Australia’s swimming crisis needs more BS

Australian swimming: consider yourself officially within the filthy confines of that tabloid-created sinister wasteland.

That’s right, our dolphin factory is officially in crisis.

The blind pimple that slowly developed during the Olympic campaign in London finally came to a head last week with all of the explosive and greasy qualities that the bursting of a badly infected pore brings.

Every local patriot and his dog stepped up to apply the pressure of the two index finger squeeze to the booming zit, with administrators, former greats and even disgruntled team members coming forward with their opinions on the evaporated team spirit and shaved-down punkings from the Games.

Would you swim faster for this man?

As the week wore on, the furore gradually grew more feral as the rush to vent the goss intensified.

Watching those involved ripping hamstrings in the sprint towards any waiting microphone was tough to watch. It was unsightly scenes for a one-time eternal stronghold of squeaky cleanliness that now finds itself being followed by pesky bad vibes like a special blue cloud hounds a pool urinator.

Understandably, the governing body is beans-keen to get this sorted out quick-sticks. The abrasive tarnishing of one of the nation’s most respected sports, as well as the potential PR disaster of having reduced numbers of candidates for Uncle Toby’s adverts, has the superiors on the lookout for a rapid-fire refurbishment of reputation.

Will they go for the classic knee-jerk and flush the bad seeds from the ranks? What about an audacious poaching of athletes from other water sports? Or what about we nick a blueprint for success from one of our many arse-kicking rivals, provided it’s not the Brits?

These are all feasible options straight from the bible of fresh starts. However, for effective relief, I believe we need to look left of centre and in-house.

The job is prime for a man who can sweep a place clean like Dick Van Dyke before applying some deputy principal-style muscle and discipline.

Swimming Australia needs the services of the rebuild king, and that man is Brian Smith.

End the pain now.

Forget for a moment about a long-term messiah. We know Smith has a definite shelf life, so give him the reins on a ‘knock em down, drag em out’ 2-year deal, which allows him to come in with a whistle and a grimace and simply extract the cancer from the organisation.

Think about the possibilities.

His distinctive style of mind-muddling philosophising and back pocket micro-management would have the egotistical creases in the Australian shirt ironed out in quick time. The disruptive pool fools would be thrown into a chlorinated haze of confusion with his regular changes of race plans being delivered by text at inappropriate times.

The cockiness of youth would be quelled and replaced by puzzled minds desperately trying to determine what the day’s training would entail. “Is it my start? Or my tumble turns? Is it kickboard work? Perhaps waxing?”

Poisonous influences such as Magnussen-style swagger and D’Arcy-like imprudence would be consigned to distant memory as Smith ruled with an iron fist.

There’s also the possibility that a major international meet falls within his usual honeymoon period of the first 6 months, resulting in an unlikely spike in fortune that sees the green and gold catapult back to the apex of a medal count.

And with his track record of choking at the big dance, he would fit in perfectly with our recently developed silver culture.

It’s a perfect fit like a pair of spray-on budgie smugglers. The fact that he’s currently on the lookout for work should have the Aussie pool people selling him the benefits of the black line right as we speak.

The answer is simple. Get in BS to filter out the floaters in the Australian swimming pool.

Leave a comment

1 Comment

  1. Mr Brown

     /  September 18, 2012

    I bet he’s got his application in right now. No sane NRL club CEO will come with a pool’s length of Braidsmaid Brian, and I reckon he knows it. It’s new horizons for the man Jack Gibson used to call “Frisbee”. I think Smithy should well take your advice and make a fulltime career move into being a clean out specialist; world sport’s equivalent of a plumber.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

Dane Eldridge Tries Hard

Contemporary rugby league surrealism and hot takes on Shane Warne

%d bloggers like this: