[ THIS ARTICLE IS FROM LAST YEAR
AND WILL BE REPEATED EVERY YEAR
AROUND WIMBLEDON TIME, AS IT WILL ALWAYS APPLY.
ITS ABOUT TIM HENMAN
THE FOUR-TIMES WIMBLEDON SEMI-FINALIST ]

One of the joys of getting SKY News (besides from being able to view live footage of English Football Yobbos preparing for Euro 2004) is the exposure we get of ‘COME ON TIM’ fever! I used to think it was reserved for Wimbledon but it looks like we get it throughout the year! And what fun it is to watch!

It is virtually every sportsman’s hidden superstition that his performance can be ‘jinxed’. Particularly through something verbal. The dictionary definition explains the word as ‘bad luck, or a person or thing that is believed to bring bad luck. My trusty Microsoft Word thesaurus gives ‘curse’ and ‘gremlin’ as alternatives. ‘Gremlin’ did not give Bishop Tutu’s name.

Supporters of various sportspeople and sports teams would never dream of uttering words like “God, I hope De Wet Barry doesn’t get injured”. It just wouldn’t make sense to risk such magical mystery.

Then you get the British Public who, fully aware of the potential power of ‘jinxing’, manage to give Tim Henman more exposure before an event than any other individual in the world. Not that other nations don’t support their players – it’s just the way the press over there handle it.

Here we see Timiny, wearing his trademark gum-guard.

Living in London for just under three years allowed my digs mates and I to witness it first hand every year Wimbledon came around.

“COME ON TIM ! YOU CAN DO IT”

…….would not seem out of place in the slightest. They never go for ‘Good luck, Tim’ or ‘Do your best’. It always seems to be in the form of a whine and the annual question….. ‘Is this Tim’s year?’

They were having discussions yesterday on Sky about exactly that -’Is this Timiny’s year’! What they are referring to is obviously the winning of something big. I browsed over Timiny’s website which produces some very dull stats. He won the Paris Masters last year, but really, it’s not Wimbledon, its not the US Open, it’s not the French Open, it’s not the Ozzie Open, its not Stella Artois!

He has won three singles titles since October 2001 – The Adelaide International Series (Jan ‘02), The Washington International Series (Aug ‘03) and the Paris Masters (Nov ‘03).

I notice on Sky News that they are now whining before every event. This time the Stella Artois Championships. Yesterday they had Tim interviewed with the hopes of a nation clearly on his shoulders (once again). Needless to say he was knocked out of the second round! I nearly fell over this morning when I turned on the news. Please do yourself a favour and get the Daily Telegraph today. God, the pain of seeing another full front page pic of Tim dealing with the letting down of a nation.

I wouldn’t be surprised if they hit him with ‘WAIT FOR WIMBLEDON TIMINY – YOU CAN DO IT !!!’ tomorrow.

Needless to say, I think the poms need to do everyone a favour and back off a bit. The guy must be wearing hair dye because you have to be completely grey to deal with the kind of expectations and let downs he does.

It would probably help if Timiny was less of a nerd, mind.

I don’t know if I will be able to cope with him actually managing to win Wimbledon so I’ll get it started…….

GO TIM !!

WIMBLEDONS YOURS FOR THE TAKING

YOU CAN DO IT

Ivan A writes in:

“You never think it’ll happen to you. But then it does!. TBG spotted at Vegas Room, 16 June, 2005″.

TBG – Applauding

Bloody good work! And what a great pic!

To say we’re over the moon is an understatement. It’s very rare to catch the TBG in such a natural state. Minding his own business, clearly enjoying the show. I wonder what makes the TBG tick?

Well done, Ivan. 2oceanvibe commends you!

To Ivan !

To the TBG !

I don’t mean to cuss, but I just came back from a fucking evening of note! Some good guys have opened a new club called Vegas Room. Oh, ok, I see what you’ve done. It’s like VEGAS. Ohhhh, VEEEGAS. Crazy mental! Is that what you want from us? Do you want us to go crazy? Aaaargh!! I’m crazy! Hold me down! I’m a fucking lunatic!

[insert 6 hours of sleep here]

So the owners of Vegas Room made us feel special by giving us a 6-seater booth for the launch party on Saturday night. WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU SAY? I said they gave us a BOOTH. God that feels good! I’m so stoked my arse is happier in a booth than other people’s arses at normal tables. Thangyaverymuch.

So I never quite got the brief, but Vegas pumps very nicely for you. It’s at 98 Long Street (The same venue as the Dirty Skirts album launch coming up on Wednesday) and is probably the same size as Eclipse. The idea is for comedy acts and God knows what else to do their thing on the stage and then for everything to be cleared away to make way for a party. The shareholders include Sox from Caprice so you’ll struggle to get off the dance floor. Last night was no exception. Angels were seen pumping their hands towards the roof shouting (in unison) key-party-phrases like ‘Pump it up some more’. Is that not what it’s all about?

The evening was introduced and hosted by comedian Cokey Falkow, who is also involved in the club. Finding good comedy is a bit of a task these days. I don’t have an expert’s knowledge of Cape Town comedy, but I think it would be absolutely fine if you physically pissed yourself watching Cokey. The mess created from peeing yourself would probably be fine with your fellow patrons. They realize how hard it is to watch this guy and restrain yourself from having the best laugh of all – the one where you pee yourself. The guy has it spot-on. Jesus, Cokey! When you have a hamster in your head than runs on its wheel at 300 revolutions a second – you certainly don’t have to plan your stand up act. That’s why he doesn’t. And that’s probably why it’s so fucking funny! Cokey, you’re good.

The second guy, somebody Taylor from some TV show was pretty funny. He was followed by the fat white guy from Plumstead who brought a good chuckle – but the LAST act, Bevan Cullinan, can only be described as completely HYSTERICAL! At one stage he described someone’s hair as a ‘Recently Sodamised Badger’. I can’t hold in any amount of pee when stuff like that is being thrown around. At the end of the show he did a dance to Queen’s ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ that was completely and utterly off the charts. It would do it great injustice to try and explain it. Either you’ve seen it or you haven’t. Personally, I’d pay money to a get a video clip which can play it on repeat on a plasma screen at home until I die. Thank God it was the last act because you couldn’t end on a better note.

Non-booth tables and chairs were removed to open up the dance floor and, after Rizla was finally outsourced (An ‘A+’ for service – a rarity in this town), some funk-ass tunes sailed through the air. Teasing us. Wooing us to the dance floor. ‘Come to me’, the dance floor said. After seven rounds of tequilas with our GORGEOUS angel waitress (They let them drink. We’re all adults here), we were more than ready to pull some intoxicating dance moves. Do those little angels on the dance floor want a piece of me? You’re fucking right they do. The girls knew the only option was to feed off me. They did, and let’s face it, it worked out for everyone. I’ll conceptualize our dance moves for this song. I want you to see what I’m doing, and feed off me. That’s it. Feed. And feed. Good.

Two paragraphs have now ended with the word ‘good’. Is that bad?

Mother of God, I just remembered that Caprice’s Dave was breakdancing – I shit you not. Read that sentence again. Visualize it. He’s pretty good as well. Interesting. So that’s Dave’s thing. He throws out some signature breakdancing moves. Everyone has to have their own secret signature. Daves is breakdancing. It’s different. It’s good. I like it.

â€Å“Isn’t that the guy we saw breakdancing the other night?”.

â€Å“Yes, I’ve heard about that breakdancing guy”.

Vegas Room is tailor made for top quality mayhem. There really is nothing better than pissing (there is now, officially, too much pee on this page) yourself with laughter for an hour and hitting the dance floor afterwards. It is a fact that laughter makes the angels feel sexy. So in this case they laugh their heads off, drink Red Bull, tequila, vodka, wine, digest God knows what else and THEN they hit the dance floor. What a pleasure! Say it like some of your friends’ fathers used to say it.

â€Å“What a PLEASURE”.

Or they’d throw in an ‘Aaaayyyyy’ beforehand.

Like, â€Å“So John, I believe you visited the new Shambokkie game Reserve. How was it?”

â€Å“Aaaaayyyyyyy, WHAT A PLEASURE!”

Thanks guys. Give me more.