Why golden boy’s tale will become the stuff of legend

And the old man gave his orders, “Boy, go at ’em from the jump,
No use to try for fancy riding now …
Ride boldly, lad, and never fear the spills,

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Let’s go, Cooper!

The man from Snowy River let the pony have his head,
And he swung his stockwhip round and gave a cheer,
And he raced him down the mountain like a torrent down its bed …
Through the stringy barks and saplings, on the rough and broken ground,
Down the hillside at a racing pace he went;
And he never drew the bridle till he landed safe and sound,
At the bottom of that terrible descent.

Bravo, Cooper. Banjo would be proud. We certainly are.

LIV and let die

We now cross live to Cam Smith, the one-time Australian golfing hero who took the money and went to LIV golf, and has never since troubled the scorer with a win. Could he, perhaps, predict where LIV will be in a few years?

“In a few years, I’m not sure,” he said. “I’m more confident of 20 years than a few years, absolutely. I feel like we’re doing lots of good stuff. I feel like we’re not getting some recognition. I don’t know if we deserve it, but I think the players and league are doing a good job of growing world golf. I think it’s a great concept. I can’t see it going away and I can’t see it not working.”

Let’s go through it.

So, Cam, you’re confident that LIV will be there in 20 years?

Why? Mate, it’s stinking up the joint something terrible. No ratings. No buzz. No money. And its whole raison d’etre – to sportswash the reputation of Saudi Arabia – has completely failed. If it folded 20 days from now, no-one would be truly surprised.

You feel like you’re “doing lots of good stuff”. What stuff, specifically? Outside golf-starved Adelaide, the thing barely raises a ripple. The main new stuff that LIV did was three-day, 54-hole tournaments, which they recently changed to four days and 72 holes. You know, just like the PGA?

You’re “not getting some recognition”? For what, exactly? What is there to recognise? You took the blood-money. They took the blood-money. True, few could have resisted. But is there much else to say, much else to recognise? And you personally have gone from being one of the best two golfers in the world to failing to make the cut in the last four Majors.

You think the “players and league are doing a good job of growing world golf”? Really? A civil war was actually good for golf? Pull the other one, mate, it plays Jingle Bells.

You “think it’s a great concept”? Do tell. Might that be because you got $140 million or so out of it? Mate, for that kind of freight, we’d all say a job biting the heads off whippets was a great concept.

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You “can’t see it not working”?

How hard is this? It is not working. It hasn’t worked. On last reported figures, it lost $US244 million in 2022, $US396 million in 2023 and – dot three, carry one, subtract two – $US590 million in 2024. Do you see a pattern there? I do. What part of that is “working”?

In sum? In sum, mate, it’s fair enough that you count your money – few could resist, I accept – but spare us the transparent bullshit. Cheers.

Sober restart for Slater

He was a bloke in a bright green fluoro vest who came into my local café on Monday. Looked to be in his late 50s, or thereabouts. Smiled broadly. Gave me a cheery wave. Came over.

It took me 30 seconds or so of light chat, but I finally recognised him.

It was the one-time wunderkind of Australian Test cricket, Michael Slater – recently released after spending over a year in prison on domestic violence charges. Immediately, I thought of the last time he and I had been due to meet. It had been at this very café, and he had wanted to talk to me about a book I had written on the virtues of giving up alcohol completely. He was thinking of doing the same, and wanted some advice. We had arranged to meet at 9am on a Monday morning, but he had cancelled at the last minute, with no reason given. A few days later, it emerged he’d been arrested.

And now here he is. How is he?

The short answer is, genuinely, much better than he was. Having served his time, he’s all square with the house, and he’s building a new life from the ground up. Yes, he’s rightly lost a lot – his freedom for a time, his reputation, his life savings from cricket and a long stint in the media. But at least he’s stone-cold sober, hasn’t touched a drop of alcohol since he’s been out, and is grateful to be out of prison. He’s living in a small place on the Northern Beaches, working as a labourer, and giving it everything. He’s had some contact with his long-time opening partner, Tubby Taylor, though the phone from much of that part of his life has gone quiet.

He looked at his watch. Gotta go. The blokes back at the building site were waiting on their coffees. A humbling turn for one who knows what it is to hit the English attack for six into the members’ pavilion at Lords.

What They Said

Australia’s newest Olympic gold medallist, Cooper Woods, just before nailing the free moguls thingummy, tearing down the mountain like a torrent down its bed, over lots of big bumps: “I feel like I’m skiing with nothing to lose at the moment. And when I ski like that, I feel dangerous.”

Woods, on the gold medal: “A pretty nice-looking beer coaster.”

New England Patriots coach Mike Vrabel said he would trade half his penis for a Super Bowl win: “I mean, I’d probably cut it in half. Leave her six.”

The German publication Bild alleging that some ski jumpers are injecting their penises with hyaluronic acid – across, Sydney, men are seen to suddenly shift uncomfortably – to be able to jump further: “A Frontiers study reported a 2cm increase in skisuit circumference reduces drag by 4 per cent and raises lift by 5 per cent, which could add 5 metres to a jump …”

An Instagram response: “It has actually come down to a dick measuring contest.”

Norway women’s coach Christian Meyer weighs in on “Penisgate”: “On the women’s side we are quite calm about the subject.” Don’t. Just don’t go there. I considered it, and wisely backed out.