EMMET O'RIORDANgoes down under to avoid the cold and arrives in Perth to see the Ashes hot up
Hacks' backs the focus of three-minute angels
YOU MIGHT have read the odd journalist complain of facilities while doing their job down the years, but you certainly won’t here in Perth. Lunch is delivered in a big, cake-sized box with exotic salads and a cheeseboard, while last Friday saw us dining on fillet steak, so tender the plastic knife glided through it.
And to cap that on Saturday we were treated to the tender touches of the ‘Three-Minute Angels’, two massage therapists who worked hard on aching hacks’ backs as they worked.
I never knew typing was so stressful on the body.
You were right there Mike
FOR MOST Irish people, their first image of Perth came from Murphy’s Australia, the RTÉ documentary first aired over 20 years ago. The beautiful people, impossibly tanned with gleaming white teeth, and that was just Mike.
What Murphy portrayed was a land of milk and honey, grown fat on the wealth of mining, a modern-day Nirvana where ostentatious displays of wealth were the norm. Big house, big car – not good enough, where’s you boat, mate? Well the Western Australia capital has seen booms and busts in the meantime and is presently on the crest of the wave as the skyline drips with cranes and the million dollar (€750,000) apartments are being advertised in property sections of newspapers.
The cafés and the bars throb day and night, with money looking no object to the bold and the beautiful of this majestic city.
Remind you of anywhere? Ireland of 10 years ago maybe, but with something to back it up.
As one miner told me, each trainload of iron ore that leaves the mine for China is worth $AUS three million (€2.25 million) in pure profit to the company and as he put it “They never stop”.
Shane, Adam, Mike and Boon-o
AS A journalist you’re always looking for the line, the one that suits you and your readers even if it has to be bent ever so slightly.
Well thanks to Bono on Saturday night, my work was made easy. Forging a link between cricket and U2, who played the first of two sold-out shows at the Subiaco Oval in Perth, might have taken a bit of work.
Not a bit of it, as Bono lobbed up a dolly that even I could snaffle.
Latching on to the mood of most in the crowd, the lead singer compared the band to cricketers, with Adam Clayton named as the Shane Warne of the four piece (supermodel girlfriends, perhaps) and Larry Mullen to wicketkeeper Adam Gilchrist as the man behind the sticks. Warming to the theme and seeming to show far more knowledge than a backstage prompt he turned to The Edge: “The ultimate technician, the repository of all knowledge, the Mr Cricket of Rock n’Roll, our very own Mike Hussey, The Edge”.
Of course that left the main man himself. Would it be the Little Master, Sachin Tendulkar? No couldn’t be, he’s God-like but no God like the Indian legend and anyway this was an Australian crowd.
Well here’s Bono’s take on the cricketer he might have been: “Now, who am I? I know it’s hard, I was trying to talk myself into being Allan Border but I think I’m more of a David Boon, it’s the truth,” he said comparing himself to the schooner-sized Tasmanian batsman.
At this the crowd launched in to the Boooo-n chant followed by a chorus of Boony, Boony before Bono whipped them into a frenzy.
“We’re all on the same side here tonight, we’re united in passion, we’re united in high-mindedness and we share an overwhelming desire to stick it to the Brits!” Cue wild cheers, before Bono decides to frame The Edge.
“This man carries a British passport, the Barmy Army is here.” as the first chords of I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For rang out.
Last night’s show was U2’s last of the year. We can’t confirm just yet if Bono tried to match Boon’s alleged feat of drinking 52 stubbies of beer on the trip from Australia. Doubt it myself, though.
Perth peelers draw a line
THE POLICE kept a low-key presence throughout the Test in Perth, but move quickly if they spot something getting out of hand.
On Saturday as Australia were piling on the runs towards setting England a fourth-innings total, a couple of likely lads infiltrated the Barmy Army. The political-nature of their songs stuck out from the usual harmless ditties that accompany Bill Cooper’s trumpet playing (think the themes from Skippy and Neighbours) and the Perth Peelers quickly swooped.
Pleading their innocence and imploring their fellow Engerland fans that they were only having a bit of a sing-song and a laugh didn’t wash and they were turfed out.
Beer me
THE IMAGE of the typical Aussie beer drinker has always been a stereotype carefully exploited by the major brewers in the country to sell their product aboard.
Paul Hogan was used by Fosters at the height of his Crocodile Dundee fame, while the singlet-wearing Aussie bloke who just likes it cold and wet has always seemed to sum up that quantity and not quality was the key. But nowadays your Aussie beer drinker is a lot more discerning. Just ask Dave Cribbins, the brewhouse manager at Little Creatures in Fremantle.
“I think your average Aussie beer drinker’s palette has improved because of the choice now available. Some of the bigger brands of beer should be buried in the ground, if you ask me,” says Cribbins.
In just over 10 years, from a base in a couple of former America’s Cup boatsheds, the brewery has grown to rival the big boys and now proudly sits at number three on the list as Australia’s biggest independent brewery.
The brewery, gift shop and restaurant has become one of the top tourist attractions in Western Australia. And you can even buy it Ireland.
