Rich Webb

Jocky Wilson was an absolute legend with the arrows - you couldn’t help but love him. He had a sublime touch when he was throwing yet to look at him, well, he couldn’t have appeared any less sporting.

He was a small lump of a thing with a cheeky grin. He had the stature of someone who obviously didn’t waste his time getting up at 4am for a 10km run before refuelling with Total yoghurt.

His game was in his mind, and trust me he was the real deal when it came to competition darts. You don’t get to be world champ at anything without being something special - he did it twice.

Jocky’s prime time was also when darts were blasted everywhere on the telly and when it was a sport you took for granted as part of the mainstream (growing up in the UK that is) - we all had a go at Christmas and at family parties. Reading this reminded me of how much fun it all was:

Jocky Wilson was a one-off that made a nation smile

I found this surprisingly sad though, partly because Jocky did it tough in his later years, but also because his era was a time when sport was still filled with characters who were both brilliant and entertaining. When everything wasn’t so media managed. When people had a character with something to say outside of the 120 per cent focus on what they did.

Today. I find our sporting lot one-dimensional, earnest and dull - so what that they go one tenth of a second faster than they used to; it’s supposed to be entertainment.

Thing is, you didn’t see Jocky boring the pants off anyone with yet another media-managed interview blathering on about how his bung knee is recovering, or how training is going well and that he now feels the best he’s ever done mentally about the next [insert some event we are now getting completely sick of because they’ve promoted the arse out of it].

Gawd no! Bring Jocky’s sort back! And send today’s sporting dullards into a room with the new Madonna album and let them all have a good warm lemon cleanse together and a lie down. And lock the door on the whole lot of them.

End rant.

… and talking about whether it would be more comfortable cycling on a flat pneumatic or the wooden rim. And whether Italian tyrewall white would make any difference to the velocities and trajectories with either. As you do.

We were on the blower, inter-continental style, gas bagging between the hot red space of Australia and the red hot economy of Germany. Feeling a little cosy on topics cycling.

Then out of the blue, one of us said, and I forget which: ‘What about some music then, bug-a-lugs?’

It fired like a gun that hadn’t been seen for at least two chapters in the plot - but had been prominently positioned early on nonetheless (this bit bracketed).

Stumped for a millisecond, we both nodded in agreement - it was definitely time for some music action. Yesterday was a good time to start - and like pronto. So the brilliant news is:

1) We have a German tour happening

2) It kicks off on May 3

3) There’s a lot of Bavarian action early on

4) We are also heading to Blightly after that in early June until June 18

5) Stuff’s going to be better than good  and the stuff that isn’t, we dont care about

More deets to come very soon.

Let the bicycles trundle.

You could cook an egg on the car bonnet around these parts right now. There’s room in the kitchen to swing a cat (an old Sheffield joke - you had to be there at dirty Sturton Ave), the fridge is working overtime, and if the hot water system blows right now, well we just don’t care… Melbourne is steaming… and my lettuces can barely take it. 

A Happy New Year to all of you: May there be much success, a three-quarters full cup all round and peace on earth.

In various doings, I recently interviewed cracking and very gentlemanly LA celebrity photographer James White for a fashion magazine, and reviewed a shed load of CDs for the same - Box Magazine that is.

I’ve had some great news - birth of our new son Alfie fits that bill for sure - been delighted that one of our old mates in London Howard Bargroff is finally getting some just desserts for his amazing film sound work, and also received some really sad news too about an old friend in Nottingham that made us all cry.

Life’s sometimes short, right? You’ve got to make the most of it while you can. So with that, I’ll pass on a comment I received recently that makes a lot of sense right now: make this year count.

Frazier! Frazier! Have you seen how cool that guy used to look back in the day? Heavyweight boxing champion of the world. Total master of his game. One of the greats of all time. And the finest gentlemen. Certainly finer than most - then or any time since.

Watch him being interviewed: he’s all grit, determination and pride. Just like the way he used to fight. But he also had a real respect for his opponent and the people around him - without ever taking an easy backward step.

He went on talk shows with Ali in the early 70s when they were in the middle of their classic grudge fights. Try finding something like that today - more to the point, that you want to watch also.

Yet both were far more entertaining than the arrogant dicks presenting. It’s the same breed still involved now. It’s still all about their fake nothingness and prancing around coffee cups until someone comes along who doesn’t let them do it. Then they get all huffy. Watch Frazier and Ali with some US prime time dickster here.

Here’s Frazier and Ali looking like rock stars but with something to say. The banter between them has a clear edge that also says we totally respect each other. But as Ali puts it, when the bell goes, it’s game on regardless. That’s what it’s all about. It’s sport as art, and vice versa. Ali lost that respect along the way. Frazier didn’t.

This clip reminded me a bit of Dylan in ‘Don’t Look Back’ on his second tour of England. That same thing where it’s another world that’s landed and everyone around them is trying to catch up.

The pair wore great suits and cool shoes with stack heels and they had that one thing that seems to be missing with most people who hit the front these days - genuine integrity. They were real. Frazier much more than Ali.

Regardless of who you reckon was the better boxer; it doesn’t matter. They were both in the same league - the one right at the top. Both were giants at their game. It’s like the Beatles vs the Stones thing, why bother? So Ali had the better riffs; Frazier had a devastating left hook. Yada yada. The fact we are still talking about them more than 40 years on from their heyday says it all.

I watched the fights again when I heard Frazier had died. They are still enthralling. Check them out. Seriously. If you enjoy boxing at all, these are the absolute classics. There’s only three and you can probably miss the middle one.

Ali’s ‘The Greatest’ right? Probably is. But if he is, Frazier’s pretty close - with some qualities that are better in my book. Watching the fights again I don’t think you can call it either way between them - each was a winner. More than anything, they were also both winners to have even got there in the first place.

But watch how Frazier completely and unrelenting dominates Ali in every fight - with persistence, pride, skill and rude aggression. He pushes him around the ring; makes him uncomfortable; gets stuck in; and uses incredibly fast reflexes to avoid Ali’s lightening combinations. And when Frazier strikes; it’s like a viper.

Frazier uses guile in the same way Ali does before unleashing a left hook that could leave a rhinocerosdead in its tracks. Frazier never takes a backward step. Watch them. And when he lands that left, it’s like something from Popeye.

There’s a thing with the fights I’d forgotten too: Frazier was such a little guy! Under six foot and 92kgs. He’s not much bigger than me. How the hell did he do it? Ali and Foreman are giants of men. He was so much smaller except in the all important qualities of guts, will, determination, skill, heart and integrity.

In the first Frazier-Ali classic, the ‘Fight of the Century’, Ali shows many of his incredible silky skills, no disputing that. But Smokin’ Joe takes everything Ali’s got wide open and on the chin without budging an inch - and hammers back, each and every time. And harder.

It’s a fantastic fight. And every time Frazier smacks Ali with that incredible left hook, Ali looks like he is going down. He looks like he’s just seen a ghost.

Now Ali was a beautiful athlete, a masterful promoter, and among the top ever to box, no doubt - but he met his match in the ring with Frazier. Just watch it. For all Ali’s skill, incredible talent and showboating, Frazier is an unstoppable force - he’s this huge rugged passionate fighting machine. Frazier wins it, and rightly so.

In the third, ‘Thrilla in Manila’, Ali is even better early but Frazier even more determined. It’s a slugfest. Neither gives an inch. A doctor eventually stops the fight ahead of the final and 15th round. Frazier and Ali needed stopping - they would have gone again for sure, and for as many as it took after that until one of them couldn’t move. It’s an uncomfortable fight to watch but you can’t help but have total respect from both by the end of it.

Apparently Frazier’s ring man determined his man couldn’t see anymore - he certainly didn’t look like he could with a face like a red balloon. Ali’s team was apparently also contemplating throwing in the towel because Ali couldn’t move.

Ali won. Both emerged great champions.

Great man, Joe Frazier.

So what’s the best way to do this? Umm, just watch the bl**dy show for f’s sake!

Stiff Kittens have two fine tracks in tomorrow’s episode of a great new comedy series in Australia called Housos - ‘I Want You’, a live take from a JJJ session for Richard Kingsmill, and ‘Eight Wheels’ which is one of Rob Lastdrager’s numbers and produced by Tony Cohen.

Action starts at 10pm, and it’s on SBS.

It’s not every day your stuff makes a national television show - and when it does, it’s particularly satisfying that it happens to be a really good one. Last week’s episode was great.

They are also playing heaps more Stiff Kittens through the rest of the series, so stay tuned.

Hey also, there’s a new Stiff Kittens album out ‘Greatest Trips’ which is 11 of the best of the Kittens remastered, including all the songs that are going to be on the Housos show. Email stiffies@allkiller.com.au to grab your copy.

Plug over - normal service to resume shortly…

It’s the hypnotic gyrating rhythm of ‘Rock on’ - yeah! Still completely brilliant close to 40 years on. Seriously check it out, it’s a stayer.

The film ‘That’ll be the day’ was pretty good too with Ringo and Keith Moon - miles better than it should have been. The follow up ‘Stardust’ is OK and he supports West Ham apparently, so you can’t completely rule him off - liking the claret and blue and such.

But what did it for me was this: we were on tour with the Stiff Kittens through England quite a few years back and pulled into a Little Chef or some such motorway joint about two in the morning following a show.

It was the usual grease ball city of back then, purveying vats of chips that were more a close approximation to soggy cardboard. There were some over-cooked sausages in attendance, a two-year old Shepherd’s Pie and peas that had been freshly farmed in a previous decade. Everyone working there looked like they were already dead.

We grabbed a bite, as you do to stay awake. It was dead as a doornail. Even the tea was rubbish.

Then something magic happened. A guy strolled in that looked just like David Essex but 30 years older. He had a couple of other dudes with him, one on each shoulder, who held themselves like they were bodyguards.

The main guy beamed and waved to the five elderly ladies serving behind the Little Chef counter. Suddenly each one of them dropped 30 years, grinned like they’d just fallen in love, and a couple brushed down their aprons and waved back. One of them shouted out “Hi David!” as the rest stood there awestruck. Everyone in this miserable place turned around to look.

It was one of the finest entrances I’ve had the pleasure to witness. For a moment there, in that Little Chef, the world seemed a better place. Magic - if you’ve got it.

Breaking news: Fitzroy venue too sick to host Rich Webb solo show this eve. Crack Rich Webb team has evening off washing hair. Show pushed back to Tuesday next week - same deal.

All tix for tonight’s show valid for next week. Heaps of special guests coming. Hospital passes at the door. Simpsons plasters perfectly acceptable.

Gertrude’s Brown Couch - 30 Gertrude St, Fitzroy, Melbourne - 25 Oct - front bar - 8.30pm