Surprise Rusty!
it just me or does everyone think heroes sometimes come from the most unlikely places?
I’ve never been a massive Russell Crowe fan.
Obviously, there have been some brilliant acting performances, but deep down I’m pretty sure he’s actually a bit of a tosser.
Many moons ago when I was a country television reporter, a movie called The Silver Brumby was being shot in our general direction.
One very slow news day our brightest young cadet, Matthew, was dispatched to the set to interview anyone he could find.
At the time a movie called Romper Stomper was causing a bit of a stir, and someone mentioned the star of that flick might be filming the horse picture.
Long story short: Matt got Rusty in front of the camera and said something like, “So, Trevor, tell me about the film ...”
Russell didn’t take it well.
It kept the newsroom amused for weeks, playing and replaying the young Russell Crowe as he stormed away, yelling abuse at the junior reporter who dared not know his name.
Bit of a tosser.
Then there’s the fight at the BAFTAS, the fight at some pub at Coffs Harbour, the well-documented phone incident and a very dodgy attempt at being a rock star.
That’s right, tosser.
And yet, suddenly, in my eyes Rusty can do no wrong.
I am a bit old school. It might be boring but I love tradition. More particularly, I love people willing to put financial concerns aside to preserve tradition.
There was a time in Australia when going to the pub was a rite of passage: bands, beer gardens and long afternoons at the Sunday session.
It’s a different story today. There’s barely a pub or club in the country where you’re not forced to watch some poor fella put his last two bucks in a pokie machine.
There’s hardly any live music, and even when there is it’s basking in the reflected glow of Las Vegas neon and the “ring ting ting” of another pension cheque going down the gurgler.
Frankly, I’d rather stay home.
Around Australia, you will find almost double the number of poker machines in low-income areas.
Gamblers Anonymous claims that 30 to 70% of the money that goes through poker machines consists of welfare payments.
Thirty to 50% of the gamblers on poker machines are people who admit they are gambling more than they want to.
Russell Crowe and Peter Holmes a Court are partners in the South Sydney Rabbitohs. Together they plan to give the Rabbitohs back to the community, starting with the banning of poker machines.
If it happens, the ban could cost the boys $7 million in 2008.
It’s a brave move.
But Peter Holmes a Court wants to prove that without the stench of lives being gambled to oblivion, people might spend a little more time at the club.
Without the threat of hungry kids sitting in the carpark, more advertisers might be attracted to rugby league.
He’s already nominated Virgin Airlines as a sponsor interested in a pokie-free club.
I’ve seen pokie addiction first-hand.
Regardless of how gaming managers try to spin it, gambling is not always about personal choice and the community chest.
It’s about loneliness, compulsion, addiction and, ultimately, desperation.
So, Rusty, my new best friend, good luck. If you and the Rabbitohs can prove to the world there is life after pokies, you never know, I might even buy your dodgy CD.
Probably not, actually, but I'll definitely stop calling you a tosser.
I’ve never been a massive Russell Crowe fan.
Obviously, there have been some brilliant acting performances, but deep down I’m pretty sure he’s actually a bit of a tosser.
Many moons ago when I was a country television reporter, a movie called The Silver Brumby was being shot in our general direction.
One very slow news day our brightest young cadet, Matthew, was dispatched to the set to interview anyone he could find.
At the time a movie called Romper Stomper was causing a bit of a stir, and someone mentioned the star of that flick might be filming the horse picture.
Long story short: Matt got Rusty in front of the camera and said something like, “So, Trevor, tell me about the film ...”
Russell didn’t take it well.
It kept the newsroom amused for weeks, playing and replaying the young Russell Crowe as he stormed away, yelling abuse at the junior reporter who dared not know his name.
Bit of a tosser.
Then there’s the fight at the BAFTAS, the fight at some pub at Coffs Harbour, the well-documented phone incident and a very dodgy attempt at being a rock star.
That’s right, tosser.
And yet, suddenly, in my eyes Rusty can do no wrong.
I am a bit old school. It might be boring but I love tradition. More particularly, I love people willing to put financial concerns aside to preserve tradition.
There was a time in Australia when going to the pub was a rite of passage: bands, beer gardens and long afternoons at the Sunday session.
It’s a different story today. There’s barely a pub or club in the country where you’re not forced to watch some poor fella put his last two bucks in a pokie machine.
There’s hardly any live music, and even when there is it’s basking in the reflected glow of Las Vegas neon and the “ring ting ting” of another pension cheque going down the gurgler.
Frankly, I’d rather stay home.
Around Australia, you will find almost double the number of poker machines in low-income areas.
Gamblers Anonymous claims that 30 to 70% of the money that goes through poker machines consists of welfare payments.
Thirty to 50% of the gamblers on poker machines are people who admit they are gambling more than they want to.
Russell Crowe and Peter Holmes a Court are partners in the South Sydney Rabbitohs. Together they plan to give the Rabbitohs back to the community, starting with the banning of poker machines.
If it happens, the ban could cost the boys $7 million in 2008.
It’s a brave move.
But Peter Holmes a Court wants to prove that without the stench of lives being gambled to oblivion, people might spend a little more time at the club.
Without the threat of hungry kids sitting in the carpark, more advertisers might be attracted to rugby league.
He’s already nominated Virgin Airlines as a sponsor interested in a pokie-free club.
I’ve seen pokie addiction first-hand.
Regardless of how gaming managers try to spin it, gambling is not always about personal choice and the community chest.
It’s about loneliness, compulsion, addiction and, ultimately, desperation.
So, Rusty, my new best friend, good luck. If you and the Rabbitohs can prove to the world there is life after pokies, you never know, I might even buy your dodgy CD.
Probably not, actually, but I'll definitely stop calling you a tosser.
1 Comments:
I've moved out to the suburbs these days but I will start making the trek to Rabbitohs to support Rusty's initiative. And while Rusty acts like a tosser at times, I will forever be enamoured of him - in Romper Stomper he was the most sexually attractive white man I ever saw!!!
Bring back live bands and beer gardens!!!
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