Laser Eye Surgery - I See Your Point

Crap puns to start this article? I don't see why not. I recently had laser eye surgery, and have had many people ask me about it and what it involves, how the recovery is going and many other questions so I thought I would put it into writing (not braille) for you here so that you don't go into it blind. OK, that's enough. Get on with it.

The morning after my surgery under
the effects of lots of medication.

Back in the days when I used to play cricket and take it somewhat seriously I decided to have a
season abroad in Australia to make myself a better player. When I got back to England the improvement was there for the first half of the season, and then I went on the sort of streak that makes me wonder how I didn't give the game up then and there; SEVEN ducks in a row, three of which were Golden (For those of you who don't know about cricket, a duck is when you are out without scoring, a golden duck is when you are out from the first delivery you face). It was about this time I thought I should get my eyes tested.

Sure enough, I needed corrective measures. I have never ever wanted to wear glasses so I went for contact lenses, and after a few failed attempts at inserting them resulted in bloodshot eyes I finally got the hang of it. I went for the ones that last up to a month and only took them out to sleep. I even got a cheer from the players balcony at Bovey Tracey Cricket Club when I finally got off the mark again. After a few years of this carry-on I suffered something called Episcleritis, which is basically when the eyes don't get enough oxygen and go red (see photos). It was recommended that I get glasses, and when using contact lenses I should only use the single-use daily ones. In 2011, I got glasses and used contact lenses for playing sport and social events.

I hated my glasses, so much so that I took them off for photos and vowed to get my eyes lasered one day. A cousin of mine had his done and he said it was one of the best things he ever did, and for approx £300 per eye it sounded like a great idea! Beats paying £150 every few years for glasses. I went for the referral and in typical style I was told my eyes needed a "special procedure that costs £1,000 per eye". Thank you for your time, see you never.

Episcleritis in my right eye at the end of the 2012 season.
This was September, by late October it still hadn't cleared.
(Pictured with Pete Bradley (L) and Chris Bradley (R))

And so the dream of laser eye surgery died a little death, not to be resurrected for a few more years. I went to a place in Parramatta in 2015 for a consultation, LASIK surgery for $3,000 per eye. Thanks but no thanks, I'll keep saving. Fast forward to the start of this year and once again I decided to go for a consultation, this time after a bit more in-depth research I found Sydney Eye Clinic. I booked myself in for an assessment at the Baulkham Hills office, and learnt of a new procedure called Advanced Surface Laser.

The difference is that with LASIK, they make an incision around your iris and open it like a flap, laser in behind it and close the flap again. That incision will never fully heal and there is a (very small) risk of infection. With Advanced Surface Laser they simply reshape the surface of the eye to ensure the light hits the inside of the eye in the correct way, therefore giving you perfect vision. No incisions, reduced risk of infection and crucially a lot more cost effective at $1,200 per eye which would come down further because of the Health Fund I chose. Naturally I made an appointment on the spot although I would have to wait a month to get in, and travel to Darlinghurst for the op.

Despite being told I would need a carer on the day, I completely underestimated the reliance I would have on my wife to undertake this role. I thought it would be a case of have the surgery, be driven home and after a rest day all would be normal. Not. A. Chance. Don't get me wrong, whilst the recovery was not easy it was an absolutely miniscule price to pay for the results, and I'll get to that, but if you do opt to go for this procedure be prepared. They give you a week off for a reason.

Sydney Eye Clinic say that in order to minimise the time off work you need they do the procedures on a Friday so you have the weekend to recover, and will sign you off from the Friday until usually the Wednesday or Thursday. In my case, they signed me off until the Friday meaning I had 6 days off "sick". You can't wear your contact lenses for two weeks before the procedure because it affects the surface of your eye and it needs time to settle.

October 2012 in Australia. Episcleritis in right eye still apparent.

Upon arrival on the day of the appointment I was introduced to Dr Ilan Sebban and immediately I was reassured. I cannot fault the man, he was polite, courteous, understanding, funny and relaxed me before an operation I was nervous about. It could have been the Xanax tablet kicking in to be fair, but when I later met him again without the effect of medication I thought the same, so there's that. You get sent downstairs to the pharmacy to pick up your medication. I honestly thought it would be a few eye-drops, and didn't expect the bagful they gave me. Valium (diazepam), Dozile sleeping tablets, prescribed painkillers and a script for Endone if the pain becomes unbearable and various eye-drops to be used at different times? You feel like you need a degree in chemistry to understand it and at this point I was mentally preparing for the operation so I switched off and let Jess take the instructions. I'm glad she did.

After a few final tests, calibrations and anaesthetic eye-drops I was led into the theatre to be greeted by more friendly staff, a bed and a great big piece of apparatus which was obviously the frickin' laser. You know those things that dentists use to keep your mouth open? Imagine those made of metal and for your eyes... Blinking would be a bad thing, so these prevent it. Sod matchsticks.

While laying down on the bed they move the apparatus in place, and impress on you how important it is for the following 30 seconds to look at the green dot, the whole green dot and nothing but the green dot, so help you God. Obviously you do it, ignoring the smell of welding or burning that is in the air. You breathe a sigh of relief as they rinse the eye with a solution, and then it's onto the next eye. The green dot! Don't forget the green dot! Same again, same burning smell, same rinsing and then voila! It's done! You feel nothing while the procedure is being done. No pain, maybe a mild pressure, but nothing. However when it is done, your eyes begin to sting more and more. You're becoming light sensitive. You are so focussed on this new sensation that anything they are telling you wouldn't register, and this is why your carer is so important. They listen to the instructions for you.

This was about the time it became clear it was a bigger deal that I gave it credit for. Jess had to guide me to the car, I couldn't keep my eyes open because it hurt. I got in the car and she drove home while I was there with a baseball cap over my face to try and ease the light sensitivity issue. It was a good 30-40 minute drive home but it felt like double. As soon as we got home I got into bed and was given the valium, probably some pain medication and thankfully fell asleep. Other than toilet breaks and some food I don't think I moved from that spot for at least 24 hours. The pain eased off, and the vision was blurry but the best thing for me to do was sleep.

Jess deserves enormous credit for keeping me to the schedule of medication and eye-drops all weekend, by Monday I was able to look after myself my vision was blurry still, and that lasted until well after I went back to work with gradual improvements. Podcasts and the radio are your friend in those first few days to combat boredom, television isn't the best idea for too long as it dries your eyes.

After two or three weeks there was still some blurriness, to the point that I was a little scared driving into work for a week or so because I couldn't read number plates except for the car immediately in front of me in traffic. However as each day progressed I felt more and more comfortable and things kept improving. When I went for my follow-up appointment after a couple of weeks Dr Sebban asked which line I could read on the usual screens they give you for eye-tests and I could read the bottom line, which surprised him! At this stage I was a little apprehensive that it hadn't worked as well as I hoped but he assured me the skin across the eye takes approximately 7-8 weeks to fully heal, so although your vision should be good enough after a week or so (and it was) it takes a little longer to become perfect. As I write this it has been 6 weeks since my operation and my vision is way better now than it was when I had contact lenses on, almost as perfect as when I had glasses.

I only have eye drops to last a couple more weeks and after that it is done. I couldn't be happier with the results even if they stay as they are now, and the fact they may improve further over the next couple of weeks is a bonus. In conclusion, it is definitely worth doing. If you have the right health fund you could save yourself even more, but if I remove that from the calculations and with the knowledge that this should last at least 10-15 years then I have already saved money if you compare that with the cost (and hassle) of glasses and contact lenses over that same period.

I'll happily answer any questions you might have, however if you seriously want to get it done book yourself an appointment with Sydney Eye Clinic and see Dr Sebban yourself. I am yet to speak to any person who has had their eyes lasered and said anything bad about it, everyone has said they are so glad they got it done. I'm the same and now I can vouch for it with my experiences. I started with a crap pun so now I'll end with one; You'll see what I mean.

After 22 Years, Cricket And I Need A Break

I don't remember a time when I wasn't aware of cricket, when the game didn't have some kind of spell over me. I remember English summers in a small Oxfordshire village watching the local team play and wishing I was allowed to, but also being afraid of a "real" leather cricket ball. A home-made block of wood that my father drilled stump holes into would be used on the street with a tennis ball and whosoever happened to be around and wanted to play would dictate my cricket until we moved to Devon, where I took up the real sport.

Unbelievable to be bowling in the nets with Shane Warne
just before the World Cup Semi Final in 2015 at the SCG.

There is absolutely no doubt that the game of cricket has given me the life I have today. I have been fortunate to play with and against some excellent cricketers, international cricketers and to train with international teams alongside people I'd only ever seen on TV. I have so many happy memories of cricket that it's almost unfathomable that I feel quite like I do about the game right now, in that I am ready to walk away from playing. Whether or not that is permanent remains to be seen, but as of now I feel like I've done my dash. Retirement sounds better than a sabbatical.

Ice and a cuppa. No recovery
needed next summer.

Black Eye. Wear A Helmet.

The first game of 2019 was the moment that secured it for me, but the warning signs have been building. I had long said that the 2018/19 season would be my last full season of playing, after that I would look at umpiring or scoring and only playing occasionally. Back in August during pre-season training, I hit a cricket ball into my own face and gave myself a black-eye... a freak occurrence as a result of a leading edge, but enough to make me doubt my ability to see the ball as a batsman. Yet the moment that confirmed it for me came about 45 minutes into the first game back after Christmas. While bowling.

I've never claimed to be the quickest bowler out there, I've definitely never claimed to be the best. Perhaps that's part of the reason I never excelled, because fast bowlers are supposed to be brash, full of confidence and ready to Alpha anyone that crosses their path. Not my style, even when I was young and brash the confidence and alpha-ing was faked. Some would argue that few fast bowlers are any different.

Too much weight, too much strain, no longer a bowler.

Jogging in to bowl with at least 3 different niggles across my two legs and letting go of a delivery in my second over with full effort only to see the batsman have time to change his mind three times over what shot to play and still finding the middle with a secure defensive stroke sapped my energy just as much as the 34°C heat and ridiculous humidity. The first ball I bowled was the best; chopping the batsman in half and missing the stumps by a bees-dick. I jokingly said "I won't bowl another one like that!" Perhaps it was the negative mindset (No, Jon Mears!)? Perhaps it was the overweight 32-year-old frame that couldn't hack it anymore...? But I didn't bowl another one like that. And that's when it hit me (yep, in the middle of an over in the middle of the field) that I've been playing this game for 22 years without a voluntary break, it's time to take one. Not necessarily permanent, but time off at least.

Hitting Jamie Overton through
the covers, Instow, North Devon, 2011.
Back when I wore a helmet...!

I'd always envisaged myself playing year in, year out until I was almost retired. Granted, I was never going to continue as a pace bowler forever, I've always wanted to bowl leg-spin and perhaps if there is a phase two that may happen?! Since moving to Australia permanently in 2013, cricket at Macquarie Uni CC has almost been central to my universe. Recently though, I have been somewhat philosophically wondering just how many family moments I've missed out on by playing the game? How many times has my long-suffering wife had to spend weekends on her own, or how many birthdays have I left early or not made it to because of cricket? How many times have I missed out on taking our nephew and niece to the park or the beach with the whole family for a picnic? Ultimately, family has to come first and giving my wife the honeymoon she deserves at a time when the next cricket season will be starting is a choice that realistically it shouldn't have taken over 4 years to make.

Without doubt my favourite team, Captaining Under 24's
to the Grand Final for (so far) the only time in MUCC's history.
Unfortunately we fell at the final hurdle to Strathfield.

Not only that, but the 2018/19 season is the first season I haven't had any responsibility at the club. I was on the committee almost from the moment I landed here in 2013, took on the 2nd Grade Captaincy, then the Vice-President role, then 1st Grade Captaincy. At any club that would take its toll, but dealing with the bureaucracy that Macquarie University throws in our direction annually, feigning interest in seeing cricket grow while systematically removing facilities and increasing thresholds for the club is on another level altogether. And working that hard for a club only to have the opposition comments on a weekly basis about how "this is where cricket comes to die!" or "when are you blokes going to get some proper f**king changing rooms?!" leaves one feeling less than enthusiastic. Make no mistake, the love I have for Macquarie University Cricket Club is without question. What is frustrating is that there are only a few of us that maintain that level of love and loyalty to the club. The sad thing is that with just a little investment, the university could have the best facilities in the whole of Sydney. Not just Shires Cricket, the whole city. 

Club politics are present wherever you go to play your cricket, whichever club you choose. There are things that are fair, and things that are a downright shambles. When you get criticised despite the effort you put in? When you have your integrity questioned by people who don't give a damn about the club? When you get accused of racism? Accused of only picking "white boys", yet the team-sheets suggest differently? When you hear of this so-called smear campaign by someone rejoining the club who had been told that about you, and that is why he left the club in the first place? That hurts. Why continue to give up your summers for a game you love if character assassination is a possible and probable consequence? (Edit: Probable is more accurate)

Maybe not Concorde anymore, but the desire to get
back in the air is strong.

Back when I worked at the Flying School, my boss and very good friend James Pyne and I had gone for a pint with our colleague and good friend Chris Gilbert at my local pub. James was a fully fledged Flying Instructor at that point, just 20 years old. Within a year he had become one of Europe's youngest (if not the record holder) private jet Captains. My two loves were cricket and flying, his was flying. Sole focus. He was not only one of my best mates but my instructor too. And he told me how he used to represent the county at Rugby, but ultimately chose to focus on his flying.

They both knew I badly wanted to be a pilot, so James asked me: "What would you rather be, a professional pilot or a professional cricketer?" and I remember the look on his face when I said "cricketer". I'm not sure if he was disappointed because I hadn't chosen flying and he knew I'd make a good pilot, or because I'd picked cricket despite realistically not having the talent to make it past club cricket. Incidentally, Chris also chose to concentrate on his flying and after a few years of hardship is now flying big jets for British Airways. They both had a focus on one thing, one ultimate goal, and they got it. I had too many goals. It wasn't possible for me to become a professional cricketer, professional pilot, zookeeper and TV presenter. The lesson is that clearly I never wanted one of them badly enough to make it my sole focus. Perhaps it is time to pick flying over cricket.

Either way, it's still a "what-if" moment, had I chosen to concentrate on finishing my pilots licence I could have been writing a different blog post from the crew rest area in an Airbus A380. As it is, I find myself thinking about the time I knocked an international player's off-stump out of the ground (Dave Warner, in case I haven't mentioned it) in a meaningless net-session and convincing myself I made the right decision because of everything else I've done in my life as a result of cricket.

Training with the England team
at the SCG in 2018, here with
Captain Eoin Morgan

That wonderful sport that took me across the world, introduced me to my wife, gave me an identity, gave me opportunities, gave me friends, gave me a new way of seeing the world. They say travel broadens the mind, I definitely found myself as a result of travelling for cricket. 22 years is a long time. In fact, I was only 20 years old when I first travelled for cricket. Cricket owes me nothing, I owe cricket everything, which makes the decision to walk away from it a little bit more difficult.

It's not just the playing of the game, you want to be competitive, you want to win. I haven't been part of a team that wins regularly since I left Bovey Tracey in 2012, and I would give anything to play another "last season" for Bovey. Let's face it, they aren't going to fly me over and look after me to rediscover the love of the game (Edit: I mean, they can if they want! I'd happily play either 1st or 2nd XI to fit if necessary!). The atmosphere, the facilities, some of the people, I miss playing for Bovey. It's difficult to realise your body is giving up on you, it's always been an upward curve from age 10 to age 32, but the plateau is nearing and the recovery times are doubling. Physically, and mentally. As much as my body is breaking down, I think it's fair to say my mind is too. It was hard enough bowling that weekend and as mentioned I came to the decision then, which was cemented later in the afternoon when I walked out to bat at 3 and was walking back not long after with my first duck in 3 seasons.

The following week I bowled like someone who had never heard of cricket, and I knew for sure my time was up. Yet, cricket has a funny way of drawing me back in. Round 10 comes along and on a stinking hot 42°C day in Rouse Hill, after fielding for nearly 50 overs I came out to bat and hit an unbeaten 100 off 78 balls. Has it done enough to keep me in for next year...? Probably not, but it has at least brought back some confidence and love for the game that was conspicuous in its absence in the first few weeks of 2019. The fairytale finish of winning a Premiership was never going to happen this year. So unless Bovey come calling, it's "Over and time, gentlemen."

My final six... Gareth Newman sent this picture to me, of me hitting him for six
in our loss to Warringah in the final game of 2019 for MUCC. Cheers, mate!
Photo Credit: Rick Archer

Going Back In Time To A Machine You Could Go Back In Time On!

With my Grandfather on the flight deck of Concorde Alpha Charlie, G-BOAC
at Manchester Airport. This aircraft was the "Flagship of the Flagships".

LOOKING BACK AT WHAT SHOULD BE THE FUTURE

For 27 years you could take off from London at 11:00am local time and land in New York at 9:30am
local time. You could have breakfast in London, lunch in New York and (theoretically but hardly practically) be back in London for dinner. You could cross the Atlantic ocean in a little over 3 and a half hours while sipping champagne, eating caviar and mixing with people you had only ever seen photographs of in tabloid newspapers and magazines. As of October 2003 the same journey takes 7 or 8 hours depending on the Jetstream and you are eating standard airline food whilst mixing with 300 holidaymakers on your way across the pond. From 1976 until 2003 you had another option, although the possession of deep pockets or copious amounts of luck were required to do so, but you could have done something that no-one today can; flown supersonically on Concorde.

G-BBDG, or "Delta Golf", now the showpiece at
Brooklands Museum in Surrey. Shown here in 2012 with
an Emirates A380 flying overhead from Heathrow. 

In a world that focuses on profits, efficiency and capacity over technical achievement we have lost two vehicles whose contribution to the world can hardly be measured; Concorde and the Space Shuttle. 2021 is the 18th anniversary of Concorde's final year in service with British Airways and Air France, and 10 years since Space Shuttle Atlantis landed for the final time after several forays into Low Earth Orbit. How has it come to pass that we are so focused on money that we take steps backwards when it comes to technological achievement? Human endeavour had always advanced us technologically from the invention of the wheel through to landing on the moon, or flying at twice the speed of sound, whereas the second half of the 20th Century and the start of the 21st Century has seen our development stunted in at least two cases.

G-BOAA had her wings cut, travelled by boat and across fields
to her final destination here at East Fortune, near Edinburgh, Scotland.
This aircraft performed the very first scheduled Concorde passenger
flight from London to Bahrain on 21st January 1976.

I am not for a second suggesting we are totally going backwards. A computer the size of a small office would have been used in the 1960's to do what you can do in the palm of your hand today (I was referring to smart phones, but you can interpret that however you like!). Look at the advancement of cars, trains, television, radio, phones, computers and of course aircraft. The magnificent Boeing 787 and the gargantuan Airbus A380 are certainly huge achievements however they are in a different class to what used to be the pinnacles of flight, which now languidly lay as museum pieces across the globe. Even after 18 years we are left asking why it takes 7 or 8 hours to complete a journey that it used to only take 3 and a half hours? It is a fact that Airbus as we know it wouldn't exist if it was not for Concorde, and that of course includes the A380.

Yes, there were only ever 20 Concordes built; Yes, only 14 of these ever saw airline service; Yes,

This Air France Concorde is displayed on stilts at Paris
Charles De Gaulle airport, visible here from our Exeter-bound
Flybe Dash 8. It is almost criminal that these aircraft were grounded
when they were. Why are there no replacements? Why are we left
to bumble across the Atlantic in 7 or 8 hours?

only the British and French national airlines flew* Concorde whereas at the time of writing BA has 12 A380's and Air France 10 examples in a worldwide fleet of 229. So what? Mass transport is all well and good, and pioneering in its own way but why has there never been a successor to Concorde? When Concorde stopped flying in 2003 it was with a backdrop of a world recovering from a global downturn in air travel as a result of SARS, 9/11 and financial constraints. Whenever I am asked why Concorde stopped flying it is impossible to give a single reason, and most point to the crash of an Air France Concorde in 2000. Incidentally, the ONLY fatal accident involving Concorde in 27 years of service.

* One of the British Airways Concordes briefly had a stint with Singapore Airlines down one side, and briefly they were utilised by Braniff in the USA, but for the vast majority of their airline service they were exclusive to BA and AF.

12 years after this aircraft last flew, she sat forlornly in a corner
of Heathrow Airport in 2012. G-BOAB was never modified after the
July 2000 accident in Paris involving an Air France Concorde

One reason that seems to surprise people the most is that more than half of the regular Concorde passengers between New York and Europe were killed in the terrorist attacks on the World Trade Center in 2001. People forget Concorde was a business tool. In Britain and France she (he, if you're French) was not just a machine but a part of your national conscience, like she had a soul. The mere fact we refer to Concorde as "he/she" and not "it" is testament to that. You would say "I flew on Concorde" as opposed to "I flew on an A380". You just couldn't view Concorde in the same way you view an A320 or 747 which flies around today.

The nation of Britain collectively shed a tear when the very last Concorde flights took place in October and November 2003, akin to mourning a relative who had passed away. Whether your outlook was that Concorde was retired far too early or that it was only brought forward by a few

The original British prototype Concorde first flew in 1969,
and embarked on a stringent test programme. This aircraft was
used for a sales tour of the Far East and Australia in 1972. G-BSST
or 002 now resides at RNAS Yeovilton in Somerset at the
Fleet Air Arm Museum.

years it doesn't change the fact that we sit here in 2018 with no way to transport multiple people at supersonic speeds. A few proposals have been made and allegedly there are supersonic business jets in the pipeline, however never in the history of aviation has the development stalled for so long. From the first powered flight in 1903 to the first scheduled airline service in 1914, to the first fighter plane in 1915. The jet engine was invented in the 30's and by the 1940's the first Jet Airliner had been built, and entered service in the 1950's. The first supersonic airliners to take to the sky were the Tupolev Tu144 in 1968 and then Concorde in 1969. The Tu144 was to have a vastly more problematic life than Concorde, whose arrival into passenger service in 1976 heralded a new era for aviation. Yet for 27 years Concorde remained the only supersonic airliner in service until one day there were none.

The production lines closed up as the 1970's "oil crisis" led to all airlines but BA and AF cancelling

The rear of F-BTSD's engines at Paris Le Bourget
in 2010. Concorde's Olympus 593 engines were the most
efficient in the world while flying at twice the
speed of sound.

their orders. Somewhat ironically, the next Concorde to be built would have been a B-Spec model with more efficient engines, variable geometry components on the wings and tweaks made to the shape. The next stage in Supersonic Airliner development has been shelved for over 40 years.

The economic reasons that no-one wanted to take a punt on more Concordes are well documented and frankly I believe the world is sick of money being the deciding factor in everything. The Apollo programme was stopped due to money, Concorde was stopped due to money, the Space Shuttle was stopped due to money; But it won't end there! The world is trillions and trillions of dollars in debt. TO WHOM?! And if the world is in debt and continues to revolve, why doesn't someone take the initiative and use the money they have today to advance mankind for the future? Why doesn't a Donald Trump or Bill Gates finance the next generation Supersonic Airliner to advance human and technological achievement and really put their mark on the history books? Sir Richard Branson is doing just that with Virgin Galactic, however his "attempts" to obtain Concorde and keep them flying were propaganda to put it politely. I have severe criticisms about how he went about things with Concorde towards the end however you cannot deny that he is a visionary, an entrepreneur, and putting his money where his mouth is with Virgin Galactic.

I, for one, would love to experience leaving Sydney, Australia and arrive in Los Angeles, California 6 hours later in a state of confusion about why it is the day before I left. I would love to be sat in Devon again as I used to more than 18 years ago, watching at 5pm as another supersonic journey from New York descended towards London. As it is, I am left to wistfully watch as QF11, a Qantas A380 that wouldn't exist if it were not for Concorde, climbs out over the East coast of Australia to embark on its 13 hour journey. Progression is a little more than a dream, for now at least.

Serena Williams? Political Correctness? An Oxymoron, From A Breath Of Fresh Air

In a world where Baa-Baa is now a "Rainbow Sheep" and where your kids sports days are bereft of winners because everyone has "participated" it's refreshing to know that there are still people out there willing to throw Political Correctness out of the window and tell a good old fashioned joke, without diluting the target at all for fear of causing offence. There are many comedians out there who have made a career on telling edgy jokes; Jimmy Carr, Jim Jefferies, Frankie Boyle to name but three. However, there's only really one who achieves it as a reflection of their true personality; Kevin Bloody Wilson. Well, actually two, because his daughter Jenny Talia From Australia does it too. The apple clearly doesn't fall far from the tree and there's something about that uniquely Australian personality that makes you just want to get to know them as people, not just entertainers.

Last weekend Serena Williams lost the US Open Final to Naomi Osaka in New York, and the Japanese youngster's memorable victory was overshadowed by Serena Williams' atrocious behaviour. Arguing with a sports official will never make them reverse a decision, especially when you use an irrelevant argument to try to reason why they should. Docked a point for receiving coaching (which is against the rules and the coach admitted to coaching), Serena said that because "I have a daughter, I would never cheat" as if that was some sort of justification? OK, well I have a sister so therefore the umpire shouldn't give me out in the next game of cricket I play. Baseless argument.

Serena smashed her racket and received a code violation, correctly. She then aimed a diatribe at the Umpire, including calling him a liar. Questioning an official's integrity is against the rules in tennis, so she was docked another point. Correctly. Her behaviour warranted all of the sanctions she received, yet somehow it was "sexist" to give her this punishment. What a crock of shit. Grow up, Serena. Perhaps show that daughter of yours that throwing tantrums gets you nowhere.

The "offending" cartoon

The Herald Sun released a cartoon of Serena Williams jumping on her racket and throwing a tantrum, while the umpire in the background asked Osaka "Can you just let her win?" and it was denounced as racist by "self-appointed censors" around the world, including JK Rowling, author of the Harry Potter series. Racism is defined as "the belief that all members of each race possess characteristics, abilities, or qualities specific to that race, especially so as to distinguish it as inferior or superior to another race or races." I cannot see what was racist about this cartoon. It depicted Serena's tantrum, it was a caricature which always exaggerates a persons features. If it is racist to depict one's features, it is racist for the person to even have them. A ridiculous argument, right? Perhaps the only mistake in the cartoon was to omit Osaka's features and give her blonde hair. Racist?

The Herald Sun stood up for their
cartoonist, which is refreshing!

These days people throw racism in front of anything. JK Rowling shared a post about someone in parliament being told to "go back to Italy" and denounced it as racist. I am an English man living in Australia, I have had people tell me to go back to England. Is that racist? Frankly, no it isn't. Being English is a nationality, not a race. Is drawing a cartoon of Serena Williams throwing a tanty racist? No it isn't, unless you were to suggest she threw that tantrum because of her race, or that you are
superior to her because of her race. That's where people get confused. Here in Australia if you call an aboriginal a "coon" then you're a racist, but it's also the name of a brand of cheese. It's also the surname of some people I know. Context is the key.

And so that leads me nicely to Kevin Bloody Wilson and Jenny Talia. Kev in particular has been labelled as a racist several times over the course of his 35 year career and strongly refutes the suggestion, and quite rightly. His best friend, Nigel, is a full-blooded indigenous Australian.

"Some of the best Aboriginal jokes I get, I get direct from Nigel. He tells it, it's piss-funny. I tell the same joke and I'm fuckin' racist!"

Historically, humour has been used to disarm some of the worst crimes imaginable. Telling a joke based on race is not necessarily racism, depending on the context of the joke, and the direction of it. The same joke can be hilarious if told to one person, but if told to someone who you know will take offence to it then it is wrong because you are trying to illicit a bad reaction, rather than laughter. Humour can disarm any joke, but only to the right audience.

During an appearance on Enough Rope with Andrew Denton in the late Noughties, Kev states: "Racism is born out of hate. If I was a racist I wouldn't have Aboriginal artwork on my guitar. I love Aboriginal artwork and for the most I love the culture. Hitler was a racist, and his stuff was born out of hate. None of the stuff I do is born out of hate, I'm just not that sort of person.... I can't see that what I do is racist... People make jokes about the differences."

Over the years millions of people have bought his albums, attended his shows and listened to his songs so clearly there is an audience for the material he produces. One of his more recent songs is called "Common Sense" and the lyrics could almost be written for the Serena Williams debacle, as well as the world today:

Common Sense ain't that common anymore.

Seems common sense is past tense, just like the dinosaur.

Political Correctness has got a lot to answer for,

Cos common sense ain't that common anymore.

Political Correctness. What a crock of shit.

If it's political, it ain't correct, those two words don't fuckin' fit!

Nor do military intelligance, friendly fire or Holy War,

Cos common sense ain't that common anymore.

And one section later in the song is particularly relevant:

"Racist", there's one overused word that's laced with toxic venom,

Spat out by every do-gooder and minority group when you don't agree with 'em!

With the advent of social media being at everyone's fingertips and people's default position being outrage, we're rapidly losing sight of the importance of enjoying our lives. I wrote a blog a few years ago about a time I was accused of racism, and I made the argument that there shouldn't even be categories of race; we're all human beings. The way to end racism is to stop dividing people into different racial categories, and see people as people whether they're black, white, brown, Christian, Hindu, Muslim, or whatever.

Smartphones allow people to express that instantaneous outrage on multiple platforms and removes the possibility of rational thought dictating a point of view rather than momentary emotion. So perhaps it's about time you relaxed a little bit, go to see Kev and Jenny in concert, and "Stick that fuckin' phone up ya fuckin' arse!"

Kevin Bloody Wilson and Jenny Talia

Editor's note: Thank you very much to Kevin Bloody Wilson and Jenny Talia. Kev has actually taken the time to read this and shared it on his Facebook page. It means a lot to me that he has shared this and you may well be one of the people who clicked on his link. Thank you for visiting, I hope you enjoyed my writing.


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Tasmania: What A Beautiful Part Of The Country

Better the (Tassie) Devil you know

It is always exciting to travel to new destinations and take in new sights, sounds and experiences. Usually I like to have a good idea about the places I travel to; to such an extent that if we were to suddenly get a huge cash injection via a lottery win (chances minimal, we don't play the lottery) I could plan a holiday around the USA with enough activity and destinations to last us a full year. So it was unusual for me to have nothing to do with planning our last holiday, and it turned out to be the best possible thing. Jess did an awesome job planning it all out, an because I had no real expectation of what to expect from Tasmania it blew me away with its beauty, and made me angry with a small but infamous part of its history.

All action at Hobart Airport

Our week started by flying to the beautiful, quaint little city of Hobart; the island state's capital, we visited Port Arthur Historic Site, explored Bruny Island, went up the centre of the state and out to the stunningly picturesque East Coast and made our way West to Cradle Mountain before flying home from Launceston, all the while taking in stunning scenery, beautiful wildlife and roads that are a dream for motorcyclists and road enthusiasts alike. 

Mt Wellington Lookout, with Hobart's
Tasman Bridge in the background

Hobart is not a big city by any means, but for me that adds to the charm. To be busy enough to be considered a city but only a short drive from countryside and peace is a great combination and when you add in the amount of water to the equation it makes for a great destination. Part of my wife's family moved to Tasmania many years ago, we caught up with them all over the weekend and it really was great to be able to do so after hearing so much about Hobart and its attractions. For me it was even better to see them in what was now their home territory, to be the ones who were visiting. Wineries, barbecues and spectacular surroundings; does it get any better? I hope it isn't too long before we head back to the Apple Isle.

Salamanca Markets.
Take note, Dad!

Salamanca markets are something else; Sydney has The Rocks markets and Salamanca was similar, with plenty of opportunity to pick up something of interest. The highlight of Hobart for me was a place called Ball and Chain Grill. Scotch Fillet with chips and a Schobers Shiraz, the perfect combination for any steak lover out there. It was so good that when we were looking for somewhere to go the following night with my brother-in-law and sister-in-law we looked all along the street at different options and went to Ball and Chain anyway! I'm not going to pretend that next time we visit Hobart I won't insist on going back there either.

The former Broad Arrow Cafe and Port Arthur
Memorial, site of Australia's worst massacre.

The visit to Port Arthur Historic Site was a mixed experience. Interesting as the historic importance of the site was to Australia's history as a British convict colony, I couldn't escape the thought that I may never have even heard of this place had it not been for the the massacre which took place on 28th April 1996, when Martin Bryant shot and killed 35 people and wounded 23. This terrible event was the catalyst for then Prime Minister John Howard to make sweeping changes to Australian gun laws which thankfully have prevented another massacre on Australian soil. All this came shortly after the Dunblane massacre in the UK, where similar changes were made to UK gun laws. The USA is a vastly different culture, but I found myself getting angry while at Port Arthur for thinking how the USA's ignorance is costing innocent lives. The same week we visited Port Arthur there was another massacre in the USA, and you can't help but feel it won't be too long before there's another. (NB: Overheard someone in the car park say "shotgun!" on the way back to the car... Probably not the best location to play that game!)

Port Arthur's penitentiary, part of the Historic site

That is a completely different topic, so back to the Historic Site; a former penal colony for the worst of the worst British convicts. The architecture of the prison itself, the houses and churches all mixed in with the modern entrance building was an interesting juxtaposition but it worked. A ferry ride was pleasant yet just the other side of a piece of land was a stretch of water which led to the South Pole. Any prisoner wishing to attempt a swimming escape, or even in a small boat? Good luck over the Southern Ocean. It was difficult to imagine the conditions they would have lived in back then, and the stories of people sent to prison for crimes ranging from stealing a loaf of bread to bestiality was just as disturbing as you might think.

Tasmania is far enough South to encounter penguins, and Bruny Island is a hotspot (or coldspot) for it. You need to catch a ferry to get across there, but it's worth the effort. As well as beaches, lookouts and more great roads there are a variety of foods and drinks to sample; oysters, wines, beers, ciders, chocolates and honey to name a few. The day we went to Bruny it started out grey, windy, wet and miserable but grew into a sunny day with temperatures in the late 20's. On the journey back to Hobart we decided to give Mount Wellington a go, and we got up there to be greeted by very strong winds and temperatures of just 5°C! If you can brave it, the views are astounding; down across the whole of Bruny Island, the whole of Hobart and most of the southern Tasmanian countryside.

Wineglass Bay in
Freycinet National Park

From Hobart we picked up a camper van and headed North up the Midland Highway to Ross and across to the East coast at Coles Bay in Freycinet National Park, home to more extraordinary scenery. We are not hikers by any stretch, but the 50 minute trek from the carpark to the Wineglass Bay lookout is worth it, not just for the views at the end of Wineglass Bay, but the views on the ascent over Coles Bay. If you have time to explore further, there are many other walks you can take but we simply didn't have the time to explore too far as we had to head further up the East coast to St Helens via Bicheno and East Coast Natureworld. I don't need to review another zoo, I work at a pretty cool one, but it was interesting to see their view of a threatened species that we also look after at the Australian Reptile Park; the Tasmanian Devil. Being in their native part of the world, the love of this animal is just as heartfelt by the locals and makes the story of the thylacine (Tasmanian Tiger) even more tragic.

Our camper van and the stars
at St Helens

As much as I love Sydney and living in Australia's largest city, I am a country boy at heart. I love getting out to the countryside and being away from the hectic nature that comes with living in a city. Part of the reason for that is the ability to look up on a clear night and see infinitely more stars shining brightly in the night sky than you ever could from Sydney. The Milky Way was clearly visible with the naked eye, so I decided to have a go at some Astro-photography. Results attached to this blog from our campsite at St Helen's.

Our next day was a long day of driving with yet more astounding scenery. Through Scottsdale, onto Launceston, Exeter and Devonport (partially due to my roots in the Westcountry) we then descended onto a small place called Sheffield, renowned for murals across a multitude of buildings in the town. The history of the state is illustrated well across the town, as well as several nods to the Tasmanian Devil and thylacine, all under the backdrop of the beautiful Mount Roland, under which we stayed in Gowrie Park and had wallabies around the campsite just doing their own thing. The showpiece was to be Cradle Mountain, however the weather conspired against us and we never actually saw the mountain and had to admire the inside of a cloud at Dove Lake before relaxing at the campsite alongside more wallabies. From the images at the visitor centre it looks like a must for next time though!

One of the many murals in Sheffield, this one depicting
the thylacine, Tasmanian Devil and Mount Roland.

As we headed back to Launceston for the flight home we encountered one final piece of majestic road, and headed for yet another destination with a Westcountry link; Chudleigh. A small village, it had the feel of a Westcountry community and the grey weather gave us that extra authenticity as we stopped at the local store for breakfast. Upon arrival at Launceston Airport we had plenty to reflect on in such a short space of time and the camera showed I had taken 1,464 photos over the course of the week. A truly memorable holiday, made even better by being able to share part of the trip with family.

Leaving Launceston Airport at the end
of a wonderful trip to Tasmania

So much of the attention in Australia goes to the beaches and the sunshine of Queensland or Northern NSW, or to the big cities of Brisbane, Sydney, Melbourne, Adelaide and Perth. Tourist destinations like Port Douglas, Cairns, Gold Coast, or symbolic Australian destinations like Uluru are used to promote this wonderful nation, but you really are missing a trick if you never go to Tasmania, especially if you are British. It is still a very Australian state but intertwined with so much British history. It's not the hottest place, but our autumnal trip gave us plenty of t-shirt time. Part of me wants our next visit to be in winter, to see the glory of the state under a blanket of snow under a clear sky. There's a reason they call this the lucky country; being so isolated from the rest of the world, how lucky are we to have so many different locations with equal levels of beauty in such a diverse way.

The Milky Way

Not as big a place as the one in Devon

Tasmanian Devil. If you love these animals,
visit www.devilark.org.au

Devonport, at the end of the River Tamar. No, not Plymouth

Our home for the week, at the Round Mount Lookout

It's Given Me A Life, MUCC... And I Love The Club

An Open Letter To All Members Of 

Macquarie University Cricket Club

(Past, Present and Future)

Playing the final game of the year
in 3rd Grade in 2006/07

As I sit here writing on the cusp of my 100th match representing Macquarie University Cricket Club, I can't help but look back and be thankful for this great club and how it has shaped my life. My initial arrival to Australia in September 2006 was a strange introduction to the Lucky Country; the day before I left the UK the world was rocked by the news that Steve Irwin was dead, killed by a Stingray's barb to the heart. The day after I arrived I was taken to a Mazda track day at Oran Park, South West of Sydney, and was in the car with some bloke called Dick Johnson. Turns out he's a pretty big deal in V8 Supercars, of course I know that now as a Bathurst regular. He was given a phone, and was told that Peter Brock had just been killed (another Supercars legend, now the Bathurst 1000 trophy is named in his honour). The country was in mourning, but brighter things lay ahead for me and a life I could never have predicted has developed.

(L-R) Paul Chapman, Adrian Lulka, Livio Kriletic,
Warren Montford, Mark Fairlie, Paul Clift, Chris Anstiss,
Alex Gibson, Andrew Tosolini.

As a fresh-faced 20 year old from a small country town in Devon, arriving for my first training session in Australia at the Sydney Cricket Ground's indoor training centre was a surreal experience. At my hometown club, Bovey Tracey, our 2004 and 2005 overseas import Jules Stephenson of Gordon CC had told me if I wanted to improve my cricket I had to go to Australia. When first planning to go overseas to play cricket I was looking at South Africa or New Zealand, following the examples of team-mates who had done the same. Through Jules and Rod Hokin (our 2006 import, also from Gordon CC) it was arranged for me to come and play in Australia. Gordon had already filled their quota of non-Australian players, and they had a partnership with Macquarie University CC in the Sydney Shires competition. When Club President David Smith contacted me and organised the final details of my trip the excitement was palpable and the club colours of Green and Gold matched Bovey's. It goes without saying that I could not have dreamt at that stage that I would ever play 100 games for Macquarie University Cricket Club.

David Gracie. This man has been a friend and source of
wisdom (yes, really) to me for many years. And it all started
with a simple "F*** off!"

I also had no idea the number of new friends this club would provide for me. In 2006/07 the club had a superb culture, plenty of members who had been at the club for many years, and the esteemed history of the club spoke to me in a way I can't describe. I played in all 4 of the Shires grades that season as well as Under 24's, my Captains were all great; Louis Hanna in U24's, Greg Brown in 4th Grade, Paul McInnes in 3rd Grade, Kris Griffiths-Jones in 1st Grade and 2nd Grade, where I spent most of my time was led by Brent McNee (Roasty). Roasty and I had our moments that year, but with hindsight he put his all into batting and tried to lead by example. It's a lesson that sits well with me today. Perhaps my best mate through that first season was Andrew Tosolini, whose family made me very welcome and I remain grateful to them all for that.

Clyne Fernandes, always a huge
supporter during my time with MUCC

Paul Clift, Mark Fairlie, Simon Fairlie, David Gracie, Louis Hanna, Prashant and Pranish Rai, Muhilan Sriravindrarajah, Tim Hopkins, Craig Edwards, Warren Montford, Clyne Fernandes, Pete Saliba, David Smith, Warrick Folkard, Greg Brown, Steve O'Reilly, ... There are so many more names that are enshrined into the history of the club, modern history at least, that I was fortunate enough to play alongside in that first season. Naturally I was closest to Glen "Linus" McFadden, my landlord and 2nd Grade team-mate, and his family. While statistically I didn't have a particularly great season, the lessons I learnt both on and off the field were invaluable.

The only Under 24's side in MUCC history to make the
Grand Final. An honour to Captain this side.

Due to other personal circumstances, I was lucky enough to accept an invitation from new President Paul Clift to return in 2009/10 and even more fortunate to be awarded the honour of Captaining our Under 24's side. Naturally there were new faces, and the feeling before the season started was that we had a side capable of going all the way. Pranish Rai, Curtis Ford, AJ Gray, Jairam Shyam, Chris McPherson, Prashant Rai, Jehan Bilimoria, Tim Morrow, Greg Denlow, Aaron Yeomans, Andrew Tosolini... What a squad! As I said, it was an honour to lead that side and we made history.

We had never even won a Finals series match in the history of the club, let alone made the Grand Final. We beat Auburn with a clinical display in the Qualifying Final, we beat Lindfield in the most nerve-wracking fashion in the Semi Final, but we fell short in the Grand Final. It was pleasing to top-score with 46 in that game, and pleasing that we did better than anyone else before but I still regularly think to myself that was the one that got away; an Under 24's Premiership as Captain. 2nd Grade also made finals that year for the first time in many years, but fell at the first hurdle. Pete Saliba, what a guy to have around the club. 2009/10 exceeded my experiences of 2006/07, especially in my personal life as I met the woman who is now my wife. My future lay in Australia, and as a one-club man I knew where that would mean my cricket would be.

Paul Clift and Glen "Linus" McFadden, my Groomsmen
whom I would not know if it was not for MUCC.

Between 2010 and my permanent move to Australia in 2013, much changed at MUCC including but not limited to the club colours. In line with Macquarie University, the club had to change from green and gold to red and grey, with a new leaf logo. Pete Saliba had now taken over as President, and not 24 hours after I arrived in Sydney he called me and asked me to be on the committee. I gladly accepted, this club has given me so much I felt it would only be right for me to contribute. The very survival of the club seems to face annual peril, and this became clearer to me upon joining in with discussions but although many of the stalwarts of the club were no longer involved, of the remaining ones it's the same individuals that are making the effort for the club to survive.

The man I respect most in my
cricketing life; David Elphick of
Bovey Tracey CC. My first coach, mentor,
and biggest supporter. Thank you, Dave!

A 3rd Grade Premiership in 2013/14 was a superb effort, however none of the top four Grades have made it to a Grand Final since. Save for a couple of Finals appearances, it has been a struggle for the club on the field in the last few seasons. However, the Club itself is still so special. Of course, it would be great to have Premierships every year however these struggles can put things into perspective. I hope the Club is as important to the rest of the members as it is to me, and I hope everyone else has the desire I do to make our Club great again despite all the hurdles that are continually placed in our way by various sources. It is vital that the members stick together to see the club through tough patches as it is the key to success.

Captain of 2nd Grade in 2013/14 and
2014/15 was a huge challenge

At Bovey Tracey Cricket Club, my dream since I was 14 years old was to have my name on all three columns of our Honours Board; President, Chairman and 1st XI Captain. By the time I left in 2012 aged 26 that obviously hadn't happened, but at MUCC I have a similar dream to fulfill. Having previously Captained Under 24's and 2nd Grade, in August 2017 I was appointed 1st Grade Captain and Vice President, two roles which I see as a huge privilege. My vision for the Club is to get us back to being a large group of united members in the same way as I remember in 2006/07 and 2009/10.  I believe the Club must come first over and above any personal expectations. Club Over Self Every Time has to be the ethos of everyone at the club. This is the only way that we can raise the Club to the heights of Premiership winners again.

Presentation Night 2017: Amrish Bhatia presents me
with a Pewter for my 2016/17 season.

From a personal point of view, I had my best season to date in 2016/17 with two hundreds and three fifties. One of the hundreds was scored on the day I found out my paternal Grandmother had passed away, against Auburn, in a match that ended as a tie. I remain very good friends with Moe Dewji from Auburn, this game cemented that respect. My Captain that season was Amrish Bhatia, whose
support and encouragement throughout his time as 2nd Grade captain was absolutely invaluable. It is almost impossible to state, guess or quantify the friendships this club has given to me and many others who have worn the shirt.

This club has given me the life I have today. While that may not be the case for all of you, I think it is important to understand the value of what the club has given you and put something back in. How many of your team-mates are now your mates outside of cricket too? How many people have you met through cricket that you would not know otherwise? The time is now for you to get involved with the club. Believe me, the hard work is worth it when we all eventually win together but that will be so much more difficult if you just want to rock up at the weekend and play. Please pour your heart and soul into this club, I promise when you do the effort will be worth it. We're building something here this season, and it could be the start of something great. I want you to be a part of it.

I am so thankful for the existence of MUCC. It's given me a life, Macquarie University CC... and I love the club.

Proud to be 1st Grade Captain of a Club that has given me the life I know today