This year, in a surprise move, New Zealand is holding the Rugby (game involving men and balls) World Cup. Yes, here in the land of Too Expensive For The Likes of You, Milk and Now Without Eels, Honey we shall be doing what we do best and whoring ourselves out for some trinkets.
But, of course it is not about us, it is about The Game, and we have sold that up and down the river to make foreigners rich and, you know, trickle down a bit this way, mister?
Part of that is the erection of various barriers to stop dirty, smelly poor people from seeing any actual rugby and today a masterstroke in that direction has been revealed.
Yes folks, no Eftpos (magic card that lets you pay for things without using money, phenomenally used in New Zild) at most games unless you use Mastercard. If you go to games in Wellington or Auckland and use Mastercard, of course, you will be okey dokey.
Or you could use cash because that's so convenient at large sporting events. And bring pahlenty of said cash because the stadia only get you for 2 hours or so and have to wring you dry.
One is particularly impressed by the scam of special cards that can be loaded up and then have to be replaced when they are empty. Gotta spend it all, too, I imagine it becomes worthless as the fulltime hooter for the final game sounds.
Another possible scheme would be that the ticket price gets you into the ground where booths will be available for you to negotiate the rent for the seats you might want to occupy or you can go into the carpark and rent a TV screen.
There will be the usual rules about bringing any food or drink into the ground which might deprive the "caterers" of charging the equivalent of a West African nation's GDP for some fries inna paper cup.
The Game will be the winner on the day, IMO
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
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17 comments:
There will be the usual rules about bringing any food or drink into the ground so depriving the "caterers" of the quivalent of a West African nation's GDP for some fries inna paper cup.
In a pinch, an enterprising type with a sweet tooth can sneak in a Pavlova disguised as a fancy hat.
Argh, now there will be Hat Identification Squads!!
Sounding the hooter.
(game involving men and balls)
I play that!
I will sell souvenir cloaks and beads to the lovely English.
plameta, pre-born code
negotiate the rent for the seats you might want to occupy or you can go into the carpark and rent a TV screen.
pioneered, of course, by the Super Bowl.
There will be the usual rules about bringing any food or drink into the ground...
I'm happy to say I dodged these rules while golfing in South Carolina. Convenient, of course, that the game involved requires a large bag of clubs, and no search of same is performed on the grounds.
~
Plus you are golfers, a sector of the community WHICH NEVER LIES!
...plus golf can't really be called a game, more of a pathological compulsion.
Fetch, fetch the ball.
whalike, we all do don't we?
a sector of the community WHICH NEVER LIES!
No one axed me if I had beers in teh bag. They just had some signs up that implied you shouldn't.
~
Use the ladeez tee.
We used to take a core out of a good sized (12 pound or so) watermelon and drizzle in a bottle of good vodka overnight in the fridge. Then we'd go to the show, nope, no booze here, just a wholesome picnic lunch with fried chicken, french bread, cheese and watermelon.
Hey, what's YOUR problem, dood?
Golf thugs, ancient tradition, look what they did to get their fields.
Fair way, yeah right. (I crack myself up actewellee).
ingeshi, coming to a rugby pub near you.
*hic*
~
Holding the Rugby.
Let it free!
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