My Tour

How do you best describe the Tour de France? The three week extravaganza unlike anything else. 198 riders traversing over 3,000km of French countryside. From Corsica to Mont-Saint-Michel, Mont Ventoux to Alpe-d'Huez, the 100th running of La Grande Boucle features many of France's biggest cities and most famous climbs and towns.

So instead of telling stories you could read in the countless books written about the Tour, or giving you predictions that you can read anywhere and everywhere, I thought I'd put it simply, because to me the Tour is.....

- the tete de le course, the poursuivants and the peleton

- the devil on the roadside

- sweeping shots of 14th century castles and chateaus

- Paul Sherwan and Phil Liggett

- the red kite/flamme rouge

- Australian media wondering why Cadel is 78th after one stage

- the official Tour guide

- Gabriele Gate and the taste of the Tour

- memories of legends like Merckx and Coppi
- the drug cynics

- Mike Tomolaris

- the Rue de Rivoli and Place de la Concorde

- the Col du Tourmalet, d'Aspin, de Peyresourde and d'Aubisque

- the rest day in Gap or Pau
- lead out trains and domestiques
- the neutral, feeding and call of nature zone
- Matt Keenan warming the seat with style

- 'crackling over race radio'

- the Manx Missile taking off

- green, white and polda-dot jerseys

- a Frenchman winning on Bastille Day

- the Col du Telegraph, Col du Galibier and Col de la Croix-de-Fer

- my wife now loving this time of year
- the crowds parting just in time
- the Vendee, the Massif Central and the Loire
- the sunflowers
- recalling Indurain and Abdoujaparov, my earliest Tour memories

- watching the 6pm highlights even though you watched the stage

- the memory to Fabio Casartelli and Tom Simpson
- green, white and polda-dot jerseys

- everyone becoming a cycling expect overnight

- intermediate sprints and Cat-4 climbs
- 'heads of state'

- the grupetto over Hors categorie climbs

- famous ski stations like Peyragudes, Luz Ardiden, Arcalis and Briançon

- a team sport for an individual winner

- an Australian team at the Tour de France

- the Basque orange in the Pyrenees

- Cofidis, Euskaltel-Euskadi and Lampre

- everything you can want from a three week sporting event

Most importantly, the Tour de France is where one of Australia's greatest sporting stories was told. Vive le Tour!

Passing the baton

Longevity; that mythical, illusive and once cherished facet of sport. It sat alongside loyalty and talent in the sporting pantheon of must haves. Those building blocks were the cornerstones for the success that the likes of Ted Whitten and Reg Gasnier had. They personified loyalty and longevity.

As sports fans we embody these traits. We bleed black and white, purple, red and blue, green and every other colour that represents our sporting teams. We would rather donate a kidney than cheer for Collingwood or Manly. We feel betrayed when players change teams, switch codes or move countries. Many of us think, often wrongly so, that these players owe the club and the game. Their decisions should be made not in their own best interests, but the best interests of the game.

But in the sporting world we now reside, longevity has taken a back seat to the commercial reality. Loyalty has been replaced by player's growing desire for success. We criticise players for chasing the dollars, maybe fairly so, but we are often guilty of a mob mentality when a player moves for no other reason than to succeed. Success, the very motivation that drives all people, not just sports people.

                                                                     Noah Graham/NBAE/Getty Images

All of which leads to Friday's game 7 of the NBA Finals. The scene for the ultimate display of everything I've just mentioned. Loyalty and longevity against the desire to win.

On one hand: Tim Duncan and Greg Popovich. They are the epitome of loyalty, trust and friendship, in a league of commercialism and money. For 15 years they have stood side by side. The player nicknamed 'The Big Fundamental' and the coach whose press conferences are enjoyable more for the lack of words than the auto-generated, publicity minded responses we are so used to.

On the other hand: LeBron James. King James. A player the likes we have never seen. On a team that was forced not forged. In a city where loyalty, especially amongst the fans, is hard to come by.

San Antonio is a small market team. A team built from the ground up, a la Storm and Geelong. Where the coach respects the players as much as the players respect the coach. Where Tony Parker is as likely to be scorned at as Patty Mills.

Miami is a big team, in a big market. Where Justin Bieber wears leather shirts and sunglasses indoors. Where expectations are as high as the plastic surgery bills in the crowd. They are expected to win and they promised as much three years ago.

Duncan and Pop are unique in professional sport. A nostalgic, romantic idea of a bygone era that we may only see once in a generation.

LeBron James is a statistical and physical anomaly. He passes like Magic, rebounds like Bird, defends like Rodman and can score like Jordan.

So as the clock ticked passed two minutes left and the margin was two, the casual supporter, like me, was torn. As I wrote last week we all want to witness greatness. Here in game 7 were two very different types of greatness. Tim Duncan and the Spurs; the old school, the consummate professionals, the under rated; versus LeBron and the Heat; the new school, the villain/hero, the showtime.

Jesse D. Garrabrant/NBAE/Getty Images

I wanted LeBron to win. Not for his legacy. Not because I wanted the Heat to win. But because he deserved it for one of the single greatest all-round seasons of our generation.

I wanted Duncan to win. I wanted him to win for the credit he deserves. For the credit his team deserves, for his team mates, and for Pop.

It was only fitting then, that as time wound down on one of the greatest finals in recent memory, that Duncan and LeBron, forever linked, would decide the outcome.

So when Duncan missed the four foot hook shot he has made thousands of times (then missed the tip in), it was only fitting that LeBron took, and made, the next shot, not only winning the game, but silencing the critics and putting an end to this story.

In was as if Duncan had foreseen this coming. A prophet, forecasting his own demise. "This is gonna be your league in a little while. I appreciate you giving us this year." Duncan said after his Spurs beat LeBron's Cavaliers in the 2007 finals.

6 years later, it is his league. LeBron James is the champion, Tim Duncan is the legend.

Walking in a sporting wonderland

The days are getting darker and colder as we inch towards the winter solstice (June 21). Leaving work in the dark is becoming routine and twilight football now feels like night time football. We struggle through bye rounds in both codes; while south Londoners enjoy strawberries and cream and the French enjoy their champagne cycling.

Given all the hours of darkness it feels only appropriate that we use this time productively to view as much cricket, rugby union, golf, cycling, F1, soccer, tennis, basketball, ice hockey and whatever else we can find.

So with almost three months of winter ahead of us, it's time to take stock and get a little giddy at what's to come.

The Majors: US Open June 13-16, Open Championship July 18 - 21, PGA Championship August 8 - 11

David Graham: In the company of Hogan & Trevino

It is only apt that we start with the current event on our global sporting tour. At the very course where Australian David Graham played one of the finest rounds of gold Ben Hogan had ever seen. Where there are no flags on the sticks, but wicker baskets. At the course where the aforementioned Bob Hogan won the US Open in 1950 the year after being hit by a bus. The same Merion East where Lee Trevino beat Jack Nicklaus in 1971 in an 18 hole playoff (Nicklaus was runner up to Trevino four times in majors).

This will be a test of the accurate golfer as much as the strong golfer. It will be a trip down memory lane, with the US Open switching from its traditional big open club to the smaller, less 'convenient' venue. If the rain stays away this will be a test for all golfers including the 8 Aussies!

The Ashes: July 10 - 14, July 18 - 22, August 1 - 5, August 9 - 13 and August 21 - 25

Ignore the form, David Warner Root-ing incident and all the fanfare in the build up and relish the thought of the Ashes, test cricket in its purest, finest form. Be it 5-0, 2-1 or 2-2, it's the Ashes, and we get the pleasure of watching, dissecting and discussing every decision, run and tweet that happens on tour. As Michael Clarke's back crumbles from supporting the weight of the Aussie batting line up, we will turn to Richard Hind's 'real openers'; Chris Rogers and Ed Cowan. These are openers with opening the betting foremost on their mind. Taking the shine off the new ball, lowering the moral of the opposing team and striving for a run rate of 2 an over. And while our bowling stocks might not have Warne, Gillespie or Kasprowicz McGrath, there is more than enough quality there to cover the stress fracture or two we pick up during the series.

And the good news if we lose? We only have to wait three months to get the urn back.

The Lions Tour: June 22 & 29, July 6

Oh we miss John....

Being a naive country boy from Tassie in 2001, where rugby was foreign to most, I never understood this tour. To me it was just a guise for the in form English team to tour once more.

Fast forward to today and the almost child like excitement of some of my co-workers. Between that and the selling out of tour games I have come to realise how big this tour is, and not just for the ARU bank account. Unlike 12 years ago there is no Johnny Wilkinson, but for that matter there isn't a George Gregan or Matt Burke, and there isn't much confidence from the locals.

But as with the Ashes, if we fail, the Super Rugby finals start at the end of July.


Tour de France: June 29 - July 21

Speaking of winter. The familiar site of Team Sky leading the way.

As you may have noticed earlier in the year I am rather fond of these three weeks. I don't cycle myself, I didn't ride more than any normal kid around the back yard and no one I knew particularly liked cycling. The origin of my fascination with the Tour is unknown, but what is known is that every July, France puts on the most viewed annual sporting event in the world.

If we thought last year was bad enough with the English bathing in Wiggin's and the Olympic success, then this year could be worse. With the Ashes, the Lions and Chris Froome all in ominous form, the English are as cocky as ever. Even so, this is the 100th running of the race that was founded to boost newspaper numbers and promises to be something special!

State of Origin: June 26 & July 17

Also known as rounds 2 and 3. As a Queensland supporter I can saw without doubt that the Maroons were thoroughly outplayed in game 1 and didn't deserve to win. That said, how someone can throw numerous pre-meditated punches to the head of an unsuspecting opponent and get away with it, before being glorified and applauded by the rest of his team mates, state and code supporters, goes to show why some think the NRL is so far behind the other codes, not in terms of the game itself, but its attitude and mentality.

We are surrounded by worthwhile causes such as 'one punch can kill', and live in a city where that week a young man was king hit for no reason, yet we say because this is Origin and he tackled dirty it's ok. Anyway, off the soap box now. Onto Suncorp Stadium for a Queensland win setting up the most fascinating game in 8 years.

World Cup Qualifier: June 18 (Confederations Cup 15-30th)

It won't quite be as dramatic as that night in November 2011 (still my number 1 sporting moment), but next Tuesday will shape the Australian sporting landscape for the next year. A win and we return to where many of us think we rightfully belong. However, we should not forget the achievement, nor the 32 years we waited for this back in 2006. It is still, as it was in those dreaded 5th place South American days, a tough process to get to the World Cup. As such, if we beat Iraq next week we should be grateful we are there.

Grand Prix's: British June 28 - 30, German July 5 - 7, Hungarian July 26 - 28, Belgium 23 - 25 August

A European summer wouldn't be complete without a lap around Silverstone or Spa. Two of the most famed races on the calendar book end the summer racing schedule (and the month long break). In what has been an exciting season, it is starting to look eerily similar to last year's final results, much to the disgust of my pre-season prediction. But anything can happen over the next few months, especially with another 8 races to come after this.

Wimbledon: June 24 - July 7

Is he smiling about winning or Andy crying?

Capping off our European vacation is the most fabled of all the events, Wimbledon. There are just as many questions as possibilities at the All England Club this year. Can Roger win one more? Will Nadal's knees hold up? Can Murray avenge the loss and tears of last July? Will Serena continue her amazing run after winning the French Open 11 years after her first win?

So many questions, but one thing is clear. On the night of June 30, we can celebrate the end of financial year in style by watching Wimbledon, the Tour and the British Grand Prix. Any money on Cavendish to win that day?

US Sports: NBA Finals & Stanley Cup - June

Spurs v Miami. The prince and the pauper. The glitz and glamour versus the tried and tested. The new big three versus the old big three. Patty Mills towel waving against Juwan Howard's high fives. This is the title that makes Tim Duncan one of the best five players ever or makes LeBron's season one of the greatest ever.

Currently it's 2-2 thanks to some Tony Parker heroics, two blow outs and the big three living up to their reputation today in San Antonio. As I wrote last week, the fan base is split between those that want to witness greatness in LeBron, or those that want to witness greatness in the Spurs 5 titles over 14 years.

Meanwhile game 1 of Stanley Cup just finished, becoming the fifth longest Stanley Cup game in history after going into triple overtime. Now I could go on about this but in a lockout shortened season, ice hockey deserves nothing more than a shortened mention.

We are witness

We all want to witness greatness. We want to tell our children and grandchildren that we were there for it. We want to tell stories of Bradman, Tulloch, Laver and Ian Stewart as our grandparents did. We want to replicate our parent's tales of Senna, Seve, Meninga and Magic.

It's why every new champion, number one draft, group 1 winner or first time major winner is the next big thing. It's the driving force behind the overuse of champion, legend, superstar and worst of all the greatest of all time in the media. It's the reason we compare Federer to Laver, Woods to Nicklaus, LeBron to Jordan, Phelps to Sptiz and Sugar Ray to Mayweather. We feel compelled to believe that we are watching something truly special. That we are witnessing will be something worth telling people about.

Is 17 in total better than the slam 7 years apart?

For this generation, my generation, it is why Federer, Woods, Vettel, Black Caviar, Warne and Messi are all so important. As grand slams, spring carnivals and world cups pass we hope once more that they can add to their list of accomplishments so our case strengthens, so that our stories to be retold get that little bit better. We don't want to tell our grand kids about the third best batsmen of the 2000's or the boxer who almost never lost. We want to tell them as we are walking along a fairway, "I saw Tiger Woods break Jack Nicklaus' major record". As we hit a volley back over the net we want to tell them about the great Roger Federer and how he made it to ten straight grand slam finals. As we bowl to them in the backyard we want to say how effortlessly Ponting scored or how far Warne spun it.

All of which leads to my point for today. When the Miami Heat take on the Indiana Pacers today it will test the theory of greatness, and it is only fitting that the man who we are all witness to is behind it.

Even before he was an NBA player, LeBron Raymond James was the next Michael Jordan. He was anointed King James before he'd won an MVP or a ring. As the years passed, the hype built, the stories unfolded and the man became more of a story than a player. But between the headlines, the disappointment (for some) and the fanfare, lurked one of the most talented and powerful athletes our generation, or any generation has seen. At 6' 8" (2.03m) and 250lb (113kg) he has the speed of Folau, the strength of Inglis and the touch of Federer.

Despite this, the only thing the sporting world focuses on, wrongly or rightly, are his titles. It's not his skill or talent, but the titles that many of us use to determine if he is the greatest of all time. In the same way Mark Webber is judged by his lack of world championships, not the fact he is one of only 3 Australian's to win a Grand Prix, let alone 9. It's Cadel Evans being criticised for a bad Tour after winning the year before. It's Sam Stosur 'crashing' out of the French Open in the third round. Deep down it's not that we are disappointed in the result, it's that we wanted to see them do so much more, so we could say we saw it.

How can we evaluate one against the other when we didn't see both?

If only we were to take a step back and enjoy what James, and all those like him, achieves every day. On the court we should marvel at Federer's technique and Nadal's precision, not wonder if their best days are behind them. This July we should be in awe of a Tour de France hero, the Australia II of our generation, instead of wondering why he isn't winning again. As Hawthorn and Geelong go about their winning ways we shouldn't compare them to the Lions, Hawks and Demons of old, but enjoy watching these teams at their peak, proving that there is something close to perfect football.

So tomorrow, when LeBron's Miami, take on my team from Indiana, do I side with the team I loosely follow, or do I side with the possibility of witnessing greatness? It is the same question we will all ask ourselves many times as a sports fan. And if you are anything like me, we all want to witness.

A tie is like kissing your sister

'A tie is like kissing your sister...'
Eddie Eedelatz, Navy football coach 1953

I wish the rest of that quote was known as it probably would make Eddie's place in history a little different. Scrolling through the post match interview's and press conferences of the Swans/Dockers and Storm/Sea Eagles game I didn't stumble across Eddie's famous phrase, but the crowd outside certainly knew it.

I attended my token Dockers game of the season when they visited Sydney on Saturday night, quietly confident of a win even given the injury list at the club. The game was an opportunity to go the SCG for the first time, to tick it off the sporting bucket list. The ground was everything I imagined minus to confusing arrangement of one exit after the game. From the Members Pavilion and Ladies Stand with the flags flying and the moon rising above them; to the famous names adorning the stands, the likes of Churchill, O'Reilly, Trumper and Brewongle (only non sportsman's name) proudly standing tall; to the list of Bloods members in the concourse. If you block out the construction work at one end you can appreciate what a ground this is, a perfect blend of old and new.

Saturday night marked a historic night for the Fremantle Football Club as they secured their first ever draw. Did it feel like a historic night? No! It felt like despair, hope, excitement, disappointment and relief all rolled into one. No sooner had the game finished than the 'what ifs' began (the biggest being what if the two old Fremantle supporters hadn't left when we were 27 points down to catch an early flight). What if Michael Walters hadn't been injured forcing Lyon to put Johnson down forward? What if Sam Reid, who couldn't catch a cold all year hadn't taken that mark? What if I hadn't convinced myself we would win the game with 12 seconds left?

It is a strange phenomenon the old draw. We live in a society that feels the need to force a result or create a winner. Yet here we are with neither. The AFL has never had the pressure that the NRL faced to implement extra time. Not even the 2010 Grand Final could change that sentiment (sorry Dad). On Saturday night as the siren sounded the crowd didn't know how to react. For the 22,546 in attendance it wasn't a win but it wasn't a loss. There was no song to sing, no high fives to be given and everyone would have left happier if there team had won.

Yet as I left the ground my own thoughts were echoed by those around me. Dockers and Swans fans alike weren't complaining about the draw. Most were simply relieved their team hadn't lost, not that they didn't win. They were talking about what could have been, what might of happened, what didn't happen and of course what should of happened.

On the way home as the bus wound down Oxford Street I realised how fortunate I was to witness a draw. Before Saturday night Fremantle's win loss record was 170 wins and 233 loses. It had taken them 404 games to get a draw. On top of that there is only a draw every 95 games in the AFL.

Then before I could finish my story the Storm and Manly followed suit. At 8-8 the likelihood of a draw was slim given they still had golden point. Even heading into golden point at 10-10 I was still confident of a result, given that in the 72 games that have ever gone to golden point 61 have had a result and only 11 have ended in a draw. Of the 61 games 14 have been decided by a try, 7 by a penalty and 40 by a field goal. Even starker is the fact that the last 21 matches that have gone to golden point have been decided off the boot and not through a try.

The worst thing with golden point is that you spend the whole time worrying about your team not losing than you are about them winning the game. This goes against everything we should be doing as a sports fan. As Gus Gould points out, it doesn't seem fair that a team that looses in golden point gets the same points as a team that gets beaten by 50.

On this night at least I didn't have to worry the win or loss, as the 15% roughie came through and we got a draw. I don't know what Tom Waterhouse's odds would have been, but I would have loved to of seen the odds for both games ending in a draw. Given that 0% of Fremantle games had previously ended in a draw and 1.2% of Storm games had, I'd say they were longer than a those for a truthful statement in the More Joyous saga.

All of this raises the long discussed over the water cooler question of whether a draw or extra time is the right choice. In the NBA they play till they pass out or someone wins, likewise in ice hockey and baseball. In soccer a draw is a draw (however the sport can have a 0-0 scoreline). The NRL is based on the NFL model, where if extra time doesn't work its a draw.

So has the weekend changed my view on draws? Yes. Now, even more so than last week, I support the idea of a draw. You play the game to the end. As a player you know when time is winding down. You throw your body on the line and go the extra mile to ensure your team wins.

For both of these games no team deserved to lose. Who deserved to win? Well that's up to the fans and the commentators. For once we have to accept that there isn't a result, and as the Storm proved, some times no amount of extra time can change that.

Coming of Age

‘notch on the belt we never had’ was the quote. Some said we've now accomplished everything we can in sport. America’s Cup, Tour de France, World Cup qualification are all ticked off the checklist. Australia has won cricket, union, netball and hockey World Cups plus many more. But there is something that hasn’t happened in our major sporting codes, in particular the AFL that is yet to happen.

A face to remember (Kwaku Alston/For Sports Illustrated)

Most of you won’t know his name, let alone his face. You probably won’t even know which sport he plays or what records he holds. He is a journeyman, a team player and a pioneer. He has evoked fear in other players with the way he plays and now fear in some for their beliefs. He is a multimillionaire and a twin. He will be remembered not for his 12 years as a professional, but for what was written on the 29^th April 2013. Maybe in 50 years time it won’t seem like that big a deal, but for millions of people around the world who don’t normally care about sport, this is huge. So who is he? In the words of Jason Collins ‘I’m a 34 year old NBA centre. I’m black. And I’m gay’.

As the Sports Illustrated piece pointed out, this is a man who led the NBA in fouls one year. A tough guy centre who’s been to the NBA Finals mixing it with Shaq and Kobe. In the late 2000’s he was seen as the anti-venom to the NBA’s best centre Dwight Howard. Not your typical gay guy many may say. Then again what is? He talks openly about the Christian values his parents instilled in him and how he takes the teachings of Jesus seriously, particularly those of tolerance and understanding. It wasn’t until last year that he told his twin brother the news. He wanted people to know because he had told them and not because they found out on a gossip website. For a country where religion and sport run deep, it will be interesting to see which runs deeper in this case.

Many my age, including me, are too young to remember former NRL player Jason Roberts announcement in 1995. For our generation this is a first. For American sport fans it’s a first full stop. Never before has an active NFL, NHL, MLB or NBA player come out. In a country where the four major codes have thousands of active players, it is hard to imagine he is the only one. In Australia there are over 500 active AFL players, yet not one is openly gay. AFL CEO Andrew Demetriou said that the code is ready to embrace its first openly gay player. But even that comment itself makes you wonder why it needs to be said. If as a society we have to wait for the head of a sporting body to declare the time is right for acceptance, then maybe we aren’t ready. Maybe players, fans and the general public don’t know what to expect if it happens. However it isn't something new to all of us, as illustrated perfectly by Collins himself.

Three Degrees of Jason Collins. As he describes it is the simple game that shows by three simple steps, from person to person, we all know or know of someone who is gay. So is there a difference between your co-worker, your uncle or your postman being gay and a sportsperson we know?

My immediate thought and best comparison was Magic Johnson’s sudden retirement 1991 after tests confirmed he had contracted HIV. The similarity may seem strange but let me explain. By 1991 most people knew what HIV was, how it was treated and what it meant for Magic. Most of the players believed that they could continue to play with Magic had he not retired. In 1992 that was put to the test when he came out of retirement. There was anger, there was trepidation, but in the end if was just basketball.

Because after all is said and done, we are still watching an athlete, a footy player, a basketballer. We appreciate the athlete for their skills and talent on the court, not their sexuality. Just like Majak Daw will go from being the first Sudanese person to play AFL to just another forward from the Kangaroos, Jason Collins will go from the first gay guy in the NBA to the NBA veteran in his 13^th season looking for a team.

I applaud the courage of Jason Collins for his honesty, just as President Obama did, as his idol, tennis legend Martina Navratalova did, as teammate Bradley Beal did and as NBA legend Kobe Bryant did. It is not about rights or equality in this case though, it is about Collins and his decisions.

Earl Lloyd 63 years ago

63 years ago Earl Lloyd become the first African American to play in the NBA. Today no one knows his name or remembers the day. Today we live in an age where there is no need to separate by ethnicity. In 63 years time we won't recall who the first gay NBA player was, but for today at least we can appreciate Jason Collins and his honesty.

'one notch in the belt we never got'

I’ve spent two weeks looking for the end of this story. I’ve been searching for that final paragraph that sums everything up perfectly. That perfect line or analogy to summarise the mess that was this story. In the end it was nothing I could of written, but an action, one nation stopping, heart palpitating, snooze inducing action. First however, the story itself.

The story had evolved from dot point formant two weeks ago, through to play by play of each day last week before ending up being a long winded, slow moving explanation of something that was quite simple to explain. What I was looking to do was to capture what two weeks and three weekends without TV or home internet would be like for a sports fan. Circumstances had conspired against me, forcing me to endure trial how far mobile sporting technology has come and how long I could survive without it.

Beginning Saturday 23^rd March through to Thursday 11^th April I was plasma-less and Optus-less. From Black Caviar winning her 24^th race during half time of the AFL season opener until last Thursday, the only sport I watched was on my iPhone. Any match summaries, results or box scores were on the phone. If there was breaking news, Twitter had it on my phone. If there was a try/goal/mark I needed to see Foxsports and espn.com were there on my phone. If the Miami Heat or Pittsburgh Penguins reeled off 27 or 15 game winning streaks my NBA/NHL apps were there. If the Grand Prix was on, the F1 app was running. The list keeps going with golf, cycling, baseball, union, cricket, you get the picture.

By the time I got to the 11^th of April I had missed 18 AFL games, 24 NRL games, a grand prix (Webber controversy), the Golden Slipper, hundreds of games of NBA/NHL/MLB and my two teams, the Dockers and Storm start the season a collective 7-0. March Madness, the 68 team college basketball tournament used to find the best team had started and finished.

During this time I listened to more ABC Grandstand footy since Saturday morning sport as a kid with Dad (Good to see the commentary team has changed. Drew, Stan, Mark and Gerard keep up the good work). I expanded my sporting podcast library and spent Thursday/Friday lunch at work doing fantasy football on a colleague’s iPad.

For three long weeks I talked to friends and colleagues about sport knowing only too well they had watched it and I hadn’t. I talked Vettel/Webber like I was at the race. I got up Collingwood fans when they lost (actually nothing wrong with that). I gloated about the Storm’s win over the Bulldog’s to my coffee shop owner. Not once did I mention to any of these people that I hadn’t seen any of it. Why would I with instant analysis from multiple media sources making me look like an expert? Who needs to watch it when we can have ‘experts’ telling us either how it happened or their opinion what they thought happened?

Expand that idea to Twitter and you can have thousands of ‘experts’ telling you what they think was going through Vettel’s mind, or that James Hird is bringing the game into disrepute, or that the best thing about the Masters is Caroline Wozniacki, Pauline Gretzky and Lindsey Vonn caddying for McIlroy, Johnson and Woods.

So what forced my hand? What got me to the point where enough was enough? It was a weekend of Fremantle v Essendon on Friday Night Football, it was Black Caviar gunning for Kingston Town’s record, it was Hawks and Pies at the G and it was Augusta and the Masters.

Oh the Masters. The place where once a year we watch montages of magnolias, bridges and creeks to awful ‘golf’ music (my wife’s description) and where a $1.44M first prize comes second to a Green Jacket.

As Snedeker stumbled and Day bogeyed, as Tiger stalked and a 14 year old stunned, as we learnt the word for fly in Spanish and watched the best cart golf you have ever seen, I realised that this is why we have TV’s. That no matter how much we tweet, how much we analyse or how much we talk about it, nothing beats these moments. From Jim Ferrier coming second after being up 3 with 6 to play in 1950 to Greg Norman being Mized in 1987, this was the moment. As Bertrand and Australia II did in 1983 and Cadel again in 2011, today Adam Scott, the man with the swing as good as his looks, gave Australian sport the thing it was missing, the ‘one notch in the belt we never got’.

Nothing can beat that feeling, of watching something live, of watching history being created. We watch because we want to witness greatness. We want to tell our children, our grandchildren, that we were saw Aloisi make that penalty, Waugh drive the last ball of the day for four, Johnny Wilkinson drop kicked our hearts and Cathy stride to that ‘special’ victory. It is these Adam Scott in the pouring rain at Augusta National sinking a curling right to left putt on the second playoff hole that makes us appreciate not only our sports people, but how television brings that all into our homes and our lives.