We-he-he-hellll… what a year it’s been folks… we had the Olympics, with only a little bit of cheating, the best Tour de France in years, which unfortunately had a lot of cheating, Ben Cousins has done his time, Lance Armstrong’s out of retirement, Harvs has entered it (sniff)…

So it’s time to present a few awards for the most outstanding sporting and sport-related performances of the year.

The Bradman/Boycott “Team? What bloody team??” Giant Make-Up Mirror for outstanding selfishness.

Goes to Cadel Evans’ highest-paid team-mate in this year’s Tour. Popovic was hired exclusively to protect and assist Evans on the climbs. He did neither at any stage of the race, and in fact went off on an unauthorised and unplanned attack of his own, which threw the day’s racing out the window and effectively destroyed whatever slim chance Evans had of taking home the Winner’s jersey.

The Milli Vanilli/Marcel Marceau “(silence)” faux-Grammy for mime.

Of course, goes to the Olympic Opening Ceremony for getting rid of a plain kid with a great voice in favour of a cute kid with no voice.

The Roman Polanski “I could’ve sworn she was older” Hand-Cream Endowment for jailbait exploitation.

Again, China gets this one, for creating fake ID for one of their own to squeeze an under-age kid into the gymnastics. One feels strange enough watching girls’ gymnastics without knowing that they’re that young…

The Iggy Pop “I’ve done more drugs than you’ve had hot meals but how good do I look anyway” Crystal Urine Cup for outstanding use of illicit substances while remaining one of the fittest, best-built men alive.

Can go to no one else but Ben Cousins. All the “drugs are bad, ‘nkay?” messages may just get lost on the kiddies when they see this horrifically-talented Adonis running around the field. Okay, so Ice can turn you into an arsehole, but hell, he’s a footballer, and plenty of them meet that criterion without methamphetamine.

The George Michael “Yeah? So? I’m fucking fabulous” Tight-Fitting Police Uniform for being fucking fabulous and really good at what you do.

Matthew Mitcham, Australian diver, won a gold medal against the ruthlessly efficient and seemingly unbeatable Chinese, by earning the highest score in Olympic history for a single dive. Truly a brilliant performance, matched only by the brilliance of his “I’m a diver and I just won a fucking gold medal. Well, since you ask, yes I am gay, but what’s that got to do with it? Hi, Mum!”

The Britney Spears “Hey, check out my brazilian as I climb outta this limo” Chamber Pot for really classy behaviour.

Shared by Brendan Fevola for pissing on the window of the Candy Bar in Chapel St, and Kane Johnson, who interrupted nightshift Maccas by pissing on the footpath out the front of St Kilda Rd police station as the van pulled up with dinner. You’re footballers, you can walk straight into any bar you want. They’ve all got urinals. I wish Fraser Gehrig was still playing, cause he could share this too, for that effort at the bar at the Mentone Hotel… what is it with footballers and urine? Special mention for Lance Whitnall’s intervention orders against his brother. (To the tune of ‘Billy don’t be a hero’, altogether now: “Brendan, don’t be a dickhead, you know we’ve already got Lance” – apologies to Greg Chamion)

The Tammy Wynette “Stand By Your Man” Lifetime Supply of ‘Nature’s Eyeshadow’ for loving acceptance of a footballer’s, ahem, basic instincts.

Goes to Wayne Carey’s girlfriend who stood loyally by as he boxed on with the coppers in Miami, and doesn’t seem to mind the occasional glassing or secondary dose of capsicum spray.

The Russell Crowe “Thirty Odd Foot Of Grunt are just Twenty Odd Pound of Shit” Complimentary Slab of New Coke Encouragement Award to encourage you to stick at what you’re good at.

Mark Skaife, who drives cars really fast and really well, decided a few years ago that it’d be a good idea to run a team and manage the money and the staff and the engineering, has lost a shedload of money and is no longer able to drive really fast due to the stress, and has retired from the sport. This would’ve gone to Mark Weber for getting injured in that bloody stupid endurance mountain-biking running fucking around on mountains thing, but he doesn’t appear to have the requisite “What you’re good at” when it comes to his day job. Though he’s very good at DNFing in Grand Prix’s, I’m not sure that’s actually in the job description.

The Mark Latham “Argle bargle where’s my fucking Prozac” Colander-With-Lots-Of-Wires-Attached, for reminding us all to disable mouth when brain offline.

Goes to Kangaroos coach Ricky Stuart (see my young apprentice’s article on previous page).

The Brendan Fevola “I wasn’t there, but if I was, I didn’t do it, but if I did, it was self-defence, but if it wasn’t self defence then that little Irish potato-fucking prick said something racist about my mate oh fuck it I plead Guilty” Imitation Handgun, Black Mercedes and Breath Test Certificate for honestly believing that being a footballer is a green light to be a total fuckwit.

Alan Didak. Heath Shaw. ‘nuff said.

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