Boxing Day Test 2010- Day 1

Here is my match report from Day 1 of the Boxing Day test match 2010. It's rather long...

Day 1

Umpires Tony Hill 
And Aleem Dar

It was fitting that while this test match began on Boxing Day in Australia it was still Christmas Day in England; for it was the English who received all the presents on the day. From the very outset they seemed to have the luck of the season on their side. Strauss won the toss and did not hesitate to insert his antipodean rivals. While all the talk had been about the composition of the Australian team, it was the English who tinkered with their side. The supposedly tired Finn made way for Bresnan, whose batting skills surely gave him the edge in a side coming off two batting failures. The Australian decision to retain a four-pronged pace attack would have surely been vindicated by the pitch and conditions, had the toss gone their way. But it was a day where everything went England’s way. 

Pietersen Reflects On
A Dropped Catch

The weather came to the party for Strauss’ men; cloud cover and humidity provided enough movement in the air for the English to evoke memories of their motherland. The Australians never looked settled at the wicket, while the English bowlers eased into their work with little fuss. Anderson swung his stock delivery away from the right-hander, occasionally pushing one the other way to good effect. While his control and direction were excellent, for probably the only time that day, luck was not on his side. Two sharp catches went down in the slips, one high and one low; these were some of the only blemishes against the English fielding during the day, and in fact the tour. Throughout the innings, the bowlers consistently kept the ball full, exacting the most assistance from the conditions. On a couple of occasions the ball was dragged down and put away by the batsmen; the bowlers learned well from this and returned quickly to their full line. 

Strauss Eyes His Opposite

Tremlett’s height necessitated a slightly shorter line, into which he settled with consummate ease until the breakthrough came. Watson received a delivery which climbed off a good length and took the shoulder of his bat. He could but watch helplessly as the ball looped to Pietersen in the gully, who redeemed his earlier sins by completing a much more straightforward catch. Watson, who throughout the series had seemed the only level head in the troubled top four, was gone with only 15 runs on the board. The loss of an early wicket was not unfamiliar to the Australian crowd, however. The colosseum-like venue soon resonated with juxtaposed cheers and boos as Ricky Ponting strode to the crease. The man much-loved by his home faithful, and hated as strongly, if not more, by most others, put aside all the talk of pinkies and sackings as he took up his familiar position on the centre stage. 

Hughes, who had looked in good form when cracking two deliveries in Tremlett’s first over through the infield, was tied up by the tight line and length of the bowling. The sun came out for a brief while, during which Ponting and Hughes slowly battled away. The English were quick to turn to the Decision Review system when they were convinced a ball had deflected of Hughes’ bat, rather than his thigh guard; unfortunately for them, it was the latter. Ponting looked the goods when he latched onto two pull strokes in quick succession. Hughes however did not seem to have adjusted to the pace of the game and in trying to force a wide ball from Bresnan through point, ended up guiding a dolly into the hands of the gully fieldsman, once again Pietersen. 

Disappointment For The Skipper

Ponting soon after received a wonderful ball from Tremlett; it was just short of a length, but forced the batsman into a stroke; it angled in towards Ponting, but seamed away just enough to take the edge high up on the angled bat. With Ponting as usual pushing hard at the ball early on, it flew high into the slips, where Swann acrobatically pouched a diving catch. Ponting’s disappointment was tangible in his crestfallen reaction; he stood almost incredulous, staring at the pitch for several seconds, before slowly trudging off the field and straight down the tunnel. The dismay of the Australian captain was reflected in the muted and mournful faces of his compatriots in the crowd, and contrasted by the absolute exuberance of the visiting fans. 

This left two Michaels at the crease, Clarke and Hussey, both fresh and unused to the pitch. They applied themselves to the task and looked as secure as any batsman in the first session; it was demonstrative of how precious Hussey’s wicket was to the English that they sacrificed their one remaining review on an LBW shout clearly going over the stumps. Australians hoped Fate would punish them for such audacity, but Fate proudly donned the St George’s cross for the day. Just before lunch the clouds rolled over and Strauss produced a masterful stroke of captaincy, bringing Anderson back into the attack. On the stroke of the interval, Anderson pushed one across the left-handed Hussey. The ball clipped the outside of his languid push and England had the wicket for which they had previously toiled so hard to earn. Four of the top five bastmen were back in the dressing room, with fewer than fifty runs on the board. Fittingly, the heavens opened and play ended shortly before the scheduled start of the luncheon interval. 

Strauss Sets His Sights On Clarke

Though the showers abated during the interval, they returned as play was set to recommence, and a lengthy delay ensued. Hopes were that the Australians would have time to regroup and refocus, but when play finally restarted, it was the English who were on form. Smith, who had yet to convince pundits of his ability, failed to get going and was caught behind pushing at another ball. The similarity of the dismissals was becoming striking. Haddin’s arrival at the crease did not provide the tonic needed for the shaky innings, despite his previous good form. On the contrary, he arrived playing far too many strokes and never looked settled. Anderson continued to impress and soon both Clarke and Haddin were out to flashy strokes playing away from the body. Clarke had made 20, which was to prove the high score of the innings; his dismissal was characteristic of much of the Australian batting: caught on the crease, unsure whether to play, a weak prod of the bat far away from his half-stride causing him to overbalance, followed by the tell-tale look behind at the ball as it settled in the ‘keepers gloves. 

Johnson’s innings never got going, the victim of another excellent delivery going across the left-hander and catching the edge. The remaining tail-enders battled without any real application, hoping merely to gain some bonus runs and possibly sneak the total past a hundred. Siddle, the local man, thrilled the crowd with a few bold strokes before falling victim to his own audacity. Harris, who struggled to middle anything at the outset, finally managed to reach the boundary, if only through the slips. With the team’s century in sight, the struggling Hilfenhaus gave Prior his sixth catch of the innings and Tremlett his fourth wicket. His duck saw Ponting’s men fall for 98, their lowest score at the MCG against England and a morale-destroying number for their precarious bid to reclaim the Ashes. 

Blue Skies Appear On Cue

In a scarcely believable few hours, the Australians’ hopes of setting up a series-deciding contest in Sydney had been reduced to those of managing to salvage a draw out of a game already slipping out of their reach. Their only hope was to emulate the English bowlers’ performances and set the game back on level terms. This was made immediately more difficult when, as if on cue, the sun burst through the clouds as the English openers strode out to bat. At once the lively pitch, which the Australians had made seem a minefield, became a batsman’s paradise. Ponting’s hand was forced somewhat by the small total; his fields were very attacking and provided the English openers with ample opportunities for scoring. Cook and Strauss set about applying themselves with dogged determination. 

Hilfenhaus’ series to date had not proved fruitful; a general lack of swing seemed to be at least symptomatic of his poor results, if not causal. This innings was no different; whether he would have swung the ball had the Australians bowled first is simply an academic question. Suffice it to say, he did not trouble the in-form openers who had been such pivotal cornerstones of England’s previous batting efforts in the series. Harris was not as venomous as he had seemed at the WACA ground, while Siddle was lively but not incisive. Johnson’s introduction to the bowling crease was a release for the batting side, helping to get the runs flowing. Ironic cheers greeted a wide delivery which a diving Haddin could not lay a glove on, accompanied by surprised comments at the signalling of byes by those unfamiliar with the intricacies of umpiring. 

The English Captain Reamined Resolute 

Strauss was out of the blocks early unleashing some elegant drives, before Cook unfurled some fierce cuts and pulls to catch up. The two batsmen drew level on 34 runs, but while Cook pushed on and punished the demoralised bowlers, Strauss became bogged down and his runs dried up. Neither gave their wicket away, however, and they continued to frustrate the increasingly desperate hosts in the warm afternoon sun. As if to rub salt into the wound, Cook was adjudged LBW but almost mockingly referred the decision at once with a smile on his face, knowing it would show up an inside edge and earn him a reprieve. As it turned out, this was the closest the Australians would come to taking a wicket all afternoon. 

Due to earlier disruptions, the session became a three-hour marathon; the Melbourne heat sapped energy just as the steadfast batsmen sapped hope from Australian hearts. The crowd, hoped to be a record-breaker but well short due to the circumstances, began to give up hope as the players seemed to go through the motions as the day wound up. The English contingent was a multitude in transports of joy, but it seemed as though they were so astounded by the day’s events as to be incredulous, and surprisingly never quite reached full voice. It would take a few quiet moments away from the spectacle of the event to realise the full extent and implications of the day’s proceedings. With the Ashes on the line, the Australians were spinning towards a defeat which could shatter their cricketing dynasty for good.

Tour Diary: Day 6- 26/12/2010

G'daaaaay!

Boxing Day. The main event. This was the day I had been waiting for, and for some time at that. With 90,000 people expected to turn up that day, we thought it would be wise to get away nice and early and avoid the rush. So after an early start and a quick breakfast, we were on our way. I packed a backpack with assorted items that would come in handy during the day, but with one notable exception: something warm to wear. I was wearing my newly-acquired Australian test shirt, which isn’t designed to keep you very warm. The day was overcast and there was a chilly wind. I should have realised then that the signs were very ominous. 

The tram arrived at our station almost empty, which was lucky seeing that it was full by the time we left the next stop. This meant we were lucky enough to be amongst the few people sitting down, as the others were forced to stand, crammed in like sardines. The trip was short enough and it was only a brief walk to the stadium from the station. Outside we bought a programme, a newspaper and a couple of radio earpieces to listen to the commentary during the game. These were quite good although they played ads all the time, of which there were only about five that repeated endlessly, much to our annoyance. 

Hard And Fast

We had secured our tickets well in advance, so getting into the stadium didn’t take long. For the first day, our seats were down on the bottom level ad quite a long way back, so we were well shaded for the day. This would have been great on a warm Melbourne day, but it was cold, overcast Boxing Day this year. We had arrived about an hour before the start of play, so the players were out on the field warming up. I went down to the boundary’s edge, to get a better look at the field. I took photo upon photo of anything I could see, so much was I taken in by the atmosphere and the occasion. I soon discovered the camera could take a series of photos in quick succession, which looked pretty cool but filled up the memory much more quickly! My best shot of the morning was one of Tony Greig sticking his keys into the pitch. I wasn’t sure he actually put them in, until he admitted to it later that day on commentary. 

Somewhere In There Was The Toss

By the time the toss came around, the pitch was mobbed by a plethora of cricketers, commentators, officials and journalists, so much so that you couldn’t even see Messrs Ponting and Strauss when the coin went up. Luckily it was shown on the big screen, but when the news came through that England had won the toss, the huge roar from the Barmy Army drowned out the rest of the announcement so it was impossible to tell what Strauss had decided to do. It was soon clear though that England would be making the most of the muggy, cloudy conditions by bowling first. The warm-ups then became more focused; the Australian top order took throw downs, the English bowlers practised on a nearby strip. I eventually got bored of this and headed back to my seat. To my surprise I spotted one of my fellow Auckland umpires a few rows in front of me, and went and had a brief chat. I knew he was going to be at the game that day, but I hadn’t expected him to be just in front of me!

They Love Their Flags

Soon enough it was time for the pre-match ceremonies, which really just annoyed everyone who was waiting for the game to begin! There was a welcome by the local Aboriginal people, a couple of average renditions of the respective national anthems and of course all the little kiddies holding the players’ hands. Finally, all the podia, flags and munchkins disappeared and the Umpires strode out to the middle. The English team formed their customary huddle, while the Australian opening batsmen ritually touched their flag and did their stretching and skipping dance out to the middle. The tension was palpable as everyone drew a collective breath for what they knew would be a big day. And indeed it was to be the decisive day of the test and the series. 

Spot The Odd One Out!

Ponting Comes And Goes

I’m not going to go into detail as to what happened next; I wrote a match report for each day and I will post them along with this diary. Suffice it to say, the Aussies didn’t play well. Not by a long stretch of the imagination. I kept up my photo taking trend, although it distracted me somewhat from the actual game. I seemed to jinx Shane Watson by taking a progression of shots the exact ball he got out. It did make a cool gif though. Ponting came out to huge cheers and boos at the same time, and left not long after in a similar fashion, straight down the tunnel. 

Tony Hill Had The Right Idea

At Lunch we discussed how Australia would recover as usual, but it was not to be. Within two hours, the team was all out for a dismal 98 and hopes of winning back the Ashes were severely dented. It was pretty disappointing, especially given the hype of the occasion. The crowd never reached 90,000, a combination of poor weather and bad batting. I had high hopes of seeing a Ponting hundred that day, but in fact I didn’t get to see even the team make a hundred. On top of that, it was cold.  I didn’t have a jumper or jacket, so I was forced to wear an uncomfortable raincoat just for some respite. On top of everything else, it made the day just a little less enjoyable. 

Lawry Drives Through The Covers

During tea the local Victorians did something they do very well- celebrate fellow Victorians' being Victorian. Local cricket heroes Dean Jones and Bill Lawry were driven- yes, driven- around the ground to the rapturous applause of the adoring parochial crowd. The last session was an extended one, because the over rates had been slow. Almost on cue as the English openers walked out, the sun burst through the clouds. It seemed God was smiling on the poms that day! Cook and Strauss ground the Aussies further into the dust and it all became a bit demoralising. The Mexican waves started circling, the Barmy Army started singing and the beer cup snakes started to appear. You could tell the spectators were fed up. I decided to skip off early, before the rush of annoyed Australians leaving the stadium set in. 

As soon as I got back to the hotel, I ran myself a hot bath to try and thaw my poor frozen body. It did the trick and I was soon feeling much better. Things got even better when the Dr Who Christmas Special came on TV- something I had been looking forward to. We were lucky to get to see it so quickly, they still haven’t shown it on TV in New Zealand. I quite enjoyed watching it, so the disappointment of the day soon wore off. I then watched the movie Species, a pretty cool sci-fi film; in the end, it got a bit raunchy and I was pretty tired, so I turned it off and went to sleep. 

Wheely Tyred

It's been a wild week for me. Last Saturday saw the arrival of Cyclone #1 (Cyclone #2 is just showing up now) and with it went any chances of cricket on Sunday. Not that I was too unhappy about that! The weather was so bad, I didn't even have to bother showing up = staying in bed, watching movies = fun! Just the tonic for a rainy day in the middle of summer. Yes it was almost the exact middle of summer.

The Approaching Tide

Anyway, upon finally emerging from bed, the aftermath of Cyclone #1 was evident for all to behold. The house was leaking on the ground floor. Yes, there is a second floor. There were towels everywhere, and the odd strategically placed pot. A trip down the road to the video store supplied further evidence of the previous night's deluge. The bowl-shaped car park round the back was practically underwater. Luckily I managed to park in one of the only dry parks, although when the tide came up (yes, there was actually a tide) it reached the wheels. 

He's The Man

Soon another car came into the car park and proceeded to drive into the middle of the pool and stop. Then it drove off quickly, making a nice big splash. But obviously Mr. kid-trapped-in-an-adult's-body hadn't quite had his fill, so he backed up all the way to the entrance and drove through the water at full speed. You can imagine the rest. The water certainly got above the height of the car, which was dumb because it was a ute. I was disappointed though when he didn't come back for thirds, it was certainly quite a sight!

Anyway, come Monday morning the effects of Cyclone #1 were now barely visible, although it was still a pretty miserable day. As I was driving home that morning, I thought the car sounded a little poorly, but didn't take much more notice of it. In fact, I put some Meat Loaf on nice and loud so I didn't have to think about noises the car makes (the brakes squeak as if there are actual hamsters inside them being squished every time I press them). 

So I am happily driving along the motorway, when suddenly something doesn't feel right. The car is almost pulling at me and it won't accelerate past 80. I start to feel a little tense, thinking the engine might blow up at any second. My predilection with the engine in fact distracted my attention from the fact that my left rear tyre had just blown. The pull I felt was the drag on the vehicle as the tyre slowly disintegrated. The diagram below will help illustrate exactly how the events progressed from there.

At this stage (1) I have just passed under the Penrose Road bridge, coming up to the South Eastern Highway off-ramp. I start thinking I should get off the motorway, but I am in the middle lane and there is a bit of traffic around. So now (2) I look back for a gap, and instead see smoke coming out of the back of the car. My mind first thinks that it is on fire, but I soon realise that the engine is in the front so it can't be from there. I realise the smoke is actually from burning rubber, and the situation dawns on me as the ride becomes very, very bumpy.

Pure Car-nage

(3) I really start to slow down now. It doesn't help; in fact, it gets worse. I put the hazard lights on, a good move. I look around at the cars beside me, almost pleadingly. They back off, naturally. I abandon my plans to get off the motorway and look for the nearest place to stop. Ahead of me (4) is the off-ramp and in between this and the motorway is a nice, fat median strip. I set my sights on it and bump and bounce my way towards it, getting ever slower. The wheel by this stage has lost any sense of its original shape and is merely chunks of rubber grating under the car.

I make it to the median strip, get on safely and grind to a halt. Literally. I don't move. I'm not scared or panicked, just seriously freaked out. Soon I ring up my folks who come out to help me. There's a spare tyre on the back but I'd be damned if I knew what to do with it. And so I just sit there, not moving out of the car at all. There's nothing I can do, so I won't do anything. My girlfriend rings me up after I text her saying "My tire just blew out on the motorway..." which is an understandable reaction! She certainly helps to settle my nerves and soon I return to watching the car go past me. I had only just got the vehicle within the median strip, so the cars and trucks going past are still very close, meaning that every time they big ones go past the car gets rocked sideways. I just sit and wait.

The Battle Scar

Finally the cavalry arrives and I retreat to the safety of their car. The weather is now sincerely miserable, the wind and rain blowing right into us. We needed to call the AA and since they have a nice 90 minute wait time, I get to go home! There was certainly no point in me being there! Eventually the car is sorted and it is now running on the spare. We are still collectively bracing ourselves for the idea alone of having to replace the tyre(s). So currently I'm driving around with the spare on, and the old, shredded tyre smugly sitting on the back. It's like a battle scar. 

So now as we batten down the hatches for Cyclone #2, I can comfortably say that I am wheely tyred of this week, and cars especially! And of course, bad car puns. They're exhausting. Ha.

Just A Little Crack...

If you have been following this blog for a little while, or read some of my previous posts, you will have noticed that it has been very quiet on the front of my Private War. You may recall the last time we heard, the cats seemed to be up to something in the bathroom. The hot water, nemesis of my life, seemed to be biding its time. Well, unbeknownst to me until very recently, it was busy at work.

The Crack Covered Up

A few weeks ago, I felt something funny when I was in the shower. No, settle down, I know where your mind is going. What I felt was a strange line on the floor of the shower. I looked down at it and saw quite clearly what seemed like a small crack in the base. I didn't think much of it at the time; if something needed to be done, someone else would find it and deal with it! Fast forward to the beginning of this week; I come home to find a long, black line of tape on the floor of the shower. I am greeted by the news that the shower is leaking. Believe me, this isn't the first time, but it is the first time it's gone through the middle of the floor.

Utter Devastation

So the people who deal with these things in my family (a.k.a. not me) got onto the people who fix these sorts of things on campus, and soon someone was coming to look at it. Lo and behold, two days later the shower was gone, the tub was gone, the vanity was gone, even the floor was gone. One little crack and the whole bathroom basically had to be destroyed. I knew at once this was no chance occurrence. It was the hot water. While we had been happily enjoying our showers for the last few months, the hot water had slowly been wearing away at this spot on the base. Quite a lot like Chinese water torture; mine is a cruel and cunning enemy. It knew full well that if it cracked the bottom of the shower, we would have to replace the whole thing. And when we did that, we would want to replace the tub, which has never drained properly. And while we were at it, the old vanity as well. And the floor. It knew all along.

Still No Floor

The end result of this? I have to clean my teeth in the toilet. No, not in the actual bowl, but in the sink in the room. We now have to take showers in the boarding house, which isn't the most appetising option. And being a shower for boarders, the door doesn't lock, of course. The bathroom is out of action for the rest of the week; the new shower is in but not dry, and we won't get the new floor until Monday. Well played hot water, well played my friend. Maybe I should go on the offensive, and hit back at it before its next diabolic scheme comes to fruition? Watch. This. Space. You know this won't be the last you hear of this!

Tour Diary: Day 5- 25/12/2010

Very Classy

Christmas Morning 2010 was certainly the most low-key one in my memory. That was, however, the plan for us; it’s nice to take the day off and just enjoy it once in a while. We had agreed not to get presents for each other, so we could use our money to buy things for ourselves on the trip. Of course, my father still bought some anyway; he got me a great pair of silver cricket-themed cuff links, one a bat and the other a ball. I also got a nice Melbourne t-shirt with the traditional tramcar on it.

Camera + Sculpture
= Posing

The rest of the morning was very slow, since we were essentially waiting for our Christmas lunch. Since we had to book it well in advance, we had chosen the earlier of the two sittings, meaning that we had to leave the hotel at 11 to be there for the start. In any case, we were nice and early and took a walk along the pier at Docklands. This occasioned much taking of photos and of course the posing that this necessitates. The day was overcast and a little chilly, so we soon headed inside. Lunch was at an Italian restaurant called Bellissimo, though since it was Christmas Day they only had a limited menu. This meant choosing between three or four dishes for each course, which isn’t too bad.

Bellissimo!

Surprisingly, most of the mains weren’t very Italian but the Kid’s Menu looked the part much more! However, Continuing my new found streak of adventurousness in things culinary, I tried turkey for the first time and I loved it. Apart from the food, it was a nice experience. We had the mandatory Christmas crackers to open, though I chose not to put on one of the silly hats. Behind us along one wall there was a seemingly endless Italian family having lunch. They certainly knew what they wanted and weren’t afraid to demand it!

After lunch we were feeling happy but full, so it was back to the hotel for a lazy Christmas Day siesta. Since so many things were closed that day, it didn’t leave us much to do. However that afternoon I ventured out to see if the internet cafe were still open; luckily it was attached to a dairy so it was still open. It may sound a bit sad, but it meant I could pass on Christmas wishes to friends and birthday ones to my brother!

One Mother Of A Burger!

Dinner that evening was much more subdued. We decided to utilise the hotel’s room service, though it took several calls and some stroppiness to get through. When we did, however, we were rather taken aback at how big the meals were. I ordered a Chicken burger and it seemed as though they had stuck the whole bird inside! I steadily wore away at this while we watched cheesy Christmas movies on TV. Unfortunately the best thing on that night was Back To The Future III, which says a lot.

As Christmas night drew to a close, I discovered FoxSports were showing reviews of the NRL season and their NRL shows. This was absolute heaven! This occasioned an hour or so of me sitting in front of the TV, shouting out mock commentaries. This really put me in the mood for next season and now I can’t wait for to start! When those finished I decided it was time to hit the hay and get a good sleep before the main event the next day- the Boxing Day test match at the MCG!

Tour Diary: Day 4- 24/12/2010

After my failed attempt to find the Greg Chappell Cricket Centre the day before, I was much better prepared come the fourth day of my stay in Melbourne. It turns out I had headed in completely the wrong direction the day before, so I was never going to find it. This time I found it within a very short time, and was soon immersed in cricket equipment and merchandise. It’s not very often you find a dedicated cricket store, and this one was fairly impressive. Unfortunately the umpires’ section was still rather small, but I did buy a replacement counter, as mine had split just before leaving for Melbourne. 

When finally I dragged myself away from the store, I headed into town to use the internet again and find where they sold some specific clothes which I was after. Since I was in Melbourne, I thought it would be funny to pick up some ‘Spinners’ clothes. These are of course Shane Warne’s own line of clothing, mostly underwear but also shirts etc. I soon discovered they sold these at Target and before you know it I had my own Shane Warne underwear. I find the idea hilarious! I also got a great pair of black summer pyjamas. Before I had gone to the store, I had changed the shirt I bought the day before because I wasn’t happy with it, so I had it in a bag when I went through Target. After going through the checkout, I stopped to put my change in my wallet. I stopped next to the gates which beep if you try to steal things (I’m sure they have a technical name) and they started beeping. The woman at the checkout looked at me, checked my items and said that it was probably just what I had in my bag that as setting them off. When I got outside the store, I thought to myself that I could have had anything in that bag. She never checked what it was, so I basically could have been stealing from the store. Not the sharpest knife in the drawer I’m afraid! 

The Yarra River

I dropped off my shopping at the hotel and, having realised that I had nearly depleted my monetary reserves, I decided to do something that wouldn’t cost me money. I bought a cheap lunch at a cafe, who managed to forget about my order for five minutes and consequently gave me a free drink as compensation. My usual thriftiness was kicking in and going well! I then took a book and headed down to the river for a bit of reading. The weather was brilliant, the sun was shining and I had a lovely time. 

Semi-Extreme

Since I was in such a good mood, I decided to have a bath back at the hotel. This is something I hadn’t done for almost a decade, so it took a few seconds to remember even how to draw a bath! It was a very small bath, but it was still very nice and relaxing. That put me in a very good mood for the evening, which was of course Christmas Eve. Soon I was getting dressed up, ready for a special dinner. When I came to iron my shirt, I got a few photos of me ironing with the view out of the window. This was my attempt at 'extreme ironing;' to be honest it wasn't very extreme but it's about the closest I'll get!

The Colonial Tramcar Restaurant

Before leaving Auckland, we had booked a table on the Colonial Tramcar Restaurant. This is an authentic, old-fashioned tram which runs a circuit through the city while you are served dinner. The interior was just as impressive as the outside, and very much looked the part for Christmas. The dinner was fairly simple, given that it all had to be cooked and served on board. It was still delicious though! I was also rather bold and decided it was about time I shared a glass of wine (or two) with my parents to mark the occasion. The tram travelled around the southern suburbs, as far as St Kilda beach which looked picturesque in the late evening sun. All in all, it was a very pleasant ride, a lovely meal and a really special night! 

The Service Programme

After our ride it was still fairly early and we decided to attend the service of Nine Lessons and Carols at St Paul’s Cathedral, just across from Flinders Street Station. We arrived about fifteen minutes before the start, and it was already packed. We saw a few empty spots near the front, but when we arrived we found they were reserved. Cunningly, we stood around there and eventually some important-looking lady said we could sit there as no one else would need them. So we ended up with good seating! The section seemed to have been reserved for family of the choir, and they guy sitting next to me seemed to be a singer as well. Come the second verse of the first carol, we both coincidentally launched into the bass harmony. Now I won’t say we started to compete against each other, but we certainly both got stuck into some of the carols. The service was quite nice, though a lot of the songs were arrangements by the Cathedral’s director so it was a bit different. 

That brought a wonderful evening to a close. The carol service especially helped bring a Christmassy feeling to everything, which was understandably lacking being away from home. We didn’t have anything major planned for Christmas morning so after a bit we settled in for a good sleep.

Tour Diary: Day 3- 23/12/2010

After a good sleep, our third day saw us head to the Queen Victoria Markets for a spot of tourist shopping. When we finally managed to get there, after catching a series of wrong trams and going halfway around the city centre, I split up from my folks to delve into the markets. The markets a really a large series of stalls, running in parallel columns seemingly forever. There were only so many things they could sell though, so many of them had several identical twins. Sometimes you wondered if you had doubled back on yourself! 

Just One Of Many!

Common items for sale included shoes, belts, opals, everything fake you could possibly want, tourist t-shirts and lots of native-themed merchandise. I found one cool shop with lots of fake sport shirts; I couldn’t resist the opportunity to pick up a Zidane shirt, for headbutting other people in! I’d meant to get one in Europe 4 years ago but never did, so I finally had my wish! I also picked up a nice belt to go with my new shorts. One stall had a great variety of funny shirts- some of them rather rude- but I resisted the temptation at the time. 

After checking out all the stalls, I headed away from the markets in search of the nearby cricket store. However, I soon realised I didn’t have a map and didn’t really have any idea where I was going! I gave up and jumped on board the tourist shuttle bus- a mistake. It took me on quite a roundabout journey, all the way out to Docklands, but I wasn’t in any real hurry anyway. After stopping off at the hotel, I went in search of an internet café, in a bid to keep in touch with the goings on in the world. Before I knew it, I was back on Facebook typing and clicking away. Luckily the looming threat of paying for usage kept me from lingering! I then fulfilled my requirement of going to a McDonald’s in every country I visit. It was a funny time to go too, because local man Shane Warne was plastered everywhere. On the way back to the hotel, I found a shop with a big sale on business shirts and eventually bought a nice blue one. 

D R James

That afternoon my parents and I went to meet Roy Kelly, the former headmaster of King’s. We had arranged a time to see him and caught the tram to his amazingly nice house at Melbourne Grammar. He was always a wonderful headmaster and nothing about him had changed. It was a real pleasure to see him again and find out about life since he had left. As always he was kind, generous and very friendly. When he offered us a guided tour of the school, we couldn’t refuse. The campus is amazing, the facilities are excellent, it truly was a wonderful place to go. I think he enjoyed showing it off as much as we enjoyed seeing it! We also managed to find the name of my  grandfather's best friend, who was killed in World War Two, on their memorial wall.

When finally we had explored every corner of the school, we went on our way, still in awe of the beautiful place. That evening we went out to Docklands to find a place for dinner, as well as scouting out the place where we had booked lunch for Christmas Day. Quite fortunately, we found a wonderful steakhouse with the most exquisite food! You could get five different types of steak, four different cuts of each, cooked five different ways and with four different sauces. It was to die for! 

Sunset Over Melbourne

After that great dinner, we headed up the Eureka Tower for sunset. The tower is the tallest building in Melbourne, with 88 floors. Unfortunately the day had just started to cloud over and the scene wasn’t as picturesque as we had hoped. However, the city did look beautiful when it lit up. AAMI park even had green and red Christmas lights on! Soon it was back down the lift (which was exceedingly quick!) and back to the hotel for bed.

 

A Very Christmassy AAMI Park On The Right!

Tour Diary: Day 2- 22/12/2010

With jet leg taking its toll, my first morning in Melbourne was certainly a grasse matinée. Eventually I was roused from my slumber by the sounds of my parents having breakfast, which was to become a regular event on the trip. The majority of the day was to be spent on a coach tour to Philip Island, but we decided to get a bit of shopping in before we left. At Myer, one of the big department stores, I bought a couple of pairs of shorts, a commodity that has been lacking to me for some time. I also bought a shirt which has a dodgy joke in French, which is right up my alley!  

We had lunch at a pancake parlour called ‘Lovely!’ which did not disappoint. They had some mouthwatering pancakes; I ordered the chicken. Seriously! It came on pancakes though, and I also had some pancakes with ice cream for dessert. By the end of it I was well and truly full, but very satisfied! We definitely need something similar back in NZ. That was all we had time for before our tour- I should probably explain the gist of it now. 

Picturesque! 

Philip Island is a big island to the south of Melbourne, and a popular site for holidayers and tourists. On the island is a beach where, every night at dusk, thousands of Little Penguins come out of the water and up into the sand dunes, into their nests. This event is quite the tourist attraction and thousands of people come every night to watch the phenomenon. Since it is quite a trip to get there, and nothing happens until dark, tours visit several other sites on the way to make a day out of it. 

We travelled on a tour bus, which contained your typical tourist group; half the passengers were of asian origin and the ones sitting behind us had one child who would not stop crying. In front of us was a british couple, obviously in love and keen on kissing each other for at least half the trip. There was a large british contingent; several were large and obnoxious, and they all made friends with one mad old woman, who would constantly shout out inane things and hold us all up. Our driver was very friendly and managed to keep most of them under control, and everyone on time with the threat of making latecomers sing a song. 

I'm Not Sure Who Is Less Impressed

Our first stop was a little farm, complete with kangaroos, wombats, emus and all sorts of Australian birds. Oh and a cafe, which was the main attraction for several people. The countryside was relatively pleasant on the way, quite a lot like NZ but with a few different trees. We caught a glimpse of the perimeter fence of the secret testing ground for Holden’s new car models, which was on the highway to Philip Island. Needless to say, there were plenty of open spaces around. 

John Howard? 

Big Nuts!

Once we reached the island and crossed the only bridge to it, we stopped at the Koala sanctuary. This had been set up because tour buses used to drive around the back streets of the island looking for Koalas, which annoyed the locals apparently. The purpose-built sanctuary consisted of walkways which you followed, all the time craning your neck trying to spot a Koala. Luckily, once a few people spotted one, everyone would crowd around so they were easier to spot. They aren’t the most lively of creatures, and once you’d seen a few they all seemed the same. So we soon ended up in the visitor centre, which included a larger-than-life model of the Eucalyptus nuts. They were seriously big nuts!  

The Penguin Beanie!

After the Koalas, we headed down to the ‘Nobbies,’ a rocky part of the coast at the far west of the island. I think it’s a pretty stupid name, to be honest! There was apparently a large seal colony far below, but it was cold and they could only be seen through binoculars so we went into the gift shop instead. I bought a nice scarf, so I didn’t really mind the stop! Outside in the grass there were several wallabies, yet another iconic aussie animal we saw that day. Soon we were heading for out final destination, the Penguin Parade. It was a while until dusk, when the penguins would first come out, so we had dinner and once again perused the wares in the gift shop. I saw a great penguin beanie, which I couldn’t resist buying. 

The Skybox

Now to the main event. We were lucky enough to have special tickets to the ‘Skybox,’ which was like a private box at the beach. It was also the place where the chief ranger sat and counted all the penguins every night. We had our own ranger who gave us a thorough run down of the whole experience, which made it quite fun. There were only 9 of us, and we had special binoculars to watch the penguins with. It was also nice to be inside, because it was pretty chilly outside! The regular punters had to sit outside on two big grandstands on the beach and watch the penguins from there. 

The Beach

The penguins started to emerge just as the light started to fade; you could see the first groups swimming in and landing on the rocks on the very edge of the beach. They would then sit and think about it for a while, before making a mad dash for the beach and the scrub. It was really quite a sight! Eventually the started landing across the beach, and eventually streamed in at different places. I thought it looked a bit like one of those movie re-enactments of the D-Day landings, sans the machine gun fire. Near the end we got to walk down to another special area, where you can sit down right next to the path where the penguins walk up. They are exceptionally cute because they are the smallest type of penguin. It was amazing to see them up close! Unfortunately for their safety, we weren’t able to take any photos. 

I Didn't Take This

Finally we headed back up the beach; the penguins almost followed the same paths, walking right next to the boardwalk. At the very top there was even a ‘penguin crossing’ where they sometimes liked to hop across the path. We all climbed back onto the bus before our departure time and were soon on the way back to Melbourne. We stopped once to do a spot of stargazing, but soon most of the passengers went to sleep after what was a long day! We arrived back just on midnight, and I went straight to sleep.

Stonygrangey

You've probably wondered, at some time or another, why I use the name stonygrangey so much. That's fair enough, because it's a rather strange name and it's my username for seemingly everything. Those two facts are in themselves related, because it's good to have a unique username which you can be sure no one else will have. Anyway, there is a story behind the name, one which is funny but also long. I have put off explaining it, fearing I wouldn't do it justice, but I think it's about time I did. 

This story involves two English teachers, a Scottish poet and a mad Indian. And of course me. Some background is necessary before we get into the real story. My secondary school education start at King's College in 2004, where I was in the top year 9 class, 9R1. For English, we had a very interesting teacher named Tony Greaney. He was a rather blokey guy for an English teacher; you don't get too many who coach rugby. He and I never quite saw eye to eye, shall we say. In fact, he had the distinction of being the only teacher to give me a detention, but that is a story for another day.

Flash forward to 2006, and year 11 English. This year we had David Barclay as our teacher, a man renowned for his dry, slow accent, and teaching for that matter. Everything was always 'foreshadowing' something with him and it became almost a catch phrase. Alongside me in this class was my good friend Avi Singh. Avi is a cricket nut, and has a very generous sense of humour. We became good friends in 2005 and certainly shared some funny moments in and out of the classroom. By this stage we were thick as thieves and would do our best to liven up the otherwise dull class. It is in this setting that this story takes place. 

Only Now Do I Find The Title Dodgy

For our IGCSE English syllabus, we were blessed with a wonderful compilation of poems, entitled 'Touched With Fire.' I'm being sarcastic, if you couldn't pick that up. I'm not a big fan of poetry, especially not anthologies, because you know that whatever happens, half of them will be rubbish. Anyway, one poem in particular from that anthology features in this story. Scottish poet Edwin Muir wrote the poem 'Horses' near the turn of the 20th century. It is not to be confused with his other poem entitled 'The Horses;' he obviously had a thing for them. This poem opens with the following stanza: 

Those lumbering horses in the steady plough, 

On the bare field - I wonder, why, just now, 

They seemed terrible, so wild and strange, 

Like magic power on the stony grange.

Perhaps you're starting to see the picture. Avi was quick to see the connection between the words 'stony grange' and Tony Greaney. This highly amused both of us, since memories of that class and teacher were normally amusing. I quickly added a y to the end of the line, and stony grangey was born. Avi then added his own annotation, which reads:

pun, foreshadows future life as Tony Greaney

an english teacher at King's College...

  

The Birth Of Stonygrangey!

This greatly amused both of us for quite a while, which helped pass the time in the lull that was English. Another period saw us renaming players from the Sri Lankan cricket team as characters from MacBeth, resulting in such monstrosities as 'Malinga Banquodara.' Avi also coined the name fatzmacduff, a combination of MacDuff and his nickname for me, variations on 'fatty.' His other nicknames for me included Inzamam and fatty potato, based on my previously large girth, and of course the legendary Gubbins.

Very Embarrassing...

As it turned out, the name stonygrangey seemed to stick with me and eventually I began to use it for usernames, emails and the like. It isn't the best one, because people have problems spelling it, but then again, some people seem to have problems spelling 'Benjamin.' Actually, as I now recall, on that very copy of 'Touched With Fire' I managed to spell my own name wrong. Yes, I wrote 'Benjiman' rather absent-mindedly, before realising and making a horrible mess trying to cover all traces of the embarrassing mistake. To make matters worse, the cover was yellow so it couldn't be twinked. I put it down to the fact that people were calling me 'benji' a lot at school, a name popular after Benji Marshall's premiership winning NRL season in 2005. 

On the subject of names and pseudonyms, I once submitted a French essay under the name of 'Monsieur Chatouilles.' Those of you familiar with 'Mr Men' will know Mr Tickle and his outrageously long orange arms; however, you may not know that he has a French counterpart- Monsieur Chatouilles, or Mr Tickles. Having discovered a French book with him on the cover, I thought it would be all too clever to use the name for my essay. My teacher knew that it was me of course; I had once submitted an essay with the word count written as a quadratic equation just to annoy him! On a related point, I am all too familiar with the Mr Men and Little Miss characters, because there is a poster of them on the roof at my orthodontist, and I have spent many hours staring at them. 

Asides aside, that is a general history of pseudonyms and nicknames; now you know why stonygrangey appears on basically everything I do. Having written this story, it doesn't seem nearly as funny as it did at the time, but that's life I guess. As it happens, the name has stuck with me for most likely the rest of my life! So there you go!

Putting The Twit In Twitter

So, I've finally given in and set up my own Twitter account. I'm not that big on it yet, but I quite like the idea of having somewhere to put up all the strange things that I am thinking all the time. I used to do this on Facebook but it seemed a little out of place, so maybe Twitter is the way to go for me. And it seems that since Twitter and related social media are seemingly the 'way of the future,' it makes sense to be on the inside, rather than the other way around. 

On a related matter, it struck me the other day that I am quite stubborn when it comes to new technology. I was thinking about how old people just seem incapable of using computers and the like, and I arrogantly declared to myself that in my old age I wouldn't have such problems. But then I considered the advances in technology  in the last few years and how little I have had anything to do with them. I have steadfastly refused to get an iPhone or iPad, to use the internet on a mobile, and (previously) to use sites like twitter and co. 

When it comes to technology, a lot of the time I don't buy into it- literally- because it is too expensive, and I am quite a miser. But I think that is a dangerous mindset to have from the outset, so I plan to be a bit more open-minded in future. It's amazing how you don't realise things like this until it hits you in the face! So look out for me on Twitter if you're that way inclined- quite unoriginally, I am @stonygrangey. I've got a pretty cool background anyway! Let's see how it goes! 

Tour Diary: Day 1- 21/12/2010

A journey of a thousand miles starts with one step. Luckily, I wasn’t travelling that far, nor was I walking it. I guess I shouldn’t complain about the plane then, but I think I still will. The flight was nice and early, meaning a 5am start. Having sat around listening to increasingly stroppy messages for people holding up other flights, we finally got to board ours. Of course that was only half the battle, as we spent about ten minutes taxiing around before finally taking off. 

The plane was an Air New Zealand one, so it was good without being anything special. The flight was four hours long, the sort which gives you the opportunity to catch up on movies you mean to see but never get to. This time I decided to watch ‘Tomorrow When The War Began’, based on the book which I had read in days gone by. It was rather unintentionally ironic, since I was going to Australia for the first time and here I was watching a movie about the country being invaded! 

Eventually we landed; just when I thought the flight was over, it turned out that another plane liked our gate so much that it thought it would stay. They had to tow the damn thing away to let us get off! The flight crew, bless their souls, told us that it would only take about ten minutes. After about twenty minutes of these announcements, I tuned out. Planes have a funny way of robbing you of all sense of time; I have no idea how long we waited, but I was certainly happy to set foot on Australian soil at last! 

We were greeted by your typical airport service, though their sniffer dog was a cute puppy, which almost made you forget that it was really there to catch criminals trafficking illicit and dangerous materials and whatnot. Still, cute puppy! After more waiting around- very used to it by this stage- we caught a series of buses to the hotel, dropped off our stuff, and headed straight to the MCG for the grand tour. 

The Colosseum-like MCG

Our Tour Guide

This was certainly a highlight of the trip; I was somewhat surprised to see that our guide was an old lady, decked out in a stripy blazer. As it turned out, she was a senior member of the prestigious Melbourne Cricket Club, and quite knowledgeable and experienced. The tour itself was incredible; we got to go everywhere bar on the pitch itself! We got into the teams’ balconies and dressing rooms, the media rooms, the nets and facilities and so many more places. Naturally, I took hundreds of photos! 

Dennis Lillee And I

After the tour, we didn’t stop there. The MCG SuperStore was just too tempting- I picked up a proper Australian test shirt and an Ashes series souvenir shirt, as well as a pair of cuff links shaped like the urn! We also went down into the Museum, where there were just far too many incredible things to list. Of interest were Australia’s last 3 World Cup Trophies, which were on loan along with Don Bradman’s baggy green and his bat from his first test. I especially liked looking at some of the old stumps, just to see how much they had changed- but that’s just the umpire in me! 


By the end of all of that excitement, the jet lag caught up with us. I had a nap at the hotel before we headed out for dinner. We ate at a nice Irish pub up the road, which tried hard to be authentic but was still pretty Australian. Afterwards, we walked to Coles supermarket, to buy some supplies. I was pretty bored, until out of he blue I saw ICC Umpire Aleem Dar shopping with his family. When I first saw him, I did a double take and retreated; I proceeded to compose myself and calmly sought him out, with hand outstretched. 

The World's Best Umpire

He accepted the handshake and was happy to have a conversation. He certainly was surprised to learn that I was also an umpire, and from New Zealand. He asked which city, and when I told him Auckland he immediately associated that with Billy Bowden. We got into talking about umpiring and he asked me how I try to practice- rather sheepishly I said that I try to watch a lot on tv, although it first came out as ‘lotch a what’ which was rather embarrassing! He didn’t seem to notice or mind, and agreed that it is good practice to try and give the decisions even when you’re only watching. He also asked about me, and by the time his wife came to his side, he introduced me as ‘one of the youngest umpires in New Zealand.’ I was flattered but also hoped I hadn’t mislead him into thinking I’m anything special! I congratulated him on his being named the world’s best umpire and wished him all the best- I almost said Merry Christmas but thought better of it! He asked my name again and said he would remember it. 

It took a few minutes after for me to come out of that state of shock and the associated adrenaline rush you have when meeting famous people- this was the equivalent for me of meeting a rock star at the dairy down the road! After that, the night was all but over, and I resorted to watching some old World Series Cricket games on the tv in the hotel. It was an amazing first day, much more than I had expected and it really put me in a great mood for the rest of the trip!