Netball - UPDATED

Sure you could go to the link in the title to read the Wikipedia article, but you know you want to read mine instead.

So what is netball? It's like basketball in that there is a hoop and a ball, and the object of the game is to get the ball through the hoop more frequently than your opponents. After that... well, it's nothing like basketball after that. There are seven players per team instead of five, there is no backboard (and often no net, just the hoop), no dribbling, no contact is permitted and not everyone can shoot. It is played mostly by girls and women wearing skirts, although boys play in schools and there are small men-only and mixed leagues. Sound like fun?

Actually it is. Netball is hugely popular in Australia and New Zealand, as well as the UK, Jamaica and other Commonwealth countries. Once you get over the fact that it has evolved far from its basketball origins (where it originated as 'women's basketball' until someone clued in that women could play basketball as well as men) you start to enjoy it for what it is.



The court, larger than a typical basketball court, is divided into thirds with two goal cirlces at each end. As I mentioned there are seven players per team, each with a designated position as indicated by the initials on the bibs they wear. Where they are permitted on the court is determined by their position. Positions are:

Goal Keeper (GK): a defensive position, allowed only in their defensive goal third including the goal circle. Attempts to prevent shooters from scoring.
Goal Defence (GD): a defensive position, allowed in the defensive and centre thirds as well as the goal circle. Attempts to prevent shooters from scoring.
Wing Defence (WD): a defensive position, allowed in the defensive and centre thirds but NOT the goal circle. Attempts to prevent the Wing Attack from advancing the ball.
Centre (C): allowed in all areas of the court except the goal circles. Restarts play from the centre circle after a goal is scored. Advances the ball to attacking players.
Wing Attack (WA): an attacking position, allowed in the centre and attacking goal third but NOT the goal cirlce. Attempts to get the ball to the shooters.
Goal Attack (GA): an attacking position, allowed in the centre and attacking goal third as well as the goal circle. Is permitted to shoot goals.
Goal Shooter (GS): an attacking position, allowed only in their attacking goal third including the goal cirlce. Is permitted to shoot goals.

There are four quarters, each lasting 15 minutes. Each goal is worth one point. There are two umpires who blow their whistles. Lots. They blow their whistle for fouls, for goals, to restart play and for reasons I still can't fathom. You're not permitted within 3 feet of a player with the ball, and did I mention the no contact rule? Sounds very proper, very polite doesn't it? Watch this clip from YouTube with some 2006 Commonwealth Game highlights and tell me what you think then:



Yeah, just as rough as basketball can be. Miss Thing began playing for the ACE Netball club three years ago and she really enjoys it. Given her height her preferred positions are Goal Shooter, Goal Attack and when pressed Wing Attack. She doesn't enjoy the defensive positions (although she will and does play them for the odd quarter here and there) and absolutely hates being Centre, mainly because she has to run a lot and has to quickly change between attacking and defending thinking which she's not good at. Currently her team, ACE Copper, is at the top of the table with only 1 loss! Woot Woot! It makes for a nice change from Sparky's bottom of the ladder footy team.

They're a great group of girls who genuinely get along - again, nice change from the footy team. To answer your next question yes there is basketball here; netball is simply more popular for girls and having played both Miss Thing enjoys netball more. Who am I to argue; it's all part of assimilating into a new culture.

Thus endth your Australiana lesson for today. Go forth and share your knowledge.

UPDATE: Since Harmonica Man's comment, I've been scouring YouTube to find a video that a) showed part of an actual game, b) wasn't a kids game as I have a problem with posting videos of kids that aren't my own, and c) was of good enough camera quality. This is what I came up with:



Not fabulous, but enough to give you an idea of how a game is played rather than just the down and dirty side. Now you can go...

Photo Friday

Are school holidays over yet so I can get near my computer? Now that Sparky has discovered the joys of MSN messenger it's a fight to get some time that's not close to midnight. So in the interests of better late than never, I bring you this week's photo:

That's Miss Thing in her netball uniform. Never heard of netball you say from across the pond? Me neither before I moved here. You'll just have to ponder until I explain in another post.

Reversion

As you can see, I've gone back to my white 'Leaping Womanmoose' template. Sorry it took so long - more modem drama. I think I've got a gremlin living inside my computer and he doesn't like any of us to go online for very long:

Thanks for all your comments regarding my template, especially those who said they come for the content and not for the looks. That really made me feel good - all warm and fuzzy inside.

I think a good look is important if I want to snag new readers, especially those just wandering by. My problem is two-fold. I know what I want to do, but I have no idea how to go about doing it myself! I have neither the skills or the necessary programs to edit or create images. My second problem is trying to find someone who does templates and also does them in XML or 'new Blogger'. I thought I had someone, but in the end it didn't happen.

This template is a free skin (as was the last one) but is an absolute bitch to edit. I have to put everything into a new template, change my sidebar content - to add new links or change ages or whatever - save everything, put the widgets back into the old template and then reload that! It takes more time than I currently have, which is very little to begin with. The blue "Marcia Brady" skin was easy to edit - a huge plus - but just didn't fit otherwise.

I like the clean white, or maybe some subtle colour, and I want a fun header. I have two images in mind to play with but as I said, no skills. So I shall stay with this one until I find a way to bribe Father Time into creating more time for me, or I find someone who can help me. I am willing to pay or trade for the help if anyone knows someone or wants to have a go themselves.

So thanks for your input everyone, and I'll get back to posting some real content tonight.

Mucking About... Again

Yes I've changed the template again. Which do you like better - this current bluish one or the white Leaping Womanmoose one? Please comment below...

Saturday Skinfest

I've been lucky in avoiding the various viruses the kids have been passing back and forth... until now. I think I'm coming down with something, but I'm not sure what. I've got a general feeling of fatigue, aches and pains and very sore eyes. Could be I'm just worn out from taking care of everyone and now we've got school holidays for two weeks.

This time last year we were hitting the open road up to FNQ in our hired motor home - reread our adventures by following the Tales from the Trip tag at the bottom of this post if you're so inclined. This year we'll be hitting the open road a bit later this year, around September/October. More to come on that soon, because we know what you're here for - skin baby!

Some people like the boyish look in a guy. I admit I'm not one of them, but I try to cater for everyone. Or at least try every now and again. So here's one for those who like 'em lean, the Cowboys Johnathon Thurston:

Sonny Bill Williams, I've always said you're an idiot. Brains of a hamster, and I think I may be insulting the hamster. How many times have you been in trouble over the grog and you're only now waking up to the fact you may have a problem? Foob. But I also don't discriminate against the mentally impaired, so you get another look in:

Pressed for time, I typed 'hot chicks' into the Google Images search engine. This was the second image that popped up. I don't know who she is but I do agree she's hot. Tell me if you agree:

More skin next week!

Photo Friday

Miss Thing snapped and edited this one. She's got some talent:

Ain't he gorgeous? He's brightened up many a moment with those eyes and cheeks, let me tell you.

Brrrrrrrrrr...

Most people think of Australia as a warm country. And it is, most of the time:


But not today! There was a large low pressure system off of New South Wales last night that wrecked a lot of havoc down there yet again. They've really been getting hammered and I feel for them but up here in drought crippled SE Queensland we can only hope for a storm or two like that to fill up our nearly empty dams. Yes, I'm serious. I'm fairly confident we'd all take a hit or two, or three, if it meant decent rain. We are that desperate.

I digress... NSW got the worst of it, but we coped a hell of a wind beginning yesterday morning and worsening through the night. I was never so glad to hear that Sparky's football training was cancelled last night as I wasn't looking forward to freezing my boobies off (hee, I said boobies). The maximum wind gust recording here in Brissy was 75 kph, with a fairly constant 20 kph. The temperature has struggled to get above 12 degrees C, making it one of the coldest June days on record. Factor the wind into that and it feels like a typical autumn New England day, something I don't miss in the slightest. UQ had the wind chill between 10.6 C and 5.5 C - friggin' cold man!

You don't think so? Did I mention we don't have central heating in our house? We've got a couple of space heaters, which seems typical of most people and homes here in Brisbane. I took the kids to McDonalds yesterday after Sparky's school admission interview and it was only marginally warmer inside than outside.

At least I'm not in my first house we lived in after moving to Brisbane. We rented a Queenslander style house, something along the lines of this:

No this isn't my old house, but it was in this style.

They're great in summer when the air circulates up and under the house and through the floorboards and open single paned windows. In this type of weather, they suck. We used to be able see down to beneath our house trough the gaps in the floor, and the wind easily whistled through the 100 year old window sashes. Nothing to do then but huddle 'round the heaters, layer up and go to bed early.

I'm now in a newer brick home, but it's still freakin' cold! The kids are all wearing layers - except for Her Majesty who has peeled all hers off - and we have the two heaters in the two living areas. I don't allow them into the bedrooms for fear of something being dropped on them during the night, but we have hot water bottles to snuggle up with along with lots of blankets. I skipped my shower this morning because I didn't want to face the cold when I got out; my bathroom is the coldest room in the house owing to a window that has a small strip of heavy screening along the top to let humidity out. Ingenious, but cold.

I get several hits a day from Expat-Blog, so if you're here from there let me assure you that despite what you may think or what people may tell you it DOES get cold Down Under! Not that it lasts long in Brisbane, but we're miserable while it does.

Think warm thought for me peoples!

KISS

I was made for lovin' you baby,
You were made for lovin' me!
And I can't get enough of you baby,
Can you get enough of me?

Saturday Skinfest

So... tired... Need... caffeine...

Hopefully I'll be more awake this afternoon to be able to do my planned post about Friday night. After all, Miss Thing is away at a friend's until Monday so I may actually be able to get near the computer!

I'd like to see if you can figure out the theme for this week's Skinfest, and no it's not to do with pools. Up first we have 'bald is beautiful' Craig Fitzgibbon from the Sydney Roosters:

Next the boyish but perpetually injured Benji Marshall from the Wests Tigers:

Guys I'm sorry I'm too knackered to go and hunt up a new girlie pic for you, so I'm recycling one of my old ones. Given the fact that most men enjoy looking at their old girlie mags (I speak from experience as I have seen Gabe's extensive collection that he keeps for the articles, I'm sure) I didn't think you'd mind:


More skin next week!

Photo Friday

It's a bit late for me given the simplicity of this post, but I have an excellent excuse (as usual)! I had to go sell raffle tickets for the Wests Juniors (that's Sparky's footy club) tonight for a few hours. More on that Sunday, but all in all it was a good few hours out selling tickets with Miss WTF and Sideline Shadow Russ (another footy dad), having a few drinks and even more laughs while raising some money for the boys. It was a shame we all couldn't stay longer, but I had to return home to my brood as I had left an anxious Miss Thing in charge of her siblings and she was eager to turn over the reigns.

Speaking of my brood, here's today's photo:

Which child is it? I'll give you a hint - it's not Clive!

State of Origin

Well my prediction was right - I didn't see bed til well after midnight, and then I didn't see much of it. Her Majesty had a rough night, getting up several times, Clive had his usual 2-3 awakenings because he didn't have his dummy and the Hermit was sawing wood so loudly not even the pillow over my head could block it out. Maybe I had the pillow in the wrong place...

So here it is, the long awaited Yankee explanation for State of Origin, in semi-FAQ form.

What is this State of Origin thing you keep going on about?

Rugby league has been kicking around (pun intended) New South Wales and Queensland since the early 1900s. Since NSW had all the money with Sydney being a huge city and all, the majority of talent played for clubs in NSW and the rest stayed in Queensland. The interstate matches between the two states were played with players drawn from their respective club states, not their hometown. You see the disparity - 70+ years of David v Goliath.

In 1980 things changed. The teams for the matches were decided on where the player had originated from. Hence the term State of Origin. You may play for the South Syndey Rabbitohs, for example, but if you're from Queensland you can be chosen for the Queensland side at SoO. In that first ever match under the new rules, Queensland won 20-10. And the rest is history.

So that's it? An All-Star rugby game of sorts?

That's the concept on a basic level. The best 17 players from each state (now chosen on where they started their junior or registered playing rather than their birthplace) are picked to play a best of 3 series, played mid-season, between the New South Wales Blues (aka the cockroaches) and the Queensland Maroons (aka the cane toads). They may play together week in and week out, but come Origin time they'll become rivals.

But that basic explanation leaves out the history, the emotion, the passion, the excitement and energy that goes along with this series. Imagine the rivalry between, say, the Boston Red Sox and the New York Yankees. Or any college rivalry you can think of. Now magnify it by 10. Then you might be close. Or in the words of my footy lovin' mate (and frequent commenter) Miss WTF:

Well, here it is. State against state, mate against mate. Where you’ll turn on a friend if the blood running through his body runs blue. Last week, you may have been sitting there cheering for the same team but tonight, that’s forgotten. It’s war. We find out our true colours and when that first Queenslander call goes up, the hair will stand up on the back of your neck, the skin all over your body will tingle and goosebumps will feel like they’re going to explode. Your blood will pump, your palms will sweat and your mouth will feel deadly dry. All that has gone before will be forgotten and those players you’d normally hate will become your best mates if they’re wearing maroon.

We play for glory. We play to avenge those players who’ve been wronged by those bastards in sky blue jerseys in years gone by. Tonight we play for the Queenslander greats who’ve played with honour, the Meninga’s, the Dowlings, the Bellas, the Lewis, the Langers, the Walters, the Bowsteads - all of those who’ve donned that maroon jersey that is their birth right. We play for our state, for pride, and most importantly, for bragging rights on the couch.

We will bleed Queensland blood and should we lose, we will cry Queensland tears. Bring it on you sky blue pansies, you cattle dogs, or cockroaches...whatever you’re calling yourselves these days. Everyone knows a Queensland cane toad will kill a dog and eat a roach.... prepare for battle.

QUEENSLANDER!!

Wow. Is she for real?

Darn tootin'. SoO is not 'just another game'. It's almost religious in its intensity. It's not just the fans. I dare say that being selected for a State of Origin team means more to players than being picked for the national team. New Zealand-born players, for example, who moved to Australia when young and began playing junior footy here, have given up their right to be chosen for NZ in order to give themselves the opportunity to be selected for SoO. They stay on the field with bloodied and broken noses - or worse - and have been stapled up on field (please don't watch that if medical stuff makes you queasy. I won't be blamed.).

I watched my first Origin match shortly after moving here 5 years ago. It was the third game of the series, being played in Syndey, with each team having won one game apiece. I was still learning about rugby league but was told my several people I "had to watch it - everyone will be watching." So I did. Even knowing very little about the game except they were massive guys who wore very little and tackled really really hard. But I knew about cheering for your hometeam and since I now lived in Brisbane I became a Queensland fan by default.

And then I saw him. The man who changed me forever and made me love this game that is rugby league. Tallis. Gordon Tallis:

I didn't know who he played for at a club level but he wore a maroon jersey and looked like something that escaped from a natural history Neanderthal exhibit. But he played with such intensity, such fire, such passion that I was hooked. I was hooked on Gordie, the Broncos (Tallis's club - lucky happenstance that), State of Origin and rugby league.

So is it over this year?

Yes and no. Queensland won game 2 last night, so we win the series overall. But game 3 will still be played in Brisbane in 3 weeks time to a sold out, fired-up crowd who will be looking for a clean sweep of the series to add insult to injury. I will watch it at home eagerly, with Sparky nearby claiming every refereeing decision is biased and incorrect if it goes against Queensland. All you Americans - if you get the chance to see this on your local cable sports channels, I highly recommend it. You will see a bit of what drives Australians, or at least Queenslanders, because I'm not sure I've done it justice here.

BONUS: I will give the first American commenter 100 brownie points (or Tim Tams if you want 'em) for correctly identifying the meaning of my shirt (which says "Shut Up Gus" in the first picture. Aussies are not eligible, so shush!

Good and Bad

The Good: Queensland were able to win game 2 of State of Origin, thereby wrapping up the series and sending all those Blues supporters crying into their beer. Final score 10-6.

The Bad: I no sooner sat down to do my write up on just what this State of Origin football match is than a plaintive cry of "Mommy... Mommy... Mommy!!!!" started from Her Majesty. She had put on her new flannel pyjamas this afternoon as soon as we got home and she was so excited to have them. I forgot to put a Pull-Up on her when she went to bed, however. Hell. This happened to be one of those rare nights she wasn't dry and I've just had to change the entire bed, not to mention her. She's now awake and wanting me to sit with her until she falls back to sleep. Double Hell. And I still haven't washed the dishes. I don't see bed in my immediate future.

What does this mean for you? No explanation til tomorrow. Sorry, but you will get one eventually.

Slapped Cheek Sniffleupagus

If it's not one thing, it's another. I finally get back online and now I've got a house full of sick kids. Coughs, snotty noses, chapped lips, the lot. All likely due to Fifth disease.

I took Her Majesty to the GP last Monday after an outbreak of a mysterious rash on her cheeks. She seemed fine otherwise, so I thought it was an irritation of some sort. The pharmacist wouldn't give me anything OTC since it was on her face so I had to go see the doctor. Fortunately they bulk bill so at least I was wasting only my time to be told it was eczema or something similar.

Of course when we got there that afternoon, the bright red rash had faded on her face but she had a new one on her arms, legs and, er, back cheeks. The doctor was looking her up and down as I explained what it had looked like on her face. "Honestly, it looked like I had just smacked her."

He smiled knowingly and pronounced this to be Slapped Cheek virus. Slapped what? I thought he might of been making the name up, as I had never heard of it through all my years as the mother of a teenager or my studies as a nurse. Why hadn't my older kids ever had this? It wouldn't have spared Her Majesty, but at least I would've know what it was and not have wasted that hour in the waiting room. It's a virus so you can't treat it. All you can do is wait for it to dissipate on its own. Fortunately the rash part seems to have skipped everyone else in the house, especially Clive.

But of course it doesn't end there. As the rash was fading, someone (probably Her Majesty) brought home a cold to share. Or maybe it's the SC virus spreading - since the rash generally affects kids under 10 and both cause runny noses, coughs and the like, who can tell? Or it's both. All I know is I spent the long weekend feeling Clive's chest rattle with phlegm, wiping snot from Her Majesty's face, picking up discarded tissues from everyone and administering lots of Demazin. My nights were full of little sleep as clogged noses meant disturbed sleep for little ones. The rash has made a comeback on Her Majesty as a result, and did I mention Clive's been constipated? Good times, people, good times.

Oh, and I continue to get my ample ass handed to me on a plate in the footy tipping stakes. I finally beat Miss WTF this week 3 tips to t2, but lag behind on the overall ladder. Is it any wonder I remain fallen off the dieting wagon? I think I'm starting to leave an impression in the ground, so hard was my fall. And the pool pump broke. Did I mention the good times? Ah, I see I did.

But still I find reasons to get out of bed. Like the hope I will once again see Shane Webcke going for his morning run along the main road as I take Miss Thing to school like I did this morning. Apparently he lives not too far from me. The sight in my rear view mirror made my day - thanks Webbie!

Happy Birthday

Ok, so it's not really her birthday. I think it's sometime in April. In fact, it's April 21. But here in Australia (except for Western Australia - they just have to be different) we celebrate the Queen's Birthday tomorrow. I thought perhaps it was Queen Victoria's birthday. She was Queen when most of Australia was settled by Europeans, and has two states named for her. But alas her birthday was May 24, which is when Canadians celebrate the Queen's Birthday. The Wikipedia page on the subject isn't very clear either.

Here's my thought - Australians were short of holidays in June, so they picked the second Monday to bag themselves a three-day weekend. I'm going to use it as an excuse to have some cake.

Saturday Skinfest

The Freezing My Boobies Off Edition.

People think of Australia as a hot place. Scorching deserts, sun soaked beaches, endless summers. That's crap. It gets cold here. Miss Thing is going on a ski trip to New South Wales in August with her classmates. Outside was a toasty 50 degrees F (10 C) while inside is all of 60 F (15.5 C) this morning. Sure it's not winter by New England/Midwest US standards, but it's compounded by the fact we have no heat! The overwhelming majority of homes here do not have central heating of any kind - even new houses! So I'm bundled up in my terrycloth bathrobe, pyjamas and 'roo slippers dreading taking a shower because I cannot linger under the hot water due to the drought!

Let's find some NRL hotties who look as cold as I feel. Why does a 'recovery session' often include immersion in cold water? Ask these guys from the Melbourne Storm or the Australian national team, because I didn't think mass shrinkage would do a fella any good at all:


I thought about finding a sexy lass whose, ah, 'headlights were on' but I'm too cold to sit here much longer. So how about a backshot of Boomer from Battlestar Galactica in front of a toasty fire? Will that do ya? Cos I'm warming now just looking at her:


More skin, more heat, next week!

Photo Friday

In an exhausted condition from caring for four ungrateful beautiful children, you fall into a comatose-type slumber on the coach. The eldest male hellspawn child takes advantage and snaps an embarrassing staged photo. Do you:

a) destroy the evidence while simultaneously slapping said child upside his head
b) have a good laugh and then destroy the evidence
c) post said picture to your blog to negate the blackmail factor, but really just to generate traffic

Shame? Pride? I know not these noble words, at least not when it comes to boosting my traffic.

Schoolhouse Rock

When I was back in the States back in 2004, I found a Schoolhouse Rock DVD and instantly snapped it up. Any adult who grew up in the States during the 70s will remember Schoolhouse Rock. We learned grammar, math and very biased US history without realizing it. Her Majesty loves watching the DVD, telling me she "needs to do my learning now". I've tried to explain the concept to my Aussie friends, who never had this, but they look at me like I'm nuts.

Thanks to the power of YouTube, I give you a few of my favourite Schoolhouse Rock clips. Quick, view them before someone decides they violate copyright law and pulls them:


Ah, this was how I learned what a conjunction was!


This is how I learned to count by 5s, and how money was related to math!


Can you imagine this being aired today?

Try not to waste too much time watching all the others you can find! I'm working on catching up now that I'm back online (for the moment - the Hermit still has to reconnect the routers tonight) so don't give up hope.

Can You Hear Me Now?

I'm having MAJOR connectivity problems here at Chez Mooselet. Not sure if it's the modem, the router, the computer or some bizarre combination of the three. I'm here at the moment, but not sure if it'll last.

Just when I had caught up on all my blog reading... dammit! Anyway, hopefully we're on the road to recovery and all will be well again in the next few days. Keep your fingers crossed for me!

Saturday Skinfest

The Broken Heart Edition.

Well, Brisbane Broncos, you did it. Last night you succeeded in ripping my football-loving heart right out of my chest and stomping on it with your too big and totally ineffectual boots. How can so many of you play in State of Origin and stage one of the best comebacks of all time, how can you win 71-6 against Newcastle last week and yet lose to a Dragon's side that was missing more of its starters than the aforementioned Knights? And don't give me that "Lockyer got injured" excuse - truth of the matter is you weren't looking that good before he copped that knee in the back. I watched Hunt try to rally you, to light that fire in your bellies but he was fighting a losing battle. You're hopeless.

It doesn't help I'm totally hormonal owing to the monthly blood-letting ritual that is a woman's curse. But they're still hopeless. So let's see who we can dig out this week to lift me from my doldrums. Hmmmm... what about Reni Maitua? Surf's up:

Or how about Matt Cooper? Oh my, I'm feeling a little better now... and a little warm...

There are lots of hot Aussie chicks out there - how can there not be in a country full of some of the best beaches ever? One of the hottest of all time, the gorgeous Elle MacPherson:

More skin, less vitriol, next week!

Photo Friday

One of my favourite websites is NASA's Astronomy Picture of the Day. There is not, nor has there been or ever will be, an artist who can compete with this:

I have hundreds of pictures from this site and continue to be amazed. Go and check them out. Now. Bookmark them. This I command...