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globalrugbyleague - Fri, 07 Mar 2008 07:29:00 GMTIs streaking a gift for bored sports fans or a gross rebellion that will send us all blind? Josh King investigates an unusual tradition that has left fans divided.
I remember my first time.
The year was 2003 and a long day at the Rugby League World Sevens was coming to a close in a fixture being played between Fiji and St.George-Illawarra.
Somewhere in the imagination I can hear in my head Ray Warren yelling “That’s Rugby League at it’s very best.”
Sitting in the press box at the Sydney Football Stadium, the game was really nothing to write home about with the Dragons up 22-6 at the break and eventually winning 40-14.
By this stage I had begun blowing famous musical tunes through the top of my coke bottle while occasionally using a bit of my rusty shorthand to note who scored.
Trent Barrett had a blinder that night, scoring two tries, having a hand in others and kicking a goal of his own. Yet in my eyes he didn’t win the man of the match award. In fact none of the players amongst the two teams did.
That coveted award went to the bloke who jumped over the sideline fence just underneath the SFS scoreboard and successfully ran 100 meters of the field doing his best full monty impersonation.
Pace was obviously on this bloke’s side as none of the security were ever going to get close enough to capture the enemy.
My first thought was maybe the Fijians should put this bloke on the interchange. If you can evade security when tanked, there’s obviously some talent there that can be put to good use.
If memory serves me correctly – which it always does when it comes to remembering bizarre events – most of the players on the field cracked a grin.
I was still a press box rookie by this stage so I was certainly a tad surprised when ninety per cent of the other writers clapped. Confession time: so did I.
One fan I spoke to at the time likened it to ‘a scene from a Benny Hill sketch.’ That wasn’t far off the mark.
Nor was the mystery fool who then took matters literally into his own hands.
Everything was going to plan for our naked crusader until he reached the other side of the Stadium, jumped over the fence and made his way up the stairs only to be confronted by a bloke who must have been so upset at Fiji losing he needed a way to express his anger.
So that’s what he did by laying into the streaker with an assortment of fists before several hundred witnesses.
Those same witnesses thankfully booed him for the rest of the night and congratulated police when they escorted him away.
As we’ve learn’t from a 26-year-old Brisbane miner who attended a one-day cricket test this week, streaking can be a very costly exercise.
Robert Ogilvie – who leapt the Gabba Fence on Tuesday and exposed his body during the clash between Australia and India – ended up naked, drunk and lying on the turf after being shoulder charged by Andrew Symonds.
According to Ogilvie it was “just something he had to do.”
You know what else he’ll now need to do?
He’ll have to pay $1500 for giving spectators more then what they bargained for thanks to magistrate John Costello.
While handing down his verdict Costello added:
“If you wanted to see how popular you are, perhaps you should charge admission and see who turns up.”
So why do people try and get fit in the nude at sporting events when it only lands you in hot water?
Perhaps streaking is cheaper then placing a corny ad in the personals section of the local rag inviting prospective partners to enjoy scintillating times with a pisspot sporting bad breath and a body not to die for.
Or maybe it’s the only way they can express themselves now that Red Faces is extinct from Australian tv screens.
All I know is that during some of the most boring games of football I’ve ever watched, there was never a good streaker around when they were needed.
Though the greatest game of all has been in existance for 100 hundred-years in Australia, it wasn’t until 1976 that League uncovered it’s first nude fan just before half-time during a clash between St.George and Eastern Suburbs.
No doubt despite the threat of heavy fines and possibly a night or two in a cell, these brain explosions will continue to provide the game’s supporters with post-match talking points for another century.
To those members of the community who have come out of obscurity to provide voluntary light entertainment at their own expense, I say thanks for the memories. - Read More, Here
I remember my first time.
The year was 2003 and a long day at the Rugby League World Sevens was coming to a close in a fixture being played between Fiji and St.George-Illawarra.
Somewhere in the imagination I can hear in my head Ray Warren yelling “That’s Rugby League at it’s very best.”
Sitting in the press box at the Sydney Football Stadium, the game was really nothing to write home about with the Dragons up 22-6 at the break and eventually winning 40-14.
By this stage I had begun blowing famous musical tunes through the top of my coke bottle while occasionally using a bit of my rusty shorthand to note who scored.
Trent Barrett had a blinder that night, scoring two tries, having a hand in others and kicking a goal of his own. Yet in my eyes he didn’t win the man of the match award. In fact none of the players amongst the two teams did.
That coveted award went to the bloke who jumped over the sideline fence just underneath the SFS scoreboard and successfully ran 100 meters of the field doing his best full monty impersonation.
Pace was obviously on this bloke’s side as none of the security were ever going to get close enough to capture the enemy.
My first thought was maybe the Fijians should put this bloke on the interchange. If you can evade security when tanked, there’s obviously some talent there that can be put to good use.
If memory serves me correctly – which it always does when it comes to remembering bizarre events – most of the players on the field cracked a grin.
I was still a press box rookie by this stage so I was certainly a tad surprised when ninety per cent of the other writers clapped. Confession time: so did I.
One fan I spoke to at the time likened it to ‘a scene from a Benny Hill sketch.’ That wasn’t far off the mark.
Nor was the mystery fool who then took matters literally into his own hands.
Everything was going to plan for our naked crusader until he reached the other side of the Stadium, jumped over the fence and made his way up the stairs only to be confronted by a bloke who must have been so upset at Fiji losing he needed a way to express his anger.
So that’s what he did by laying into the streaker with an assortment of fists before several hundred witnesses.
Those same witnesses thankfully booed him for the rest of the night and congratulated police when they escorted him away.
As we’ve learn’t from a 26-year-old Brisbane miner who attended a one-day cricket test this week, streaking can be a very costly exercise.
Robert Ogilvie – who leapt the Gabba Fence on Tuesday and exposed his body during the clash between Australia and India – ended up naked, drunk and lying on the turf after being shoulder charged by Andrew Symonds.
According to Ogilvie it was “just something he had to do.”
You know what else he’ll now need to do?
He’ll have to pay $1500 for giving spectators more then what they bargained for thanks to magistrate John Costello.
While handing down his verdict Costello added:
“If you wanted to see how popular you are, perhaps you should charge admission and see who turns up.”
So why do people try and get fit in the nude at sporting events when it only lands you in hot water?
Perhaps streaking is cheaper then placing a corny ad in the personals section of the local rag inviting prospective partners to enjoy scintillating times with a pisspot sporting bad breath and a body not to die for.
Or maybe it’s the only way they can express themselves now that Red Faces is extinct from Australian tv screens.
All I know is that during some of the most boring games of football I’ve ever watched, there was never a good streaker around when they were needed.
Though the greatest game of all has been in existance for 100 hundred-years in Australia, it wasn’t until 1976 that League uncovered it’s first nude fan just before half-time during a clash between St.George and Eastern Suburbs.
No doubt despite the threat of heavy fines and possibly a night or two in a cell, these brain explosions will continue to provide the game’s supporters with post-match talking points for another century.
To those members of the community who have come out of obscurity to provide voluntary light entertainment at their own expense, I say thanks for the memories. - Read More, Here