Snivelling rowing cryboaties

Nobody died. Nobody got hurt. But someone forgot to tell Drew Ginn and men’s four rowing team. A silver medal and these boofheads are carrying on like someone has been mean to their teddybear.

Later Drew Ginn said he hadn’t been this sad since grandpa died.

Is it just me, or should someone teach these snivelling cry babies a lesson and belt (if necessary) some sense into them.

I know they were favourites, I know they’d worked hard, I know Drew Ginn would have been Oz‘s most decorated rower if he’d pulled off gold. I get all that. But this is sport! Nothing is a foregone conclusion, much as we’d like the nice ones, the good-looking ones or the Australian ones to win. That’s why we watch sport live, cryboaties! It’s a game, anything can happen.

If you want a foregone conclusion you are in the wrong game. Instead watch a James Bond film. Or listen to Andrew Bolt.

The spectacle of these grown men carrying on like pack of petulant poodles is pathetic. And if you think about it, it’s un-Australian. Traditionally we are the underdog, not the top dog. And traditionally we are self-effacing in our achievements.

But this not-so-awesome-foursome wanted to win at all costs, even playing psychological games with the Brits beforehand, according to SMH. So not only did they not win, it seems the way they played the game wasn’t too flash either.

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