestly can’t believe that Foxtel broadcast darts. It’s not really a real sport, is it? I mean, I’m sure the sponsors love the fact that the darts players are all fat bastards, as it gives them more space on their shirts for advertising (the fatter the better, really), but it’s not as if they’re well-tuned machines out there, is it? There was apparently some outrage recently when players were banned from drinking on stage (they used to be able to shift pints to their hearts content…) It’s all about making the sport more professional, I guess.

Several years ago one of my mates started what has now become a tradition. Once a year, men gather on a cricket pitch to vie against each other in a 20/20 game of cricket. Today at 2.30pm marks the third annual game, and is sure to bring with it some patently awful displays of cricketing prowess. Although I played cricket for 6 or 7 years, I hate no sport more. I guess it has something to do with the fact that I’m plainly fucking awful at it. Due to a confusing case of ambiguous ambidexterity as a child, I used to bat right-handed but bowl left-handed. My bowling action was likened to what a frog would look like if you were to put it in a blender. My skills as a batsmen were quite average too, which meant that I spent a large majority of my Saturdays as a child fielding at fine leg, watching people far better than me play cricket as I got a terrible sunburn.

It’s a stupid fucking game, really.

/end communication

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