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The summer of 2005 is pretty lame on the sports front- no lympicks, no Euro footie.
Also, the Jumpers For Goalposts forum died a while back- probably wrapped in a tissue and flushed down the bog at TMO HQ without any kind of teary ceremony at all.
I think sports fans are a little under-represented round here, so I have made a nice thread for us.
For starters, what are the greatest sporting moments that you have witnessed? In order to kick this thread off in a suitably manly vein, I will talk about ponies and ice skating.
1. 1989 Cheltenham Gold Cup
Recently voted Greatest Ever Race in the Racing Post, this is one of the first sporting events I remember watching on telly. I recall my mum shouting at the white horse to come on, and unbelievably it seemed to find an extra gear and force its head in front on the line. It's considered a classic for many reasons; the horse detested going left handed and only ever won twice round left handed courses, the race was nearly called off due to the terrible condidtions- knee-deep mud and snow falling on the morning of the race (they've since sorted out the drainage at Cheltenham and the race is never likely to be run on such exhausting going again), and for the fact that he was clearly knackered and running on empty from the last fence, but forced himself in front through the sheer will to win. I really wish I had been there on that day; grown men were reportedly blubbing with emotion and the crowd was near-hysterical with elation.
2. 1998 Olympic Mens Figure Skating
(picture chosen for pert arse-ness)
This was the time when quadruple jumping started to become more common. Commentators would always speculate, "will he put in a quad?", and there would be a dramatic build-up before the skater attempted one. In the final free programme, Yagudin did about four quad combination jumps with contemptuous ease, making it look as easy as folding your arms. It was a technically fiendish and flawlessly executed programme, co-ordinated perfectly with music from Lawrence of Arabia. Without being a big figure skating expert, I remember thinking as I watched it, "fucking hell, there has never been anything like this before." It is still regarded as pretty much the best piece of skating ever.
Sporty Forites: discuss your favourite glories!
PS discussions about healthy activities performed by posters in real life, rather than watched on telly, are not allowed.
PPS Can anyone find a weirder sports forum than the discussion site on Alexei Yagudin's official page? There is a thread devoted to what you would like to dress Alexei up in.
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Louche
Carved TMO on her clit just to make you feel bad
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My experience of sporting events which are not Wigan Rugby League are rather limited. And I am forced to admit that my experience of Wigan Rugby League comes primarily from the old Central Park stadium being an accepted pulling ground for desperate teenagers in the late 1980s. Freezing in icy Boxing Day winds, frostbitten fingers, alternating glances between thighs on field and that boy from Abby Gabby who is stood over there. Not much of a social life in Wigan, you know.
But, the best sporting thing I have ever seen was the Rugby 7s at the Commonwealth Games. I snaffled some tickets which were supposed to go to small deprived things from Darwen. Brand new City of Manchester stadium. Total party atmosphere all over clean and shiny East Manchester. People eating fire. Stupid people dressed up in giant green costumes for no apparent reason. Cheery mood of innit all dead great pervading. Mad volunteers handing water out to people who didn't want or need it and proceeded to give it to small urchins who sold it on... Cracking view of the pitch. Australian fmaily sat next to us, swopping some good natured abuse about the comparative state of our rugby teams. Their small boy cried when Australia lost and the Dad shouted at him. Poor small boy. I can't even remember who won, it was just all the most immense fun. I'm trying to decide now what I want to go and see at the Olympics. I bet athletics is dead boring. What else is there?
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No one would have guessed this of course, but the obvious winner for me is the Rugby World Cup final. It had everything that any England sporting occasion could ask for, not least England hanging in there and nearly winning. Only, this time, just for once, the usual nightmare was cancelled and England actually did win, and deservedly and with great honour too. And in Australia, against the Australians.
I can remember watching the old F1, when Murray Walker and James Hunt were commentating and Michael Schumacher was the young upstart nutter and seasons ended with dramatic final races to decide the championship. It was always exciting, from start to finish of the season. Nowadays it usually takes drama behind the scenes to make F1 exciting. Terrible loss. I keep watching, but it's like buying new albums by a favourite band that have completely lost their touch.
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quote:Originally posted by Vogon Poetess: The summer of 2005 is pretty lame on the sports front- no lympicks, no Euro footie. I think sports fans are a little under-represented round here, so I have made a nice thread for us.
For starters, what are the greatest sporting moments that you have witnessed?
ermm. Lions Tour? The Ashes?
Anyway, the greatest moment for me (and this has almost become a cliche I know) was when England won the Rugby World Cup with a Jonny Wilkinson drop goal just 26 seconds from the end. Fuck I will never forget that feeling watching the ball soar over the bar, I creamed my pants.
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quote:Originally posted by Louche: But, the best sporting thing I have ever seen was the Rugby 7s at the Commonwealth Games.
I went to that too. Can confirm the marvellous atmosphere in the crowd. Kind of national rivalry but with the mutual community feeling of the Commonwealth at the same time.
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quote:Originally posted by Gemini: ermm. Lions Tour? The Ashes?
lol, rugby and cricket? Are you Australian or something?
I forgot there were so many rugby fans around here. I'm afraid I can't respect a sport that can't agree on what set of rules to play under (the Union/League thing, whatever that may be), and that can't work out what the aim of the game is (run with the ball, throw the ball, kick the ball, roll around on the floor with the ball).
Louche: the athletics is good to watch, as the track and field events go on at the same time, so there's lots of different things to look at. Also the gymnastics is amazing, and sometimes they fall off the beam/horse and cry.
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posted
I am enjoying the sport of Anthony fending off lurvestruck and predatory gaylord, Craig in the BB house at the moment. Its gonna kick off that one. Mark my words.
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quote:Originally posted by Vogon Poetess: I'm afraid I can't respect a sport that can't agree on what set of rules to play under (the Union/League thing, whatever that may be)
Union/League/Association/American/Aussie Rules... just different types of football. Rugby Union and Rugby League players often cross between the two, Jason Robinson being a fine example, same as F1 drivers sometimes try Indie, and vice versa.
As for the run with the ball, throw the ball, kick the ball, roll around on the floor with the ball situation, well this is one of the big attractions of Rugby (Union at least) - that all shapes and sizes can find a place in a Rugby team because the team needs weight, height, speed, power, dexterity and so on in different positions. Apart from the goalkeeper being a bit taller than the others, I doubt if you could look at a random Soccer team and tell who played what position, or that you could fit in someone who couldn't run very fast but could stop a charging elephant in its tracks.
Anyway, different sports for different sorts. Remember, things like golf, snooker and darts all get huge audiences. There may even be some fans here. Don't bother telling us if you are though.
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I've taken up golf recently. I was hitting some balls at a driving range last night, in fact, and am playing a round tomorrow at 6.56 am. And I enjoy a game of darts. And snooker.
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My sport of choice has always been football - while I may not be of the oracle type knowledge of games past and present, or posses the statto type knowledge of many of my fellow fantasy league players - a fault that shows only too well in my meagre financial returns from participating - I do love the game. I take it personally - its something that has shown me true elation and utter despair. It is also the only thing that has made me really cry in the last few years (Argentina - England 1998, West Ham Relegation 2003 though I managed to hold it back as I was amongst company). But it is something that when the victories do come in the elation is like a pure high. For that I recall the following moments of unadulterated joy:
The International - England versus Germany, Munich 1st September 2001
This was one of those games of pure legend that I still have to pinch myself about. I was at Heathrow the night before having flown in - for some reason I stopped and had a beer and met some fans who were en-route to Munich. The Mood was subdued, with no idea of what was to occur.
The following day I was at Gatwick picking up my then Girlfriend who was flying in from Atlanta. We ajourned to a posh hotel in London for some 'reacquaintance' and then jet lagged, she went to sleep. I watched the preceeding Holland Ireland game, and then the main event.
It all started like so many England games - subdued and under pressure and this soon opened the door for Carsten Jancker to put Germany up 1-0 in the 6th minute. I settled back for the inevitable pasting, but England soldiered on and just 6 minutes later Owen puts us level. I sit up with a little restored faith, and this faith pays back when in the 4th minute of added time in the first half Steve Gerrard belts a howler of a shot in from 30 yards. Germany 1 England 2 and more shock than elation as the whistle goes for the end of the period.
Then just 3 minutes into the second half, Michael Owen completes his brace and suddenly we are all over our greatest rivals in scenes reminiscant of 1966. The entire country is in awe of this England team and throughout pubs accross the land, this Saturday afternoon is fast becoming one of the greatest ever. Cheers for Owen to complete his hat trick are realised when in the 66th minute, that omionous number, he puts away his 3rd and it all goes wild. And if that wasn't enough (it surely was), the greatest merchant of inconsisty Emile Heskey scores Englands 5th - Motty waxing lyrically "This is getting better and Better and BETTER!" I'm jumping on the bed stark bollock naked at the greatest International to date. Soon my mates are calling from Holland where all the Dutch it seems are as elated as we are. It's one of the few times I wish I was not with my woman and was out with the masses.
The best of my boys - West Ham versus Preston, 30/05/05 Cardiff
I'd supported West Ham since I was a kid - the first proper match I got into was their FA Cup victory over Arsenal in 1980. And in the 25 years later I hadn't seen a lot of that former glory - there was the relegation/promotion of the late 80's early 90's but I wasn't a true fan until a few years later when I started taking a much keener interest, partly due to the advent of Satellite TV and the chance to watch them more.
Relegation in 2003 hit me hard as aforemntioned, and 2 years of wallowing in the first was sad in the shadows of my contemporaries favourite teams successes in the Premiership - losing the final for the playoffs was close in 2004, but we let in Crystal Palace to the glories of the heady heights that is probably the greatest league in the world. Undettered however, Alan Pardew battled on and though it was by the skin of our teeth, got us to 6th place and a play off place - the same position that Palace had occupied just 12 months before.
We fought hard, and managed to get to the final. The match itself was nothing to be proud of - just a Bobby Zamora goal and the longest added minutes I have ever had to endure (7 minutes - hell when you are so close to victory) but it was for me the pure elation that I had missed. I was the only Hammer in a pub with 30 Preston fans, and when that whistle blew, I didn't know what to do. I know I wept a bit, and all I could say was "We've done it!". A few handshakes with the opposing yet sportsmanlike fans, and then off to my regular haunt where the football asided and the elation kicked in. Just pure emotional glee that had a lot of people struggling to comprehend me. It doesn't get much better!
The greatest comeback since Lazarus - AC Milan vs Liverpool, 25/05/05 Istanbul
Whilst the previous game does not merit legendary status unlike the first, the final entry in my personal recollection surely has to be the greatest comeback ever. I'd tagged along as a best mate is a staunch scouser and loves the game as do I. The packed black and white were all siding with the reds, and the promise was so bitterly crushed within seconds when AC Milan went 1 up when Maldini beat the defence without Liverpool having a proper touch of the ball. And it got worse, by half time 3 to nothing, and the pub was just full of despair.
But for the strangest reason, I knew this game was far from over. I turned to my pal and with confidence told him that Liverpool could still turn this, and I also mentioned to my girlfriend that she should stay, as she may witness one of the greatest soccer moments of her life (which would not be difficult, her not being a big footie fan).
Second half starts, and after 9 minutes Gerrard sticks one in to give brief relief to the Liverpool fans. I cracked a joke to Pete that watch as I was right. Just 2 minutes later, Smicer scores and Pete looks at me with the stare of disbelief. The Murmurs for the first goal were now escalated to cheers. On 59 minutes however the place when fucking mental as Alonso completes to make it 3 a piece and suddenly, Liverpool are back in the game. In just 5 minutes from complete despair to utter disbelief and complete glorious mayhem.
Like all magical games, this one went to the last and the deadlock could not be broken through the rest of the half and extra time, and the game goes to Penalties and the game was as good as over then. AC Milan at half time thought the cup was theirs, but Liverpool had outclassed them in the second half, and the italians were already dejected when they went to take the penalties. Liverpool were on fire, and didn't need to go beyond the 5, as they slotted theirs away with ease to Milano's poor attempts.
The atmosphere from that night I cannot recall apart from the tears of sheer joy, hugging people I did not even know and it virtually raining beer.
Barnsley V Ipswich in the 2000 Playoff final. We lost. Barnsley that is. Fucking day though. Sat in some rough old Wembley boozer watching fans from both sides, fat to a (wo)man, singing songs at one another. Everyone laughing. Everyone. Walk up to Wembley and the scene was exactly like above. Blue to the left, red to the right. Was amazing. Then the game was fucking brilliant. Barnsley lead and I nearly pass out, missed penaltys, late come backs. Just a fucking brilliant game. Losing was wank and now we are shit but I loved that day I did.
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quote:Originally posted by Waynster: Fuck - just seen the bit about Telly ones not allowed. No fair!
I think the ban is on people talking about sports they've actually done, like Mart did just up there look, rather than watch on TV. So you don't have to delete your lovely post, praise be.
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posted
Yes, Waynester, I meant this is a thread for lazy-arses like myself to talk about the joy of slumping in a chair watching other people get sweaty and exhausted.
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tennessee titans vs indianapolis colts. 2004. september i think. definitely 2004 though. last season.
anyway. i'd been out the night before and got horrendously drunk. crawled in at 5am. got woken up at 9am by roommate saying his dad was here to take me to the match. ran out got dressed. put suncream on as new it was going to be hot as a motherfucker. to use the vernacular. managed to get sun cream in my eyes. in my eyes. sting. ow. ouch. fuck. for hours. got some breakfast. somehow considering the game kicked off at 12 we had to leave at 9? i'm confused. downtown is 15 minutes away. er. right. get to the stadium. its fucking maaaassif central. people milling around badly badly dressed. it is hot. there is denim. white trainers. long hair. newport smoke everywhere. get onto the concourse and keep going. up. and up and up.
get to seat. sit down. am really at the top of the stadium. but i can see everything. the cheerleaders are doing their thing. and i have low level hangover horn. the game is not the top of my concern. everyone stands for the national anthem as troops from the 1st air cav (i think) sationed at fort campbell are back from eye-rak. and they all march in. they unfurl a flag the size of the football pitch. i am dumbfounded and speechless. my eyes hurt. still. good job i have sun cream on. as the sun is hot. the boys from eye-rak are standing on the touchlines. in the sun. they've spent the best part of a year in the sun getting shot at. defending freedom. and they don't even get a seat in the shade. god i love america.
the game kicks off. its grunt grunt grunt slam. cheer. 4 times. we score 14 points in the first half. thats not going to be enough. peyton manning is at the start of his record breaking season. where he shatters dan marino's record of touchdown passes thrown. we are going to get beat. chris brown our running back is making us forget that eddie george (p.b.u.h.) has moved onto dallas (spit). half time.
what the fuck? what the fuck is that in the distance??
it can't be? it fucking is. the announcers just told me, i'm looking into the distance and my eyes are burning. they're watering like mad.
fuck me. its so close. i can touch the bastard. er. that things not loaded right? i'm wiping suncream out of my eyes while a b-52 flies over head and i'm surrounded by people whipped up on patriotic bollocks.
then after thats flown on by and made me think "thank fuck i'll never be on the business end of one of them", a team of parachutists drop in. from the air force or something.
i'm thinking this might be a recruiting ground.
we lost the match. by a lot. it was a shit time to be a titan fan last season. played 16. won 5. lost 11.
just as well i think american football is shit.
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FC Bayern München v Valencia CF Champions League Final, Milan 2001
Some may argue this was not the greatest of matches as it saw nothing but penalty kicks, but it was being there that made the difference.
The Buildup
Get into Milan Linate about 11am, and make my way to the city where I have planned to the others who have made their way from Munich and through the Brenner. We all meet up around 1pm, and head off to the first bar where we can see the colours. They have Erdinger there, probably just for the day. Much of the time is spent talking about the Bundesliga, and the dramatic final day which say Patrik Andersson score an injury-time free kick to level things up against HSV and snatch the title from Schalke 04, whose players were on the field celebrating at the time. We then move onto to the Champions League itself, and the quarters and semis, where United and Real were clinically disposed of with home and away wins. Valencia? Easy. We'll take them hands down. Many beers and a late pasta lunch later, we start to make away to the ground - my first visit to the spectacular and legendary San Siro.
First half
After undergoing the customary searches and getting into the ground, we take up our seats about halfway up the bank behind the goal at the Bayern end. It is a sea of red and white with a touch of blue - I am wearing my rather stylish dark blue away shirt. A roar goes out as the Champions League anthem blares out and the players take the field.
After less than five minutes, the elation is dampened as Valencia are awarded a penalty (which when watched afterwards was highly dubious). Gaizka Mendiata (now of less fashionable Middlesbrough) puts the spot kick away. Less than five minutes later however, hope is restored as we get a spot kick of our own, after Effe is bundled over in the area. Scholli steps up to take the kick. We have confidence, we know he can strike them. However a massive collective groan ensues as Scholl strikes the ball straight to Canizares in the Valencia goal. For a moment, it feels like 1999 and the Nou Camp all over again. The difference is that this time we still have over eighty minutes to repair things. After this dramatic start, things die down a little, and the best we can offer is a scuffed shot from Elber across the face of the Valencia goal.
Second Half
Sagnol off, Jancker on. Groans from some sections of the Münch'ner. These groans turn to cheers once more as the big man, derided by many as a bumbling carthorse, tangles with Amadeo Carboni and sees the ball fly off the defender's arm. Elfmeter! Effe steps up to take the spot-kick, and there is no repeat of what happened in the first half. The ball smakcs against the back of the net, and we're back in it. 1-1.
The game slows down at this point, but there are plenty of sharp bursts from English prodigy Owen Hargreaves, who has a stormer of a game. Ditto Sammy Kuffour, who shores up the defence with his usual steel and crisp tackling.
Extra Time
And so the game ends at 1-1. Verlängerung, Golden Goal. Cagey, no real chances. The crowd falls dramatically silent for most of the half hour, fearing the killer strike. We end up the stronger though as the last ten minutes are spent camped in the Valencia half. The ref blows up, and it's the almost inevitable penalty shoot-out.
Penalties
The ref walks over to the goal in front of us - it seems the best view is going to be saved for last. And so to the shootout.
If our nerves were not shot already after the penalty drama during regulation time, our first spot-kick is a disaster as Paolo Sergio blasts his over the bar. Mendieta sends Olli Kahn the wrong way. 1-0 to Balencia. Hasan Salihadmidzic gets us on the board, but Carew keeps Valencia ahead. Zico then steps up and in spite of the intimidation tactics from Canizares levels things out at 2-2. Valencia still have a pen in hand though.
Up steps Zlatko Zahovic, who smacks his kick accurately and firmly. But Kahn saves! 2-2, level pegging again. Saturday's hero Andersson steps up. are we going to see a repeat of the piledriver against Hamburg? Unfortunately not - the wave of emotions suffers yet another dip as his tame shot is easily parried by Canizares. The next kick is the defining moment. Carboni steps up and strikes the ball firmly down the centre of the goal. Kahn, diving away to his left, sticks out a firm hand, pushing the ball up against the bar and out. The Valencia fans cheer, and then fall dramatically silent as they see the ball fall into Olli's arms. Back level. Again. By this time I and many around me have gone completely silent. We are completely spent, drained. Effe lashes the ball into the top left-hand corner, a truly imperious penalty if ever I saw one. I don't cheer, only look at Andy standing next to me and give him a steely stare. Valencia now have to score, and Baraja keeps his nerve. 3-3, all five regulation penalties taken.
Now it's the turn of those not initially selected to take a spot-kick. Lizarazu is the first, and he slams his shot into the right-hand side of the net. 4-3 Bayern. Another pump of the fist. Another steely glare. Kily Gonzalez for Valencia. 4-4. Veteran defender Thomas Linke then sends Canizares the wrong way. 5-4 Bayern. And then Olli palms away Pellegrino's effort. A split second of silence as if to make sure the ball hasn't made its way into the net, and then a huge roar and hugs all round as we see Kahn charge away arms aloft. Twenty-five years of hurt, but we've done it. We can finally banish memeories of Aston Villa in 1981, Porto in 1987 and of course United in 1999. It's joy unconfined as Effe lifts the gleaming silver Pott.
The Aftermath
There are no Valencia supporters in sight in the city centre, as we make our way to the first available place to get a post-match Bier. In contrast to the afternoon, every place that is open is awash with Bayern colours. Anyone and everyone shakes our hands, offers an embrace. I get kissed by at least half a dozen Mädchen in red and white, and those are the ones I can remember. We all slope off to the hotel room around 3am, and have happy dreams.
The next day
Nursing a massive hangover, we spend our free time taking a short tour of Venice. I didn't really get to take it in, and so promised the city I would return one day. Get a lift to the airport, sleep on the 'plane, arrive at Heathrow.
The day doesn't end there, as I make my way to a TMO meet in London still in my now sweaty Bayern shirt and still nursing the last vestiges of the Erdinger-fuelled hangover. I will still apologise to those who thought I was a little bit distant that evening...
ETA: Of course, with all the highs and lows, attending a TMO meet was the ultimate nadir...
posted
I think possibly the only great sporting moment I witnessed was the Rugby World Cup final last year. Well, the last 20 mins of it. M got up early to watch it and I got up in thime to get ready to go and meet his aunty for lunch...but then overtime! Oh no...we are going to be late for lunch...call her and say we are late...she is seventy years old - she doesnt have a mobile! Gah! Looks like there might be more overtime! I will go on ahead and meet her and explain he is on his way soon...but no! There goes Jonny..*punt*....*soar*...look at Jonny's surprised face! Wooo! I was quite chuffed, though I wouldn't have wanted to watch more than 20 min of the whole tournament.
Also once during a football thing when England lost aginst Germany I was locked in a pub for my own saftey as the streets were full of angry, drunk rampaging men.
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