In your boat race…

And so the great British sporting spring begins with surely one of the most pointless sporting events ever, the Boat Race. We sat through it last night out of pure politeness (Mrs Spurt had never seen one before) and we have to report that as a sporting spectacle, it did not cover itself in glory.

Originally conceived as a way to thin out the academic gene pool and for the university nobs to run riot about London town (if PG Woodhouse is to be believed), we can remember our folks coming over all a quiver at the prospect when we were knee high to a grasshopper, but even back then it seemed as pointless as a politician’s promise.

Twenty minutes of pure tedium given a glossy sheen by esoteric language and frankly rubbish tactics (“They’re driving for the Middlesex station but Oxford move to cover it”, “Cambridge have the smoother stroke rate” – what? What?!), it’s basically a dull pull-a-thon that could easily be decided down at the local gym.

You can occasionally judge a sport by it’s coverage and when the funniest quote from two hundred years of competition is the 1949 radio commentary from John Snagge "I can't see who's in the lead but it's either Oxford or Cambridge" then you know you’re not in for the finest of sporting spectacles.

Apparently someone won (either Oxford or Cambridge ho ho - we'd lost the will to live by then) and nearly quarter of a million people watch from the banks of the Thames and over 120 million world wide on TV.

People you need to get out more.

Pay Days

More trouble at t' mill today as the Indian Greed Premier League gears up to make a land grab on the last country to hold out against the Twenty20 money fest, our dear beloved old Enger-land.

Following New Zealand’s capitulation t’other day, hope was springing eternal after there was a strong line offered by ECB chairman Giles Clarke, who said that England wouldn’t change its domestic first class calendar to accommodate the Indian League. So there!

Strong words indeed, but of course money roars and today the Professional Cricket Association’s Sean Morris said that England players would want to join in the cash dash and a solution should be found or ‘money will talk.’

Undoubtedly it will it always does and with IPL chairman Lalit Modi recently hinting that the IPL would shift its season forward so that the England players could be accommodated into this essentially meaningless license-to-print money league.

It’s going to be hard for players to resist the lure of an easy Twenty20 slogfest rather than grafting away at the gruelling round of Test and ODIs and it’ll only take the likes of a Harmison to sign up before other players think ‘screw that I’m up for some easy money’.

Not so bad perhaps if it's a old pro like Stephen Fleming or Shane Warne looking to cash in at the end of their career, but what about a young gun like Stuart Broad just starting out for example?

So sad to see the traditions and foundations of cricket slowly being eroded by a format which was not long ago being hailed as its saviour.

Reasons to be cheerful?

So as we predicted yesterday, England finally broke the habit of a lifetime and came back to win the series against New Zealand 2-1.

But what does this mean for the team and what does it bode for a tough summer ahead of the Aussies visit next year? Well it’s a bit of a mixed bag. On the one hand winning any series is welcome and England haven’t won away since Sri Lanka three years ago. Coming from 1-0 behind to turn around a three-Test series is no also mean feat, so on the surface at least, there’s plenty to be positive about.

But - and just like Nigella’s - it’s a big ‘but’, the Kiwis are probably the weakest Test playing nation outside Bangladesh and Zimbabwe, so there’s no reason to crack open the bubbly quite yet.

Yet, there are reasons to be cheerful especially in the bowling department. Ryan Sidebottom’s emerged as the real leader of the bowling pack and Stuart Broad looks like he could become an all-rounder of genuine potential. Nice to see Monty back in the wickets too (eventually), but the jury is still out on Harmy and Anderson, while Hoggy will have to put in some work to earn his place back.

Now the batsmen. Well Collingwood and Bell emerge with real credit and it was good to see KP back in some kind of form back after his comparative recent lull, but for the rest of the willow-wielders it’s case unproven. The top three of Cook, Vaughan and especially Strauss still have plenty of work to do before the Aussies start looking over their shoulders. The return fixture can't come soon enough and England will need to hand the Black Caps a comprehensive thrashing on home soil to carry some momentum through to South Africa during this long, hot summer.

England’s double shocker

We go away for a short Easter break with Mrs Spurt and what on earth is the sporting world coming to? First up long-standing England posh lad Andrew Strauss rescues his career with a mighty career-best 177 against the Kiwis, then new wunderkind Stuart Broad bowls like a demon in tandem with Monty to set up what should be a thrilling series-snatching victory from the the sheep worriers.

However it’s a bit of a measure of how far the mighty have fallen that we should have to win an away series (or indeed any series) coming from behind in such a manner. Doesn’t bode well for the return of the Aussies next year.

Awesome news too from the world of Bangladesh cricket, where following Andrew Symonds recent vigilante impersonation, Bangladesh's Mohammad Ashraful has handed out a spot of summary justice to a spectator who was booing him. Ashraful didn't even wait for a game to begin, this was a slap handed out in the nets before the match. Fine work from the 23-year old Bangladesh skipper.

Elsewhere in shock news new England footy boss Fabio Capello names dozy drug test dodger and sometime centre back Rio Ferdinand as skipper against Les Blues for the friendly tomorrow night. The smart money was apparently on John Terry, or as a real surprise, the Becks, so it’s a bit of a left field call from the Italian boss. But at least it keeps everyone on their toes while the captaincy rotates around the main candidates. Let’s just hope Rio remembers to turn up on time.

Becks is back...

So clothes horse, gay icon and part-time footballer David Beckham is back in the England fold for next week’s soiree against France and rightly so we believe here at the Spurt.

Not that we Spurters are sentimentalists or anything, or indeed think the former England skipper has any real future with the squad, but let’s just get this 100th cap malarkey done and dusted so the team can move on, because frankly, it’s becoming distracting.

Credit where credit is due though, and in between the pant shoots and ill advised sarong flouting, the boy Dave’s done a great job for England over the years, skippering a team of woeful underachievers, always trying his nuts off for the team and on occasion, carrying the entire side on his shoulders..

There’s been many lows (elimination at every quarter final stage and not even qualifying for this summer) and quite a few highs (that wonder goal against Greece) but it would be churlish to deny him a century of England caps.

However the future of right midfield now looks sown up in the form of David Bentley and to a lesser extent Aaron Lennon and Sean Wright-Philips. So let’s get the boy Dave his 100th cap and pack him off to the States to spend the twilight of his career entertaining the Yanks. It’ll be a suitable end for a fine player who always had more than a touch of the Hollywoods.

Road to Recovery

And just like that, we’re back. Yup apologies for the break in transmission, nope we weren’t lying low to avoid Sports Council sponsored hitmen, or dodging sordid tabloid spurting revelations - and rumours that we had anything to do with organising that latest rumble in Tibet (Chinese Military 30 – unarmed Tibetan protestors 0) are absolutely wide of the mark.

Nope unfortunately the truth was - like England’s top order batsman - a touch more prosaic. It was the flu wot done it and as were lying stretched, feverish and sweaty and labouring under the influenza cosh, we could have sworn we saw England triumph in the cricket, the rugby and the Grand Prix as Lewis Hamilton took the chequered flag in Aussie land.

What’s that? Feverish hallucination? None of that actually happened? Nope? Must have been the delirium then...

Still, great news greets us on our return to what laughingly passes for sanity around these parts with news that Cricket has struck back against the evil monetary empire of the Indian Premier League with home boards now able to veto any individual player’s involvement in the IPL.

Awesome news and a real dose of much needed bulwark against the fairly pointless cash cow which was threatening the integrity of our beloved and most holy Test cricket.

It’s just what the doctor ordered.

The seven deadly sporting sins...

Intriguing news from that bastion of sanity and probity the Vatican, with a hilarious recent updating of the seven deadly sins.

Out go old stalwarts like sloth, gluttony and (our personal favourite) lust and in come polluting the planet, eating dairy and having your iPod on too loud on public transport (note. we may have made those up, because we couldn’t be bothered to actually read anything the Pope says).

But it did get us all of a ponder... surely there must be some mileage in a seven deadly sporting sins?

And sure enough, there was...

Drugs
The idea of competitive sport is to pit your natural skills, wit and abilities to outwit or defeat your opponent. Chemically enhancing your chances is a no-no. Otherwise you’ll be said to have ‘Done a Dwayne’ and your profile will be measured in Chambers, the new official unit of sporting unpopularity.

Bribery
If you can’t win by fair means... bung the umpire a few quid or a couple of hookers and suddenly all the fifty-fifty decisions start coming your way. You’ll probably get caught eventually of course, but if it’s good enough for Serie A...

Knobbling
We don’t mean a little bit of jiggery pokery which is fair enough, like getting the West Indies so pissed on the black stuff on the night before that they were 25 All Out against Ireland in 1969. Nope, we mean deliberately knobbling or kicking the shit out of a opponent. Naughty, naughty.

Bad losers
You got beat, get over it. Yup, the weather/pitch condition/planetary alignment/referee or opposition’s skill level just proved too much on the day. Get on with it and stop whining. Ferguson, Wenger we’re looking at you.

Arrogance
Yeah you might have won everything under the sun, be three times undisputed champ and a multiple award winner. Hell you might have even won the biggest one all, BBC Sports personality of the year (cough) but a touch of humility wouldn’t go amiss alright?

Punditry
Nothing wrong with some good honest punditry per se, but the ‘Not as Good/Tough/ Hard/Competitive/Skilful or Difficult as it was in my day’ brigade can piss right off. So can the TV execs who keep hiring them. Note: We’re still available TV land.

Being French/Australian
Probably the most unforgivable sporting sin of all...

Formula PlayStation

Awesome news from the World of F1, where ahead of the season's pipe-opener, Williams co-owner and former chief designer Patrick Head has come up with a novel suggestion to even the playing field between the leading teams and the rest of the chasing pack.

His answer? Easy, start the race in reverse order, with the championship leaders starting at the back of the grid and having to pass the other teams on their way to the chequered flag. It’s a novel suggestion and certainly not without its merits, meaning we’d get a wealth of overtaking and potentially quite huge amounts of carnage (which let’s face it would certainly make Monte Carlo a blast watching the McLarens and Ferraris desperately trying to get past a super slow Super Aguri).

Genius or rubbish? it’s often such a thin line that decides...

Elsewhere we learn that F1 cars are going to have a special boost button this season, which will give the motor an extra bit of oomph for rapid overtaking manoeuvres. Frankly we thought Alain Prost was exaggerating recently when he likened current Formula One to ‘playing on a PlayStation’, but a boost button on an F1 car is an idea nicked straight off the PlayStation generation.

What next? DualShock 3’s instead of steering wheels? Kimi and Lewis showing off their 'mad drivin' skilz' and trash talking each across Xbox Live? Perhaps they should dispense with the whole global F1 circus and have the championship played across the PlayStation Network?

It’d certainly save on the carbon offsetting.

The Cash dash...

It’s just as well there was a decent weekend of FA Cup action, as for England fans there was nothing to sup on but the bitter pint of despair and the soggy crisps of humiliation as we were respectively tonked by the Kiwis at Cricket and hammered by the Scots at Rugger.

So moving swiftly on, we’ll gloss over those which is readily covered by the old standby, ‘It’s England, what else do you seriously expect?’.

But the other big issue exercising us at the moment is the Indian Premier League and last week’s announcement that anyone playing for its rival the Indian Cricket League in future will be banned from all cricketing activity .

So donning our big sports punditry hat of seriousness we’d like to consider what this means for the game. First up let’s dispense with any coyness, this is simply about making the Indian board an even bigger pile of cash than it currently squats on, by some estimates the IPL will earn the BCCI $1 billion dollars.

When Zee Telefims threatened to break their cricketing monopoly, the BCCI quickly knocked up their own competition, the ICL, which is so awash with wedge that it threatens to disrupt the entire international schedule (which is already stretched to breaking), as well as sucking out the leading players into an essentially meaningless though extremely lucrative knockabout.

What’s even more depressing is the way the BCCI has used its financial muscle to bully the rest of the ICC (the ECB included) into forcing players to boycott the ICL for fear of not being allowed to play in their own domestic game. Restraint of trade anyone? Someone, probably England or the Aussies should have called their bluff, instead of meekly bending over.

When Twenty20 was introduced it was touted as a real saviour for the world game, but we seriously doubt this is what anyone had in mind.

Jolly Green Giant Killing

Previously on World of Spurt... We've talked about the Romance of the Cup before but it's nice to see ourselves vindicated by one of the most extraordinary FA Cup weekends ever.

With semi-final places at Wembley up for grabs, you'd think the big boys would be licking their lips and getting their suits measured already. But at 3pm on Sunday it now looks like the biggest weekend of giant killing since Jack went postal up the end of the beanstalk with the AK47 and the rocket launcher.

Has there ever been an FA Cup weekend like it? We're too lazy to look it up, but surely not in living memory.

Okay, so maybe Portsmouth were a touch fortunate to mug Man Utd at old Trafford in yesterday's lunchtime fixture. But Barnsley thoroughly deserved their more emphatic victory over Chelsea in last nights late game. Magnificent stuff from the Tykes and another stake in the heart for Avram Grant – with the media's knives being well and truly sharpened for the Chelsea boss.

And now Cardiff 2-0 up away against Middlesbrough at half-time and looking utterly superior to the Premiership side who were booed off the park by their own fans. With Bristol Rovers or West Brom guaranteed a place in the final tie of the weekend, we could see an FA Cup winner from not only outside the big four, but the top flight entirely.

That's why the FA Cup remains the most exciting knock-out competition in the footballing firmament.

World of stupid... Rugger Buggers...

And so to Friday and just a few short hours now until we’re freed up to drink ourselves into Friday night oblivion to try and forget after another week slaving in the salt mines of The Man.

Slightly disconcerting news from the strange world of rugby last night as hot England prospect Danny Cipriani has been dropped from Saturday’s clash against the Sweaties, after being papped leaving a nightclub on Wednesday emphasis on the quotes “in the early hours of the morning”.

Turns out young Danny boy was actually dropping off some tickets to the game for a mate at ten past twelve, didn’t drink in the club and was tucked up in bed within the hour. Several ex-players and his Wasps coach Shaun Edwards immediately leapt to his defence.

But no wonder he’s been banned say we. This is surely conduct unbecoming according to the rugby Neanderthals we occasionally encountered in our youth, who’d account it a disgrace if they hadn’t drunk themselves nearly unconscious, indulged in several bouts of homo-erotic grappling and imbibed at least a pint of each others bodily fluids the night before a game.

We know it’s a different game nowadays and this seems especially harsh on the talented young fly-half, even if he does have some rather unusual previous, allegedly bedding an ex-man woman.

Still, perhaps it proves England coach Brian Ashton’s a touch more old school than we thought?

Anyways, elsewhere there’s a veritable sport-a-thon to enjoy this weekend, with umpteen hours of Six Nations action to enjoy, a full round of televised FA cup glory and England probably narrowly escaping defeat at the hands of the sheep worriers. Top quality and Mrs Spurt is sure to be royally neglected this weekend. Sorry love.

Toodle pip! A spurting weekend to you all.

Gourmet Gunners

The Premiership, touted as the best league in the world and it probably just about is with its trademark pace, power and passion resulting in football of the most exciting and eminently watchable kind.

But equally, like connoisseurs of a particularly obscure branch of pornography, we occasionally like to sample a bit more of a cerebral incarnation of the beautiful game here on World of Spurt.

That’s why the prospect of a Champions League Tuesdays often rattles our collective chains during the workaday work-a-day, as we slowly measure out each and every individual second until we can escape the dull monotony we laughingly call gainful employment.

Okay so it’s broadcast on ITV, but there’s a price to pay for every iota of pleasure in our experience.

Still, last night’s AC Milan versus Arsenal game was truly one of the great European nights of recent memory. A fascinating duel between two outstanding teams, it was a joy to watch Fabregas et al, slowly, almost lovingly dissect Maldini and co. over the course of 90 minutes.

A truly cerebral encounter, it was a masterclass in tactical acumen, intricate passing and movement and the dark arts of defending , in short it had everything a Premiership game lacks and was all the better for it. A true connoisseurs experience, we could feel our footballing IQ slowly creep up with every pass.

It would be all too easy to write it up as the old order changeth with the young Gunners displacing a glorious but increasingly decrepit old guard

...so that’s exactly what we’re going to do.

Le streak, c’est chic

Well some days we’re sitting around scratching our balls, all of a fret and wondering what tasty spurting morsels to lay before our great reading public to tantalise, delight. tease and incite ... and then - like a gift from the very heavens or a juicy half-volley downt the leg-side - something like this falls slap bang into our lap.

Symonds, streaker, punishing shoulder barge, enough said. Apols to Getty for stealing the image, but surely they’re rich enough to spare one for this little blog and in this case it really does speak more than the requisite thousand words...

++Update++ See it for yourselves, thanks to the wonders of YouTube.

‘Tha’s good technique from Symonds is that’ as ‘Sir’ Geoffery Boycott would opine and clearly the ‘fair dinkum (ex-) Pom’ has a promising career in the frankly scary Ultimate Fighting Championship should ever interest in donning the baggy green wane.


But World of Spurt is forced to ask, why oh why, outside of nudey rugby icon and 40- inch mammary wielder Erica Rowe, is it only ever blokes who feel the urge to streak?

Ladies, this is the age of equality after all and we have no hesitation in calling for a mass female streak-off during this summer’s first test at Lord’s (the Saturday please, we have tix, thanks).

The blame game...

A new day brings a new something or other, and our first duty on this first spurt of the month is to send a message of brotherly solidarity to improbably vowelled Bolton keeper Jussi Jaaskelanen, who had a bit of a shocker during Saturday’s lunchtime Premiership outing.

Diverting an off-target Steven Gerrard into the back of his own net, via first hands, head then body, the ham-fisted, klutz normally cat-like Jussi copped a lot of flak for his mistake, which handed Liverpool the initiative and arguably helped them triumph in a tricky away fixture

As veteran keepers ourselves in our delinquent youth (which is thankfully not quite over yet, the fire still burns, it still burns we tell you!), we can eminently sympathise with young Jussi.

We can confirm that all anyone ever remembers is your high profile howlers trifling mistakes as a keeper, never the four or five times on average per game you save the team with your outstanding reflexes, clairvoyant positional sense and admirable personal courage.

Ahem, rant over, but Jussi you have our keeperly sympathies, we keepers truly are a breed apart.