I’ll be cracking open the beer (and biltong) to celebrate a small milestone tomorrow – one year since my first blog post.

It’s been an invigorating ride. My missus originally suggested I take the plunge and although I ummed and aahed for months, she persisted. She was right: there wasn’t a downside. Apart from knuckling down and getting it done, of course.

But once I hit my stride it became very enjoyable. Sometimes Twitter is too fleeting and condensed for my musings. A blog has thus been ideal. Given our sports environment, rich with its contradictions, controversy and chicanery, there’s always plenty to blog about.

The 10 things I’ve learned about blogging in the past year:

It’s easier than you think.

Angst can often get in the way of writers, but once you get started, it becomes easier. It soon becomes a habit.

Postings needn’t be long.

I have my long-time pal Mandy Collins to thank for this lesson. Mandy, an entertaining, thoughtful writer, told me not to get caught up in the need to be substantial. Clever writing is often succinct and to the point. Getting a thought off my chest sometimes requires just five minutes.

(Thanks, Mandy).

It helps to draw people in via social media.

You can write into a void on the false assumption that everyone is falling over themselves to read your blog.

Chances are few are, which is why it helps to leverage blog links off social media. I do so and it helps. I think.

Don’t be too serious.

It’s great to sometimes just have a bit of fun, or to be intentionally provocative. If it helps puncture odious self-importance, count me in.

Forget the cash.

My blog has cost me money, to host and support. I haven’t actually made any. Had that been part of the plan, I’d have shut it down months ago. The upside – getting my teeth into something, or simply sharing my ideas – far outweighs the downside.

The unlikeliest people read it.

I’ve had feedback and often the most encouraging has been from people I wouldn’t expect to enjoy the blog. But they do, and that pleases me.

Blogging sharpens your discipline.

In newspapers, sub-editors are reporters’ saviours, invariably fixing up clumsy copy or catching the dreaded grammatical error. When you blog, you’re on your own. You learn to be more thoughtful and diligent about publishing.

You need to be a self-starter.

Unless you’re very fortunate, blogging is a lone crusade. I’ve never had someone cracking the whip or pestering me to write. Happily, I do that on my own.

Pace is important.

I’ve had weeks where I’ve posted daily. Other weeks, perhaps just once or twice. But I feel strongly that barren spells are death for bloggers. I try my damnest to blog fairly regularly, at least every three days.

Niched writing is best.

I don’t pretend to be an expert on all things. My passion is unashamedly sport; this is the area I concentrate on. I’ve been lucky enough to be in a sports environment since my teens, so I’ve learned plenty along the way. Bringing this knowledge to my writing adds weight, I believe, giving ballast to my efforts at making “Mumble in the Jungle” a worthwhile read.

Thanks for your support.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

If you’ll excuse the expression, there aren’t many shades of grey with Jake White.

He is either adored or detested. I’m in the former camp, probably because I’ve only ever found him likeable, pragmatic and friendly. Plus he’s outstanding company.

White is shaking things up in France where his hardnosed approach hasn’t impressed the romantics who still foolishly cling to the notion that the French are somehow flamboyant and wedded to joie de vivre.

Those days are ancient history. White’s Montpellier recently smashed Harlequins to claims the European Challenge Cup playing the sort of rugby White had his teams play in SA.

Does White care for the naysayers? Not a jot, as this excellent piece in Rugby World tells us.

Gordon Bray is one of the most popular and knowledgeable commentators on the rugby circuit and seems to have been around forever.

ESPN caught up with him for a chat and what follows is a terrific yarn about coming through the ranks and calling some of the biggest games of all, including Japan’s heroic defeat of the Springboks last year.

The sporting zeitgeist is shot through with misery, although the New York Times predicts that the doping crisis afflicting almost every sport will have zero impact on sports fans. Like the suckers we are, we’ll still tune in and watch the pretenders and contenders.

The piece suggests that we’re suckers for drama and it would take more than a few doping busts to crush our spirits. Not far wrong, I suspect.

Away from sport, here’s a galloping read on a Ukrainian hacker whose story just begs to be turned into a movie. But who would believe him?

One of the best reads of the year comes via Evan Ratliff, one of the smart guys behind the excellent Longform podcast. He’s done a heroic job tracking down the staggering story behind Zimbabwe-born Paul le Roux, a computer coder turned criminal mastermind whose swashbuckling life is scarcely fathomable.

“The Mastermind” is a seven-part series of around 40 000 words, so it’s a meaty read. Set aside a few hours. You won’t be sorry – it’s the treat of the week.

I’m not sure what’s crazier, running Comrades in a cow suit or banging on the city council’s door for 20 years.

Richard Laskey has done both.

This weekend he tackles his 17^th Comrades, wearing his special suit for a ninth time in aid of CHOC, the childhood cancer foundation. On the scale of madness, that measures pretty high.

Laskey is a roll-up-your-sleeves kind of guy, so it’s not surprising that he is the force another outstanding initiative. Long a fan (and participant) of cross-country and mountain biking – he doubles up as ad sales boss of Modern Athlete magazine – Laskey and his mates are behind the development of the just-opened Huddle Park trail runs.

It’s a project that first had its origins in 1996, but typical council bureaucracy stymied it. Undeterred, Laskey went back again and again, finally getting the green light last year.

I made my debut on Sunday, running both the 5km and the 2,5km courses and thoroughly enjoyed the early morning. I wasn’t sure what to expect but was pleasantly surprised that Laskey and his team had managed to cut trails amid verdant brush and bush, an area I had little idea even existed at the course.

Huddle Park has had its issues over the years, but the club finally seems on the up, having become a popular family venue with appealing add-ons that make you want to visit.

The mountain biking trails have been open for a while, but the running trails are brand new. They probably won’t suit the hard core runner looking for a deep burn, but for a weekend warrior like myself, I found them fantastic. There has already been a schools cross-country event over the course with Huddle Park an obvious environment for kids, particularly as it is safe and accessible.

Laskey, who runs for Bedfordview Country Club, got going on the trails last October and did massive work clearing the paths with his mates. There are a couple of obstacles to negotiate – nothing overly strenuous, mind – but the route is largely clear and the sign-posting is solid.

There are about half-a-dozen spots where the path criss-crosses the MTB track, but these are well marked, not that it mattered: the trail was nice and quiet during my run.

There were a couple of muddy spots along the way and it will doubtless be more fun in the summer months when the rains come.

There’s a nominal R50 fee to be paid, which you do at the clubhouse, safe in the knowledge that the cash will be ploughed back into route maintenance.

I hope the trails become a popular staple among Joburg’s runners. Running off-road makes a refreshing change from dodging cars and pot holes and offers a fresh challenge.

Hope to see you there soon.

 

 

There was a time, before the days of Conan and the Terminator, that Arnold Schwarzenegger was the biggest, meanest, most shredded body-builder on the planet.

Arnie didn’t so much dominate body-building as re-define it. Austrian-born, he travelled to America with a dream and soon put their muscleheads in their place.

He cleaned up, winning four Mr Universe and an incredible seven Mister Olympia crowns. More than that, he pushed a sport from the margins into the light.

The film Pumping Iron featured the build-up to the 1975 Mr Olympia in Pretoria and helped launch the acting career of Schwarzenegger. Hollywood soon beckoned and the Arnie craze was born.

Schwarzenegger has become a cultural phenomenon and is commonly referred to as “The King” in body-building circles. His legend has even spawned a cottage industry, not least of which is the Arnold Classic. This is a four-day affair held every year in Columbus, Ohio, featuring a body-building and fitness tournament and a three-day Fitness Expo.

This week the franchise stops off in Joburg with “The King” himself rolling into town, 15 years after his last visit.

Schwarzenegger will be accompanied by some proper muscle in the shape of Hafþór Júlíus Björnsson, better known as “Mountain”, the 2,06m giant who starred in Game of Thrones.

It figures to be a meaty gathering of muscle, with amateur and pro body-building highlighting the three-day festival of 47 sports that features an eclectic mix ranging from badminton and cross fit to powerlifting and even chess.

Björnsson is a four-time podium finisher in the World’s Strongest Man event, where oversize brutes lift cars, pull trucks and generally make us mortals seem puny by comparison. He’ll be trying his luck again, but the man to beat is Brian Shaw, the 197kg beast from Colorado who has a bench-press best of 290kg. Yikes!

Schwarzenegger founded the global series, which also pays due homage to newer sporting pursuits like cross fit, dance sport, pole fitness and rope skipping.

The pro body-building contest offers R1,5-million prizemoney in the men’s open and women’s fitness divisions, giving local stars a rare opportunity to compete at the highest level. Strongman entrants will be chasing a handsome R800 000 booty.

On top of this, the festival includes a three-day Health and Fitness Trade Expo, which is expected to draw around 30 000 visitors, including 10 500 athletes.

I’m going. I expect it will be great fun.

More details here: http://www.arnoldclassicafrica.com/

It’s a treacherous time to be a sports fan.

The Olympic Games is just around the corner and already the stench from athletics is over-powering. Every time someone pokes about, a doper falls out of a tree. Drug-taking is ubiquitous with the Russians the chosen baddies of the month.

Do they dope more than others? Probably not. But it’s their turn to front up as the layers get pulled off their subterfuge.

In less than a month from now the International Amateur Athletics Federation will rule on Russia’s suspension from international competition. Given that it is highly unlikely that their anti-doping measures will bear up to scrutiny, Russia might well find themselves out in the cold ahead of the Rio Games.

If that seems unfathomable, consider the alternative – a group of possibly ropey athletes being allowed to compete, much to the world’s chagrin.

Russia is a super power in geo-politics and in sport, so the pressure on the IAAF will be immense. Too soft and they’ll be slammed, too hard and they’ll have an angry Vladimir Putin breathing fire.

Putin and his cohorts, who already suffer a persecution complex, will huff and puff, but the evidence against Russia’s athletes is damning. Indeed, a report in the New York Times last week blew the lid off a chilling state-sanctioned doping scheme at the Sochi Winter Olympics that had all the elements of a Cold War spy thriller.

The disgraced former boss of Russia’s anti-doping laboratory admitted conspiring with its secret service to supply drugs to athletes and swap dirty samples for clean ones through a hole in a wall.

If this seems a tad dramatic, consider the case of Caster Semenya, who may be the best female athlete in SA sports history. Officially, she is a 2012 Olympic and 2011 world championship 800m silver medalist, but what the record books don’t indicate – yet – is that the winner of both races was a fraud. The World Anti-Doping Agency has recommended a life ban for Mariya Savinova, but the gold medals are still in her possession.

Even if Semenya is named champion retrospectively, glory would be delayed and diluted.

As she said, “Even if they crown me Olympic champion, it is just an award from them I never celebrated. It wouldn’t mean anything for me, it would be great for my country but for me as an athlete I cannot entertain the thought. There was someone that finished first in the Olympics, whether she doped or not, I came second and that will never change.”

It’s a miserable response from one of the world’s elite runners, and perfectly understandable.

It gets worse. Midweek brought the catastrophic news that 31 athletes from 12 countries failed doping tests from the 2008 Olympics, which emerged after re-testing of old samples.

Our near neighbours Ethiopia and Kenya are also walking the doping high-wire.

Kenya recently missed a deadline to prove its anti-doping measures were sufficient, plus there’s the small matter of 40 of its athletes having tested positive for doping since the 2012 Olympic Games. Something is foul in Kenyan athletics.

Up the road, in Ethiopia, the situation is little better with a slew of positive tests in recent months. The World Anti-Doping Agency has also instructed Ethiopia’s officials to harden up their anti-doping measures.

It’s only fair to mention at this point that South Africa’s lone testing laboratory, in Bloemfontein, has been suspended on account of quality standards.

The greater problem for athletics is how poor the leadership has been in this regard. The IAAF, under Sebastian Coe, has underwhelmed with its handling of the matter. Coe’s claim that he never knew about the culture of doping within his sport is disingenuous.

As the beating heart of the IAAF, how could he not have known?

I expect we’ll be hearing a lot more from the Russians. Already we’ve had a heavyweight championship fight called off this weekend after the Russian challenger tested positive for meldonium, just months after Maria Sharapova was also bust.

Rio is under severe pressure to host an efficient and memorable Olympic Games. The fear is that the great city can’t avoid the messy clutches of the drug fiends who will doubtless be among the medalists – whether the Russians compete or not. – © Sunday Tribune

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Like the whack-a-mole game, it’s becoming fiendishly tricky to stay on top of all the doping busts.

Almost every week carries a new chapter in the sordid saga. The busts come so thick and fast I’ve largely become immune to the shock. Another day, another dope.

The New York Times had a cracker last week when it lifted the lid on what really went down at the Sochi Olympics. The narrative read like a spy thriller and was made even better by damning photographs.

The Russians were so brazen you wonder how they ever thought they would get away with their duplicity. The suggestion that Russian doping has been state-sponsored is now beyond dispute.

This story will run and run, but you suspect the game is up for the Russian cheats who are getting nabbed one by one.

If sport seems like a dark and grimy place, there are rays of light, like this heart-warming yarn on Reece Whitley, a 16-year-old “phenom” who breaks many of the stereotypes of the modern swimmer. It’s an inspiring piece, not least for a South African audience who may be surprised to discover that Whitley is a black swimmer of immense promise.

If Whitley is a sportsman on the rise, Amir Khan is on the downward trajectory after his spectacular KO defeat by Canelo Alvarez last weekend. This excellent piece in the Telegraph by Paul Hayward examines the inevitable crossroads Khan now faces and also condemns those who sought to mock him in the aftermath.

If, like me, you’re a fan of Instagram, there’s a first-class read on how and why the picture app has had a major re-design. The essence of the reasoning is that evolution is inevitable. It’s also smart.

If you’re reading this on an electronic device, it figures. The most devastating read of recent days came courtesy of this analysis by marklives.com on the sad state of SA newspapers. It’s a dispassionate look at readership figures and offers a brutal reality. Sales are down, shockingly so.

Talking to friends in the industry, so is morale.

Much like David Pocock, Clyde Rathbone is a social campaigner and moralist, someone who thinks far beyond rugby’s narrow confines.

It was probably a good thing he upped sticks and moved from the SA south coast to Canberra where his libertarian values and philosophical bent were doubtless better appreciated. He always was a square peg in a round hole. This week he wrote a thought-provoking piece that puts elite-level rugby in perspective.

While on the subject of thoughtful rugby players – there are a couple – SA-born writer Donald McRae nailed down a solid interview with rising England rugby star Maro Itoje. A likely England captain before long, he seems like a fascinating guy who treasures his African roots.

He’s in year three of a politics degree and despairs at the common depiction of Africa (his parents hail from Nigeria). It’s an excellent read by one of the finest profile writers in the business.

I would normally roll my eyes at another diet/weight loss/exercise story, but this article on vox.com offers a fresh (and depressing) view on why you shouldn’t exercise to lose weight.

It doesn’t dispute the health benefits of working out, but it forces an abrupt re-think of doing so. Good food for thought, so to speak.

Hitch-hiking doesn’t have even a tangential link to sport, but this read grabbed me nonetheless. I hitch-hiked plenty as a youngster, but it’s a habit that has gone the way of newspapers and video machines. Still, it retains some appeal, particularly doing so across America, so long as you avoid the serial killers.

Check it out. It’s nicely done with a neat denouement.

I’d recommend setting aside 20-odd minutes for this high-quality takeout on Ben Bradlee’s memoir of his years at the Washington Post. It’s a rollicking read and extraordinary to find out about the famous newspaperman’s close friendship with JFK.