So there’s this Pom bloke who’s had it up to here after two decades of watching the Aussies dominate most sports that matter and quite a few of those that don’t. Cracking a wobbly, he hops a plane down under and sets about beating a local at any sport he can. It’s the summer of 2005 (winter in Australia, but no one told the sunny skies and perfect beaches that), and he’s wound up in Manly, a suburb of Sydney so-called by Captain Cook after spying local Aborigines being just that. The Pom sets about trying to flog anyone he can in the hope of regaining some national pride and ‘banishing the Cringe’.
Any sport will do, and he steps up to the mark in shooting, lawn bowls, running, surfing, swimming – you name it, he gets thrashed in it. Bar the pensioner he beats after lying his undies off about his golf handicap, of course. He also tries to uncover the secret of Australia’s sporting success, treading well-known ground (the weather, the Australian Institute of Sport, the weather…) as well as musing on his own theories, such as the have-a-go attitude of immigrants.
Raking over historical ground, including the appalling treatment of early Aboriginal and women would-be sporting stars, and speaking to as many locals as he can, the author yearns for what could have been: the sporting success he might have enjoyed had his parents bought a £10 ticket boat ride the hell out of Old Blighty. His trip – and the book – comes to an end during last year’s Ashes. Delirious with joy, he wanders the Manly promenade at 5am, keen to take credit for his ‘small part in Australia’s Collapse’ (or England’s shocking first Ashes win in 18 years).
Despite being written by a Pom, it’s (whisper it) a hilarious and thoughtful book, published just in time for the next Ashes. Bring on the antique egg-cup, mate. Bring it on.
|
|
|
|
The best of London in your inbox
|
|
