Ha. Thanks.
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Okay. And that’s it. The 2015 Cricket World Cup opening ceremony is, officially, over. And I’ll bet you dollars to donuts that someone’s taken the handle of a broom and is gently nudging David Warner awake.
Of course I know that not. But my ... that was ... ... It was rubbish. The Aussie bit anyway. The Kiwi part was okay. It moved pretty quickly. The Aussie bit couldn’t have been more cliched and flat-out stone boring had they put Daryl Braithwaite on stage singing Howzat.
Which of course they did.
Anyway. We’re done. I’m Matt Cleary. Join the Guardian’s over-by-over callers for Game One of CWC15, New Zealand v Sri Lanka on Saturday, 11am local time in Christchurch, 9am in the east of Australia and 10pm on the Friday, UK time.
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Daryl Braithwaite. He was a spunk in 1982. Girls made signs at his gigs, “You’re a spunk, Daryl!”
Oh yes - and here’s “Howzat. “I messed about and caught you out, howzat?”
An Anthem of Australia. And he’s still singing it, at the opening ceremony of the 2015 Cricket World Cup, thirty-five years later.
That is unbelievable.
Okay. Daryl Braithwaite. He had a hit in 1980. It was called Howzat. We’ll hear it soon, I would wager many shekels upon it.
This Cricket World Cup Opening Ceremony is like Carols By Candlelight without Santa Clause or Rudolf or any of the magic of Christmas and children in the crowd waving sparklers. It’s like ... the most boring thing ... in the entire world.
The entire world.
Okay, another singing person. High-pitched man. Jason Someone. Underwhelming the crowd like ... Oh, I don’t know. Vanilla ice cream with all the taste taken out of it, like a lump of ice cream that’s air-flavoured. A bit cold. Filling. But you aren’t ordering it for your Final Meal.
Wow. This singer boy, his name is Nathaniel something, has sold 5 million records in France. What in the name of dear sweet Dennis Lillee is the meaning of this. How can this be? Can can it be?
And here is Tina Arena. Melbourne royalty. The poor man’s Kylie. Lovely voice. She was on Young Talent Time in 1981. She was 24 then. Ha. No she wasn’t. Fine singer though.
Nah. I put two hands up for it. Fun gig.
They did indeed.
Jessica Mauboy, still, ripping off her quite nice pop song about ... something. Doesn’t really matter does it. What was that horribly mysoginist song about something... I’ll get to it. Cracking tune though. Lyrics like, if you spoke them, you could be arrested.
Jessica Mauboy, now, bounding about, smiling like a happy-clapper, super voice, great voice. She won Idol or something, might’ve come second. Sometimes you can come second and still sell records. It’s a thing.
Live from the Park, or wherever this funny little Eurovision audition is going on, Josh Young gives us his view:
Nice one, Josh. Get one of Clarkey if you can get past his Security detail.
He did not. I tell my wife when I head off to play golf that I’m like Robert Redford in Out of Africa, out flying his plane about and hunting elephants, rather than settling down. And she goes, Shut up, idiot, instead of lamenting that she had a farm in Africa, or at least Allambie Heights where we live.
And so to your Tweets:
Not yet. But it’s in the post, I’m tipping.
Righto. Wally Edwards, ICC board member. A political man. Making an Important Speech. Not really an Important Speech. More a Perfunctory Speech. He finishes with a punch in the air like Steptoe asking for a cup of tea, and says, “May the best team win!”
Oh, and here’s the Special Moment thing ... I think. It’s the Player of The Tournament, or the Official Player of the Tournament ... it’s a huge puppet! IT’S A HUGE PUPPET!
HA DEAR SWEET MR LILLEE IT’S A GIANT PUPPET IN THE SHAPE OF BATSMAN.
And he’s walking down the stage... all white light and flouro ... this giant batsman puppet, apparently run by several men. Ha. Man ... this is ... It’s stupid is what it is. The puppet man is walking on the stage as the band plays some sort of music, like Star Wars music, and Mark Nichols the Channel Nine’s man, reads out some highlights of previous World Cups. Channel Nine knew how boring this bit would be, the Massive Puppet walking out onto stage.
Many colours, the giant puppet. Men in black with sticks making him do stuff. Hopefully he goes off retired hurt, signals to the sheds, get me out of here.
Now he’s running. No, he’s marking his guard, like at the crease. Ha. Oh dear. Now he’s facing up. I’m tipping a hook shot. He faces up. AND YES! THE GIANT PUPPET HAS RIPPED OFF A HOOK SHOT AND THE WHOLE OF MELBOURNE GOES UP IN ONE GIANT CONFLAGURATION OF FIREWORKS THE LIKES OF WHICH HAVE NOT BEEN SEEN SINCE THE LAST GIANT CONFLAGURATION OF FIREWORKS, AND THE GIANT PUPPET CRICKET MAN WALKS BACKWARDS OFF THE STAGE, AND MELBOURNE, MARVELLOUS MELBOURNE ... oh there’s an ad.
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And so Indigenous dancers swirl and twirl, and leap about in eerie orange light. And here comes the teams, led out by ... Afghanistan. Top story. The country’s at war. Good effort getting a cricket team to the Cup.
Bunch of flags walking down the hill. India, Ireland. Pakistan. Scotland. I was there when their captain hit Glenn McGrath first ball of their game in Worcester in ‘99. Can’t dig up a YouTube video of it.
Here’s Australia, led by Michael Clarke and what looks like a dozen policemen. That’s how popular Clarkey is, people want to get at him, do things to him.
No they don’t. But Australia, these days, you can never be too sure. And if you want to get in on burgeoning industry, it’s the Security/Fear Industry.
Here’s the speeches. Premier of Victoria. Daniel Andrews. Fronting the Aunties, the traditional ladies of the land. Captains of countries on stage with flags. As entertainment goes it’s like sitting through a speech by the CEO of a spanner factory.
So. Here’s one of the best things that’s ever happened in cricket ever:
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Damn ... this is what it’s going to be like when you have to watch your kid’s - meaning the entire school’s - school concert. Except this doesn’t even have your own kid in it, but a couple of neighbours, maybe a nephew. And you can’t get a beer. And your wife scolds you for playing on the phone.
Here’s Zimbabwe. New Zealand. And now ... Australia. Cameras pan to the Team. Foolish man yells the Oi Oi Oi dirge. And Australia is represented by two-times Aria recording sensation ... someone. I am out of it, pop-music wise. Might be a boy off one of those Reality Karaoke contest shows.
What would be like the most humane way to die. I don’t mean that. Life is great. But this show is a bad man’s pants.
So here’s Lance again, with apologies to the fine staff at The Times of South Africa, indeed the entire populace of the fine country of South Africa.
But, well, you know. This:
TV people know their audience, know numbers. It’s coming on Gem at 8:30, though.
And here’s the West Indies represented by a steel drum band. It’s like all the world’s stereotypes have come to Melbourne.
Meanwhile, local outrage:
Sorry no that was the monster trucks again.
Here’s Lance:
And so the Gumboot Dancers of South Africa whack away at their boots, shirtless, like tap-dancers meet Tap Dogs meet muscle-bound mine-workers who have a break from hunting gold by whacking their boots and bodies, and saying, Hey! And they are pretty good. And that’s the end of them, because here’s ... oh ripper. Sri Lanka.
Wouldn’t mind going to Sri Lanka. The late great Tony Greig often talked of Sri Lanka as a cracking place to visit, and even though he was being paid by Sri Lanka to spruik Sri Lanka you could tell he meant it.
Here’s Lance Kluesner smashing Sri Lanka:
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Pakistan out now, or at least a band singing Rhythm of Pakistan, or it could be the name of the band, I dunno. It’s ... it’s really quite boring. Couldn’t they have Wasim Akram being shot out a cannon? Imran Khan fighting Javed Miandad.
And here’s Scotland, represented by ... people in kilts playing bag-pipes, and dancing. Yes...
South Africa could be better. Two dudes doing a Gumboot Dance.
Meanwhile, from Jo’burg:
Okay - India, represented by people dancing about in traditional kit to a snappy sort of Bollywood beat. And here’s Ireland ... with a song performed by Saoirse ... and if you think it’s hard to pronounce that you are not alone, indeed there’s a YouTube channel dedicated to it:
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And here we are in Melbourne, song and dance numbers from Bangladeshi folks in green cricket shirts and traditional orange flowing kit. Banger types in the crowd dance about. England is represented by ballerinas in Union Jack tutus dancing to “Money can’t buy me love” by the Beatles, the world Hunter Thompson’s bad acid dream. Or maybe a good one. We may never know.
It is quite boring, however.
Here’s some monster trucks instead. I actually drove this one. A rich tapestry.
And so Shape Shifter wrap up their one-song set, and fireworks shoot out near the drummer, and the lead-singer man thanks Christchurch. They throw animals at him. No they don’t.
And thus wraps up the New Zealand section of the Opening Ceremony of this Cricket World Cup. And our coverage flies over the Tasman Sea and down the Yarra River, and into the great city of Melbourne, where a pair of Traditional Owners acknowledge their ancestors. They’re dressed in ... could be wombat fur, could be possum. And carry eucalyptus leaves, which represent the locals, and welcomes people to Country. Symbols, rituals, it means stuff. Top stuff.
Meanwhile, sports blogger Steve Pye, writes: “Hi Matt, I’m guessing that the 2015 opening ceremony will be a tiny bit better than the 1999 version. An awful occasion which lasted about as long as England’s World Cup hopes. PS - If you get bored with the opening ceremony - doubtful I know - then I’ve produced a blog on the best performances at the 1983 World Cup. You might have to get really bored to read it though.”
I’ll give it a go, mate. Let me get through this first.
And so the best defence against invading, or even visiting at all, New Zealand, the New Zealand Army Band, plays ... something.
That’s harsh. They’re quite good. God Defend New Zealand gets a quick go. And Ginny is back ... no it’s not Ginny, it’s a local Talent, good sort. She introduces ... SHAPE SHIFTER!
WHAT THE HELL IS SHAPE SHIFTER?
We may never know. Yes we will. It’s a rap music band, or an R&B mob ... they start slowly. And ... don’t increase the pace for a while ... man on stage in a baseball hate, stiff brim, a portly type ... they’re playing “In Colour”, one of their songs. If this was a hit you could write one with a crayon and a one-string banjo. Bit of a dirge. Meanwhile Maori ladies twirl their swirly-balls, you know the ones. As Shape Shifter ... drifts along with their dud hymn. Bit of a bummer they couldn’t finish on a Super High, but then you can’t keep dragging out Dave Dobbin. At some stage you have to move on from Slice of Heaven.
We’ll give it one more go, however.
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David Richardson, used to be a wicket-keeper for South Africa. He says some stuff about playing within the rules. Tad rich from the ICC’s man. But will we go there?
And here’s John Key, the Prime Minister of New Zealand, and the people actually applaud him. Hasn’t happened in Australia for a good few years. If Tony Abbott walked out now they’d throw animals at him, marsupials, big ones. He tells his team to “Go well, boys! Go well!”
And here’s the New Zealand Army. Oh it’s the band. Blokes in red coats blowing trumpets, and dancing about. It’s a bit like an American college mob, doing their thing. It’s pretty cool, a fine vibe. Not sure it’s saying to the world, Don’t invade New Zealand because we have this band we’ll set upon you.
Good tunes though.
Oh - vision of Cape Kidnappers. Brendon McCullum and Tim Southee, teeing off. Lasith Malinga is here, on stage. Oh - and Billy Bowden, the bent-fingered Umpire Man. Few kangaroos loose in his top paddock, some might surmise. Richard Hadlee comes out in Umpire’s kit. Tim Southee is going to have a bowl at the kid. Be something of an international incident if he scones the kid on the bonce, one would warrant.
And Southee comes in. He doesn’t have a ball. But the kid “cuts” him over the top and ... the Prime Minister of New Zealand, John Key, catches it on the telly. Ha. Top stuff.
And here is Ginny Blackmore in a flowing white dress, and she’s introducing members of the teams of this World Cup. They wander out in suits, waving. Heck of a lot has gone into this Ceremony. If it was your wedding you’d be jack of all the rehearsals, one would warrant.
Ginny Blackmore? Hadn’t heard of her. But she can sing like a Dame.
Three tenors, I think, Maori men, opera singers. Beautiful sound. They sing O Solo Mio ... which is my first attempt ... and I bet it’s wrong by a few vowels.
Just the one! “O Sole Mio”. I’ll cop that.
Oh, and here they go, the Three Kiwi Tenors, ripping into it. Black suits and white shirts. They stand ram-rod stiff. Only their heads wobbling slightly. Beautiful sound. Great sound. Big sound. Nothing to do with cricket but it matters not. They rip it off and finish, and the big bass drums boom ... and well, how about that.
Oh - and here’s a kid with a guitar. The Tenor boys approach him. It’s a gag. They steal his guitar. Who is this boy? He takes out a plastic cricket bat. Pretends to be Brendon McCullum. And now there’s a bunch of kids, playing cricket. And here’s ... STEPHEN FLEMING IT’S STEPHEN FLEMING!
Probably didn’t need to yell. But here’s some Kiwi sports folks. A rower. A singer man. Peter Jackson, the director man. Sir Peter Jackson. A man in a helicopter. IT’S RICHIE MCCAW! RICHIE MCCAW WE ARE NOT WORTHY.
Yes we are. And these worthies are on stage with the cricket kids. Only a bit cheesy.
Maori warriors dancing, saying “Hee!” in that distinctive Kiwi way. Faces painted. You’d be quite scared if you were a British soldier in 1806, even if you did have a Henry Carbine repeating rife.
Okay, big door on stage. Traditionally face-painted. A lone warrior man in all the kit, he faces the giant door, as words flash up on the big screen describing the significance. Old mate pokes out the tongue. Hop-steps up on stage to the giant door. The door opens ... and it’s ... looks like those choirs from the Qantas ads, the Pure Ones singing.
Our man takes out a giant sea-shell, and blows into it. And a Kiwi songstress, Hayley Westenra, in front of a hundred kids in white T-shirts, sings a song of New Zealand called “You raise me up”, which is an advertisement for New Zealand Tourism.
They don’t need it, really. New Zealand is gob-dangling gorgeous.
Check it out.
Okay, Maori People, a man and a woman, belting out their distinctive, slightly-plaintive “Welcomes” to representatives of the countries contesting this Cricket World Cup. Flags coming out. Each country’s traditional music over-woven, inter-woven, something, with the stirring theme music of the tournament. Bagpipes, Indian sitars, West Indian steel drums, Zimbabwean drums, Aussies get the didgeridoo, tunes played over the Welcome song of New Zealand. Great stuff.
And here’s the Kiwi flag, to a huge roar from The People. It’s brilliant, good as gold. Tens of thousands in the arena. Great stuff.
Oh - and here’s a haka. Men and women. Ripping off their traditional tongues-out, dancing, scary-schtick. It’s one of the best things in sport. Not about money. It’s about who they are. Beautiful.
Greetings, The People, Matt Cleary here, I’ve been tasked with “calling” this Opening Ceremony of the 2015 Cricket World Cup from Melbourne and Christchurch, and can honestly say this gig should be more fun than Cirque du Soleil on ice in the nude as played by the cast of Reservoir Dogs. Maybe not that much fun. But fun, man. Fun. Indeed it should be a ripper(s).
The Christchurch one has looked like pretty good fun, they’ve been throwing to various “legends” of Kiwi cricket for their comments on the cities and towns hosting matches, and players such as Rod Latham and the champions of dibble-dobble slow-medium, Gavin Larsen and Chris Harris, have talked of those towns and the games therein. Not sure it will win the Kiwi version of a Logie (love to know what that is, if you’re reading, Kiwi People) but it’s been fair entertainment thus far, without being Harvey Keitel in the nude on ice.
Richard Hadlee! He’s come onto the stage at Hadlee Park, and wanders coolly on stage, the great man, Sir Richard. Tallish man. Greying mane. Aerodynamic hooter. Had a beautiful bowing action, he modelled it one Dennis Lillee, and didn’t miss him. Took 431 Test wickets. Man - he could play. How good was he. Not a question.
We’ve just interviewed the captains of New Zealand, West Indies, South Africa and United Arab Emirates, they being the squadrons who will contest games in New Zealand (along with Australia at Eden Park, that will be massive), and we lay back in wait for the Entertainment Spectacular this Opening Ceremony promises to be.
They reckon there’ll be a Special Moment down the track. If you have a tip what that will be email matt.cleary@theguardian.com or Tweet me @journomatcleary. Keep it clean. But otherwise, go berko, The People.
I’m Matt Cleary. Let’s open this bad-boy.
The Cricket World Cup is nearly upon us but before the action gets under way, let us for a moment (or, rather, for the next two-and-a-half hours) turn our attentions to the Sidney Myer Music Bowl in Melbourne, where one of two opening ceremonies are being held. The other one is in Christchurch, across the ditch in New Zealand, and both events are expected to provide the usual celebration of music, culture and colour that in no way has anything to do with sporting extravaganza to come. Should be fun though.
While we’re waiting for Matt Cleary, your host for all the festivities, to get here, why not have a little look at this interesting video, on the making of the bats and balls that will be used in Australia and New Zealand over the next six weeks.
