Ruggers in Cardiff

Mary and I went to Cardiff last week to watch Ireland play Wales. We didn't get the result we wanted, but what a fantastic day. The Millennium Stadium is spectacular and the fans of both teams are just the best. The bloke in the picture is an Irishman, fresh of the boat to County Clapham. He decided to marry Mary there and then. Something to do with her relos having road facing land...

I wrote a blog for a Dutch sports blog - in Dutch. Sorry non-Dutchies, too lazy to translate!

Sports junkie

Between the Six Nations and cricket world cup, little is happening in my life. This time of the year I am generally anti social due to the ruggers, but throw in a cricket world cup as well and I am a true hermit until 7pm on weekends. Last weekend was a rugby free weekend, so I went to the Dam to catch up with friends. But that's about it as far as day time socialising goes.

The weekend of 12 March will be reasonably sociable, as my rugby mad friend Mary will be visiting. And thanks to a rugby playing colleague, I got allocated two tickets to the Wales-Ireland game. Mary and I will spend about 8 hours travelling for less than 2 hours rugby. But hey ho. It will be my best chance to watch this great sport at the Millenium Stadium.

From 3 April onwards, my own sociable self will reappear. Until then: sports it is!

2010

Amsterdam canal in winter
Originally uploaded by Gypsy Saskia

I yelled at the tele, fists clenched, and shed a tear when Sven Kramer missed Gold due to a miscommunication with his coach. I felt even more sorry for Kemkers than I did for Kramer. For the WC final I bought an excruciatingly expensive ticket to the Dam. In complete silence I watched the last few minutes in Cafe Tapmarin. It took some time before my colleagues stopped commenting on De Jong's talent for karate. And the Ashes? Don't get me started.... Not a great year for sports, 2010.

Hours were spent on twitter and news websites, trying to keep up to date with the world of politics. British elections, followed by Dutch elections (and don't forget the Australian). A slightly trolleyed Simon Schama on the BBC, a massive applause for Femke Halsema on politiek24.nl. An unusual coalition cabinet here, an unusual minority cabinet in Holland. The Christian Democrats and UK Labour congresses I watched on Twitter and the BBC streaming, both from my bed in Langkawi, Malaysia. Fascinated by the changes in the political landscapes.

Alexander (Lee) McQueens death shocked me. So young, so talented. Mulisch' death came as less of a surprise, especially after an overeager Dutch ceefax journo released the news way before it was meant to be shared with the world. Hanses Dijkstal and Van Mierlo, Miep Gies, Jan Blokker, Leslie Nielsen. The world lost a lot of special people.

And then there were Wikileaks, the miners, The Engagement, the iPad. Things that dominated the news for part of 2010. And of course the ash cloud of the vulcano with the name I cannot pronounce. The fecker was responsible for me not seeing my bro for a whole year, as we were supposed to meet in Holland that week and only he made it. Haiti, Aung San Suu Kyi, bad and good news throughout the year.

When my LinkedIn travel stat told me I'd visited nine countries this year, I figured it must be a mistake. But it wasn't. I made about 17 trips in 2010, only 3 of which were for work. The joys of living in Britain, tickets are relatively cheap and choice is plenty. I visited friends in Vienna, Melbourne, Singapore and Barcelona. Made several trips to the Dam and discovered Malaysia.

Also, 2010 was the year I decided to return back to Holland in 2011, for at least 2 years. The picture at the top of this piece is to remind myself that Amsterdam isn't so bad. That said, it's been a difficult choice. If work weren't a factor, I'd stay here but as things are...the best job for me in the near future will be in the Dam.

And finally, I turned into a bit of a shopaholic this year. I buy less but better stuff and spend hours online scavenging for it on sites such as mywardrobe.com, netaporter.com and theoutnet.com. All of a sudden my wardrobe contains Vivienne Westwood, Nicole Farhi, Missoni, Jil Sander and Marc Jacobs. The northener in me makes sure to buy these things in the sale, but still...I have definitely been Londified.

But the most important? 2010 was another year without deaths and illnesses, with the exception of one of my bosses. He has leukemia and is constantly in my mind. It's a blessing to not have lost anyone dear, to be healthy and know that the people that matter most are too. And that made 2010 a great year. No trips or handbags could ever compensate for that.

Sleep deprived

We're only three days into the Ashes and I am already so sleep deprived it ain't funny. For many reasons I wish Oz was closer, and this bloody time difference is on top of the list at the moment. And this is only the Brissie test. Starts at midnight UK time. Sydders and Melbs are half an hour later. But man, do I love it.

Take Thursday night. I went to bed rather excited (and rather pissed, but that's a different matter) as our batting was only just underway. Waking up Friday morning to a 220/5 and a wicketless final session (and a sore head) meant I had a slight spring in my step, making my way to work. My English partner and other colleagues were clearly starting to get worried, which only added to my joy.

Come Friday night, I stayed awake on espresso and jelly beans. Close to 2am, when Australia were at 308/5 I couldn't possibly stay awake any longer. Waking up this morning, the first thing I did was to check the score on my Blackberry. 481/10. Bring it on. And now, I am again counting on espresso and jelly beans to keep me awake for another 2,5 hours or so. In 2014 I probably need to take 6 weeks unpaid leave and just go to Oz. For now, I am accepting the fact that I will look like a ghost on valium by early January. It's all worth it.

An orange disillusion? Or not quite?

Hoping for the best
Originally uploaded by Gypsy Saskia

When we won the semis a week ago, I convinced my friend to host a barbie at hers for the Sunday night. She thought it was a great plan and, slightly intoxicated, we invited a bunch of friends. When I got home, Twitter and you tube convinced me I had to go to the Dam. By the time I had tracked down my boss the next morning and asked for a day off, ticket prices were sky high but I no longer cared. I had to go. Sorry friend. Bye bye BBQ.

Minor glitch in the trip was having Edgar Davids, whom I cannot stand, sitting in front of me on the plane, but hee hoo (had it been Clarence Seedorf, I'd have been over the moon). A lot of orange on the plane, a lot of orange at the airport. The train from Schiphol to the Dam was packed and orange and the experience brought tears to my eyes (I am a total sucker for sports madness and a bigger cry baby than Cristiano Ronaldo when it comes to sports). I knew I had made the right decision.

Half a day later, friend Mary and I enjoyed a quiet beer in Tapmarin. The same pub where I have watched big matches, with the same people, since '98. The clock on tele was counting down and the excitement grew. By the time the match kicked off, the pub was packed, and the nerves were almost unbearable. And then, nothing. No goals. No win. (No lack of cards.)

Gutted. Truth hit home when I was back at Schiphol, waiting to board, reading the Dutch papers. We lost. Big time. And not in the classiest way too. Godverdomme.

Today was a day of mixed emotions. I got loads of abuse at work, to the extent that the CFO did a karate kick and handed out a yellow card in a meeting. All playful banter, and I would have done the same. But man....painfull. Thank god tho for Dutch public television. When watching the playes interviews during the canal parade and the madness on Museumplein tonight, I realised what great guys they are. And despite some thuggery, they are a team to be proud of. A second place. That's 30 teams that did worse. As opposed to '74 and '78 when only 16 countries participated. What an achievement. I feel proud. Of the team, of the country, of the way the Dutch can be one. If only we could show the same spirit in daily life.

Wimbledon

Two years ago, I had only been in London for a few days when I went to Wimbledon. Women's final from Murray Mound. I couldn't believe how British it all was. Yesterday I went again. And after two years here, I still found it incredibly British. And lovely. The picknick areas, the black cab that drove me from the station to the ground (for £ 2.50!), the queuing sytem, the people with centre court tickets dressing up, it was all the same and all so different from say the Rotterdam tournament. No need to get myself a copy of the queing guide this year though, as a mate who works in the changing rooms got me a ground pass (and drinks for that matter). It was sunny, we had champagne and strawberries and I was ready for a smashing final.

A smashing final it wasn't. The most excitement from the crowd could be heard whenever Rafa changed his shirt (nowhere near often enough, I may add). Quicker than a priest could strip a school boy, most of Murray Mound cleared after the last ball. But it is as much about the experience as it is about the tennis. And the experience was wonderful once more. One minus of the whole day: I should have hung around, judging from my mate's Facebrag a few hours after I left: "Having a Haagen Dazs with Rafa". Aaaaaaaaaaaaah!

Happiness is...

...visiting friends in Barcelona
...watching Ned-Esp by yourself in a Spanish cafe
...watching Ned-Cam with a friend in a London pub
...summer in London
...hearing your name on way home from pub
...staying for that one too many pint
...being busy at work and building relationships
...the football craze
...facebook chats between four dear friends in three different countries
...rocket, mozzarella and blushed tomatoes
...wine and cheese

And when all these things come together in a week and a bit, life is just ever so good.

Invictus

It tells the beautiful story of the special bond between Nelson Mandela and Francois Pienaar, captain of the Bokke at the time of Mandela's presidency. Pienaar grew up in a traditional white Afrikaner family. His team mates are all white, except for Chester Williams. Most of his team mates refused to sing nkosi sikelel' iafrika when preparing for the World Cup. Slowly but steadily, the team (and the country) realise they are part of a rainbow nation. And whether is was Mandela giving them strength or something else, Pienaar leads his team to a victory in the 1995 World Cup, beating the All Blacks in the final (with a cameo by Jonah Lomu). I easily cry when it comes to sport, but this flick touched me at many times. And it brought me back to Pretoria, 1997.


The still predominantly white team had been losing match after match. That didn't stop myself and thirteen fellow students to get tickets for the Tri Nations match agains 'Straya in the stadium in Pretoria. A beautiful afternoon in August. A slightly strange afternoon activity after a morning visit to Soweto, but so be it. South Africa had to beat Australia by 31 points or so. Not very likely considering their last matches. But they won 61-22. It wasn't the result however that impressed us so much. Fourteen Dutch students in rugby stadion will sing football songs. No way around it. And who cares? Well. Some people did. The Boers from Orange Free State behind us did, to be precise. In Afrikaans they asked us if it were football songs we were singing. Followed by comments that football was for kaffers, their president was a criminal, and what have you. We were shocked rather than angry. These men probably didn't know any better, having been indoctrinated all their lives. In front of us, some of the players' parents were sat. English speaking, friendly, courteous. They seemed to enjoy our enthousiasm and provided an endless supply of tangerines, beer and biltong. A good balance with the racists behind us.

I spent three months in South Africa in '97. But that afternoon, in that stadium, summed it all up for me. And it was the beginning of a strong love for a hooligan's game played by gentlemen.

Disappointed is an understatement

A new national trauma. WC '74, Hilbert van der Duim's missed lap on the 5k, Seedorf's penalty. And now Sven Kramer's 10k in Vancouver. Disqualified because of an error of his coach.

I watched it online, while chatting away on Twitter. And then it happened. Coach Gerard Kemkers told Sven to take the inner rather than the outer lane. Bye bye Olympic Gold. Bye bye Olympic Record. Hello amazing sportsman. Sven's interview for Dutch TV was impressive. So composed, so mature. I so felt for him. And almost even more for Kemkers, the best coach we've ever had. A beautiful person, judging from what I've seen from him in the past twenty or so years. By 3.24am I was still wide awake. Almost feeling their devastation. Thinking of Sven. Thinking of Gerard. And thinking of the amazing things these two have done. I hope they (and the rest of the team) can do more amazing things in the team pursuit on Friday.
Picture nicked off Wereldomroep.nl

A day at the cricket

Off to bat
Originally uploaded by Gypsy Saskia

Or two days, really. In Canterbury this time, where the Australian team played the Lions. Nothing beats watching the boys play in the sun. I am truly at my happiest when at the ground, and I am a damn happy person in all aspects. It's just the best. Even a friendly. Seeing Binga enjoying his bowling, seeing the boys signing autographs for the young fans, seeing a sea gull take off with the bail of Binga's freshly bowled wicket, seeing Binga chase said bird. Just another day at the cricket.

A bit of stalking we did too: we 'happened to' go for a pre dinner drink in the players hotel. No swimming pool scenes (as my footy focussed brother asked immediately) but enjoying the Viognier with slightly better views than normal. Bit starstruck I was!

Will have to go back to Canterbury another time, as I think the town deserves a bit more attention than I gave it. Staying in the friendliest pub, the nice little shops and the impressive cathedral are reasons to go back for more.

Australia weekend

Priscila Queen of the Desert and Ashes. Jason Donovan (who ages very well, I might add) and Ricky Ponting (who I would love to lynch right now). A night at the theatre with friends. A day in the stadium in Cardiff with fellow cricket fans and a day at home glued to Cricinfo. Ah, and don't forget that glass of Australian viognier I had this arvo. A great weekend full of Australianness, but damn....that draw against England hurts.

Dutch victory

Dutch victory
Originally uploaded by Gypsy Saskia

They may have gone home - this celebratory pic is still worth sharing (for content rather than quality). The poms won't easily forget this!

Holy fricking crap

The Dutchies had me enthousiastic from the beginning, much to my surprise (so much for my "I will never support the Dutch team" two blogs down.....). They did well, the Dutch crowd (consisting of mainly 'kakkers') were making noise and the atmosphere was great. The English batted first and got a reasonable 162, and then it was for us to bat. And batting we did. Sixes even, unlike the English. Heaps of fours and a consistent run rate. I was jumping, cheering, shouting (all this from row 1, I might add) and clapping. And then that last ball... Two runs needed. Two runs run. Watch the video. The joy of the players was so big. A bunch of amateurs (as in....most of the team have day jobs that don't involve cricket) agains these pro's. Un-effing-believable. The hangover means I miss most of the kiwi game today, but off to the Oval in ten for some more cricket!

Booooooooring

A stomach bug or whatever it was kept me home for a few days. Truly sick on Sunday, crap Monday and Tuesday and back at work today feeling a bit lightheaded still. And christ, I am bored. Not being able to exercise drives me up the wall, there is only so much you can read with a head ache and the route between couch and bed really isn't very scenic. So...tomorrow it has to be over and done with.

I want to meet Chantal for dinner before going for drinks with fellow Dutchies tomorrow and to go to Lords with Zoe on Friday for the England - Netherlands 20Twenty worldcup game. Or Netherlands.... Half the players are, apart from their passports, about as Dutch as I am Australian. Ryan ten Doeschate, a great player, is a Saffa, as are some of the others. There is a dude who was born in New Zealand, as was Borren (who I went on a date with four years ago, only to find out on cricinfo he'd been playing for New Zealand's under 19s pretty recently). The rest seem to be posh The Hague born guys. The few I met in person made such a crap impression I will never support the Dutch team. Don't think much of the English either (I love the English but hate them in ruggers, footy and cricket) so I guess I will be Switzerland on Friday night. But hey ho: It's Lord's, it's with Zoe and it'll be Friday night. I will have a good time regardless!

Organised

I am not the most organised person in the world. Plane and concert tickets are about as much as I can handle in the organised department. And work if I am lucky. My friends are a bit better tho. Two weeks ago Chantal sent me the link for the ballot of the Leeds test. Monday nite I went out with Zoe, who had entered the Wimbledon ballot and asked if I wanted to come if she got tickets. And yesterday's Chantal's ex Mark, who I also consider a friend, emailed me to ask if I knew the Lord's ballot had opened. So....with a bit of luck Zoe gets me into Wimbledon, and I get some cricket tix. And Mark's mate Hodge is even so organised that he sent an email to the MCC (the cricket club that hosts the Lord's test match), quoting our order numbers, and asking if we could be sat together if we got tickets. Now that is organised. For that alone, I think we deserve to get tickets.

Weekend

A fun filled weekend. The Leonard Cohen concert on Friday was amazing, all 2.5 hours of it. Amazing how a man his age can still perform like that. He had an amazing band, sang all my fav songs and I was really moved by it all. Amazing, to use that word for a fourth time...

Then yesterday was my introduction to Twickenham. Pub, Hodge's (a mate of a mate who lives near the grounds with his wife and three gorgeous daughters), match, Hodge's, pub. Then Burger King on the way home. Keeping up with Australian men is not a clever thing, as my hangover told me this morning. Must have had about ten pints. 30 laps in the pool and 10 minutes in the steam room got rid of most of the hangover but I still feel a bit rough.

Stuff

Leonard Cohen gig, England-Australia @ Twickenham, another dinner at the Commonwealth club, Annie Leibovitz exhibition, Manon (a ballet) , Donovan Frankenreiter gig and a daytrip to Brighton. All in the next two weeks. How exciting!!

Sports

Generally, I am an ABE supporter. Anyone but England. In cricket, ruggers or footy you will never see me cheer for England. But during these Olympics, I find myself genuinely happy for the English and their succes. Every time I hear God Save Your Queen (as the aussies sing it), my heart makes a quick jump. Super Saturday and Surprise Sunday or whatever they call it, have been amazing. They did so, so well, and the athletes interviewed on the Beeb were such great people. My heart will remain orange or green or gold and green (depending on the sports), but my temporary home is filling the wee spot in the corner.

Wimbledon

Wow. Quite something. From the friendly guards on the way to the grounds from the 'Guide to queueing at Wimbledon' to the atmosphere on Henman Hill. Loved every minute of it. Saw Venus practice, was gutted that I missed Nadal practice, and watched some boring veteran tennis. And then it was off to HH for the ladies final. Zoe joined me after her band was done playing. Glass of pimms, chatting to an older American couple next to us and loads of sunshine (and sunburn, I have to add...). Great match, great place to watch it. Got to see the village of Wimbledon too, as we went to Zoe's parents, who live there, afterwards for a barbie. What a fun filled day!!