Swans Send Powerful Message to the AFL, Belt Geelong at the SCG

The Sydney Swans have used a rare primetime appearance to stamp their premiership credentials, handing out a football master class en route to an emphatic 110-point victory over Geelong at a crowded Sydney Cricket Ground on Thursday night.

It’s a result and a game that will have journalists swallowing humble pie after suggesting that the Swans had lost their competitive edge and were on a downhill slide, and a result that will surely give opposition coaches many sleepless nights approaching their team’s meeting with the Swans.

What more than thirty-five thousands mostly parochial Swans fans saw on Thursday night seemed like something out of a dream. For a long period of time, it felt like a dream, because Sydney were all over Geelong, dominating the Cats like few teams have dominated them in…well, the best part of a decade, really.
Right from the outset, there wasn’t much for Geelong fans to like. Only a few seconds had ticked by before the Swans midfield had cranked into action, sending a ball deep for Kurt Tippett to mark just out of the goal square.

Yes, the kick was horribly sprayed – to the delight of Geelong fans and the horror of those, in the majority, who were clad in red and white – but it was a definite harbinger of things to come. The Cats didn’t have a goal in the first quarter. They barely had the football inside their attacking frame in the first half.

Everywhere that Sydney could be better, they were noticeably better – streets ahead – with the exception of the scoreboard, where the behind and goal totals were neck and neck. Had Sydney kicked truer on even just a handful of times over the course of the 110-point mauling, then the shockwaves surely now reverberating through the AFL world would be more resounding than they are now.

Make no mistake, the Sydney Swans are legitimate premiership contenders. On Thursday night’s form, they will take an incredible amount of beating. I mean, this isn’t the bludgeoning of hapless Brisbane or a young GWS squad. We’re talking about putting up a century-plus win against one of the great powerhouses of modern days. There were times when Swans fans were rubbing their eyes in disbelief, wondering if this wasn’t some sort of wonderful footy dream.

Not a dream, but glorious reality. They way Sydney played o Thursday night against a pretty good Geelong squad (premiership contenders in the eyes of a few, at least before Thursday night’s shellacking) was as ruthless and merciless and chock-fill unceasingly brilliant defensive and midfield pressure as any performance I’ve seen from Longmire’s men (and Roos’ men before that) in years and years – maybe ever, in fact.

Yes, the Cats were missing two key defenders that allowed the Swans forward line, spearheaded by Tippett, Lance Franklin and Adam Goodes, to get off the chain, but that doesn’t take away from how their established stars like Joel Selwood, Steven Johnson and Tom Hawkins may as well have not made the flight to Sydney for all the good they did on the SCG turf.

At every contest, there seemed to be more Swans than Cats. Every bounce of the ball seemed to go Sydney’s way. Even when things didn’t seem to be turning out well for the Swans, it wasn’t long before fortune was reversed. Some nights, you ride a streak of good luck and good fortune. This was one of those nights, but emphatically backed up by a ferocious commitment to be first at every contest, to hunt for that footy like there was no tomorrow.

As is so often the case, the Swans, winners of six straight now (including rather emphatic wins against premiership heavyweights Fremantle, Hawthorn and now Geelong) were propelled to this giant win by their midfield, almost certainly, and with apologies to Port Adelaide and Hawthorn, the best in the league, and perhaps also the AFL’s hardest working group.

Unlike in recent games, it wasn’t the big names like Kennedy, Hannebery and McVeigh who did the lion’s share of damage to the Cats’ aspirations, but some of the secondary players. Craig Bird had the best game of his Swans career, and Luke Parker continued his dream season.

Of course, footy is a team game, and seeing the load – and the touches – spread equally around this talented group is very pleasing. Right now, there isn’t one Sydney midfielder who isn’t at or very near the peak of their powers. That’s scary.

With such good ball coming in, it’s no wonder the Swans forward line dominated. Tippett kicked five – with two in the first quarter alone, and a chance for double that in the opening frame – and the Adam Goodes post-injury resurgence appears complete, for the Australian of the Year was elusive and impressive force on Thursday, chiming in with three. He will endure a few nervous days, though, waiting for a Match Review Panel ruling on what looked like suspect high contact with Selwood. It was the only negative on a night full to overflowing with positives.

The third cog in the all-star wheel, of course, is Franklin, whose dominance was limited (despite four goals to his name) as he spent time dragging Geelong defender Harry Taylor away from goal. It worked, too, allowing Tippett and Goodes to kick the Swans to a big lead. It’s safe to say that the much-ballyhooed trio had it’s best game together tonight, and the frightening thing is that there’s still some improvement to be had.

On Thursday night, the forward line was the icing on the cake. It’s quite something watching the three superstars go to work, and despite dire predictions – ones that look rather hollow and silly now – that the Bloods Culture would crash, burn and implode, thus sending the Swans plummeting towards the AFL’s scrapheap, it would appear rumours of their demise has been greatly exaggerated.

Just ask Geelong, for it was the Cats who had a first-hand look at just how good the Swans can be.

Album Review: Brantley Gilbert - Just As I Am

My favourite release of 2014, so far!

Georgia boy Brantley Gilbert may be a country artist in name, but he is far removed from most of the rest of the artists who call Nashville home. Gilbert’s music leans more towards southern rock than traditional country, as is easily and quickly discerned by listening to songs like ‘Kick it in the Sticks’ and his big radio hit, the anthemic ‘Country Must Be Country Wide’ from his major label debut, Halfway to Heaven.

Just As I Am, Gilbert’s first release since 2010, is more of the same, and why not, with Halfway to Heaven becoming a resounding commercial success? The bad boy outlaw personality isn’t just a commercial act, but a reality, and it comes to the fore on many songs, especially on the opener ‘If You Want A Bad Boy’ and the testosterone-fuelled ‘Ready Me My Rights’, which appears on the Deluxe edition. It’s awesome beyond words.

The album’s second single, “Small Town Throwdown” features label mates Thomas Rhett and Justin Moore sharing verses, and is definitely an anthem of Friday or Saturday nights in Small Town USA, and as great as the song itself is, there’s something cool about hearing the three artists riffing off of one another between verses. It’s a heavy track that’s already making inroads on the Billboard charts in America as the album’s second single. Handily, it’s one of the best songs on the album.

It was the first single, ‘Bottoms Up’ that really launched Gilbert’s second major label release, and the tune with a slight rap touch to it, a song about getting drunk and, if the awesome gangster-style video clip – see below – is anything to go by, about running from the law and there’s nothing country audiences like more than an outlaw singing about getting tanked. It’s a song that’ll get into your head and stay there.

In keeping with heavily-tattooed Gilbert calls his bipolar self, there’s also plenty of mid-tempo ballads, the sort of stuff that wouldn’t be out of place on a mainstream rock release. In fact, Gilbert tends that way on most songs, with more crunching guitar riffs than there are slide guitar parts. It’s a niche that he just commands nicely, and although the music is heavy, there are many nods to Gilbert’s life.

As Gilbert always says, he doesn’t sing what he doesn’t write, and he doesn’t write what he hasn’t lived. You can definitely see the young Brantley Gilbert in ‘17 Again’, an ode to his middle teenage years, reliving the life he led and the girls he was with – you know, sneak into her bedroom and take her out in his truck – and in a small Georgia town before fame, fortune and Music City USA beckoned. It’s a wonderfully nostalgic tune, for those of us who left childhood long behind, but remember it fondly.

‘Lights Of My Hometown’ is another epic song, presumably about his hometown, Jefferson, Georgia, at more than 5:00 (a rarity in modern music these days) and sits nicely on an album which is interspersed with hard-rockin’ songs and heartfelt ballads. Gilbert’s bipolar self, remember?

‘My Baby’s Guns N Roses’ is a not-so-veiled tribute to the great 90’s rock band, and could well be a follow up to Gilbert’s own hit single, ‘She’s My Kind Of Crazy’ from Halfway to Heaven, such are it’s references to a girl being a rock star. Any song that name checks ‘Paradise City’, among others, is okay with me, too.

Many predict that Gilbert is going to be country’s next big thing – this album, which nicely mixes hard rock and a few good rock ballads (whilst giving many nods, of course, to country life and winning country song-type formulas) might be the first step towards domination. 

Just As I Am debuted at second on the Billboard 200, behind only the Coldplay juggernaut, and, thanks to it’s cranking rock riffs, has incredible crossover potential.

Let’s hope BG doesn’t wait another four years to release some new stuff!

Book Review: The Battle for Lone Pine by David W. Cameron

Most Australians are well aware of the Battle for Lone Pine. It is a key part of the ANZAC legend, and will forever be remembered as Australia’s only victory of the Gallipoli Peninsula – unless you count the successful and bloodless way with which the Australian and New Zealand forces evacuated the peninsula – albeit one that came at a great cost. In nearly every way, this was but a pyrrhic victory.

It says something that seven Victoria Crosses were awarded for actions of men over four days of fighting at Lone Pine, a key part of the continuing formation of the now-celebrated ANZAC legend, as well as being a part of the August Offensive (also, a British landing at Suvla Bay, the light horse’s fatal charge at The Nek and the New Zealand offensive on the commanding heights of Chunuk Bair) that was supposed to allow the ANZAC forces to break out from the meagre grip they’d had on Turkish soil since the April 25, 1915 landings.

The battle for Lone Pine was as ghastly a fight as there was on Gallipoli, four long days in the heat of summer, marked by bloody, mind- and energy-sapping confrontation at incredibly close range. The majority of the fighting was by way of the bomb (or, as we now know it, the grenade, and most often a hand-made version: nails and other scraps of metal packed crudely into a jam tin, with a fuse atop) and casualties were extraordinarily high.

David W. Cameron, the Australian historian who previously wrote so brilliantly about the landing in his book April 25, 1915, turns his attention to the only Australian triumph of the Gallipoli campaign, and shines a deserved spotlight on so many great and heroic deeds, so often performed by ordinary men. His words bring the battlefield to life: the horror of bayonet charges and bombing duels, the carnage in the narrow trenches, where men were forced to trample over dead and dying of both sides because the front lines were so crucial that stretcher bearers could not get forward to do their work.

Day by day, almost hour by hour, Cameron examines the battle from both sides, relying on testimony, both Turkish and Australian, from men who were there. There is little glory in war, of course, and Cameron does not paint the battle in a particularly good light. Though the ANZACs triumphed, it was a wasted effort that came at a great cost, because the rest of the August Offensive did not turn out as planned. There was no breakout and the Lone Pine trenches were only a few yards beyond previous Australian lines, a distance hardly worth the huge casualty numbers the battle produced.

Even so, The Battle of Lone Pine is a wonderful testament to the fortitude and bravery of so many Australians, so far from home, fighting in a conflict that they had little business being a part of, doing amazing things in the face of great adversity on that fatal shore.

Book Review: Lost Boys of Anzac by Peter Stanley

April 25 each year is perhaps the most sacred day (aside from Australia Day) in our nation's relatively brief but still storied history. The landing of the Australian and New Zealand Army Corps (ANZAC) on the Gallipoli peninsula in Turkey, to the wrong beach and against what turned out to be insurmountable odds, the Australians and New Zealanders struggled ashore and made a name for themselves. More than a name, but a lasting legacy that, 99 years on, we are still celebrating.

The funny thing is, little is known about the 101 men who died early on the morning of 25 April 1915. Respected historian Peter Stanley, whose book on Quinn's Post is nothing short of brilliant, has sought to correct that oversight. These men, arguably more than any other, are the key figures in the Anzac legend: the first to enlist, the first to fight and the first to lay down their lives for their country. It's a shame that their personal histories have not been properly uncovered until now.

Stanley has gone back through records and eyewitness testimony to trace the 101 - the Lost Boys of Anzac as he calls them - from before the war, through their enlistment, training in Australia and Egypt and, then, their fatal morning in Turkey. The background information on wartime events and the way Australia was in those weeks before the declaration of war is interesting. Financial hardship and drought seem to have affected many.

Interestingly, the Lost Boys are dead before you get to the 150th page, but Stanley continues on, telling the stories of their families, and the frustrating search for information. The divide between what letters from their deceased loved ones' comrades at the front say compared to official records is shocking, and must have caused untold heartache for families, who heard from the government that their loved ones were simply wounded, but received letters suggesting far worse.

Considering these men were the vanguard of the Anzac Legend, if you will, there has been little attention paid to them before Peter Stanley produced this excellent book. Read it to honour those men who were the first to die a long way from home, and read it because it sheds light on an amazing group of Australians who, hopefully, will not soon be forgotten.

Ryan Hunter-Reay Wins the 98th Indianapolis 500

To be honest, the early stages of the 98th Indianapolis 500 weren’t all that memorable. Some of that had to do with the fact that the race ran caution free for it’s first 149 laps, during which we saw multiple rounds of green-flag pit stops and came to believe that Colombian Juan Pablo Montoya, returning to the 500 for the first time since he won it in 2000, was in the box seat, with fuel mileage and speed.

No stranger to disaster at Indy (just look at some of his NASCAR heartbreak), Montoya lost control of his own destiny with a costly pit road speeding penalty, before American Charlie Kimball became the answer to a motorsports trivia question, being the man to bring out the race’s first caution period. It was as long as the Indy 500 had ever run into a race before a yellow flag. The previous record was 66 laps in.

Suddenly, the pedestrian opening became a frantic race, like the recent Brickyard classics, littered with late-race cautions and banzai moves showing just how much every driver in the field of thirty-three wants to win this race, and the ninety-eighth edition of the Greatest Spectacle in Racing will be remembered for providing the second-closest finish in the 500’s rich and layered history.

A red flag after Townsend Bell’s promising run came to an end with a hard crash, set up a classic finish. Most of the day, you had a feeling the win would be fought out between American Ryan Hunter-Reay, Brazil’s Helio Castroneves, Indiana native (and pole sitter) Ed Carpenter and third-generation racer Marco Andretti. They’d been the form cars all day, fighting amongst themselves and, at various times, with Australian Will Power, Montoya and other comers and goers.

Popular dark horse pick, New Zealander Scott Dixon, crashed out late, ending a shocking day for the powerhouse Chip Ganassi Racing squad, whose other driver, defending champion Tony Kanaan finished many laps down after a pit road incident. The team’s third driver, Kimball, brought out the first caution and wasn’t heard from again. That in itself is shocking, given Ganassi’s recent record at Indy. A bad qualifying effort last weekend was actually a warning of thing to come, rather than the exception to the rule.

After Carpenter’s day ended courtesy of a not-quite-gonna-happen move with 24 laps to go, one that saw Canadian James Hinchcliffe try to execute a pass three wide into Turn One on a restart and end up barrelling himself and Carpenter into the fence, it was Helio, RHR and Marco Andretti in the top three positions, ready for a run at the flag, for the Borg Warner Trophy and for a place in racing immortality.

And what a run it was!

There’s nothing like a pulsating, tension-packed final five laps to make you forget the early stages of the race. Not a classic event, but the 2014 Indy 500 will forever be remembered for it’s classic finish.  It seemed that leading was a poisoned chalice, and it hardly lasted, the second place car seeming to always have a run off of two or into three – usually, it was Castroneves on Hunter-Reay or vice versa – to make a race-leading pass, like so many legendary ones we’ve seen before.

Delighting Americans everywhere, Floridian Ryan Hunter-Reay became the first American since Sam Hornish Jr. in 2006 (and only the second American since 1998) to win the Memorial Day Classic, doing so by the barest of margins, a ridiculously close .0060 seconds, a finish that had everyone on their feet at the track and at home in front of the TV.

.0060 seconds – just how close is that? Next to nothing; not much more than a nosecone on an IndyCar. The front end of Hunter-Reay’s yellow Andretti Autosport Honda beat home the car of three-time Indianapolis winner, the hard-charging Castroneves, also in a yellow-liveried car, who came heartbreakingly close to joining a very elite club alongside AJ Foyt, Al Unser Sr. and Rick Mears as four-time winners at the Brickyard.

Alas, it was not to be. Hunter-Reay’s bold pass in Turn One on the final lap proved to be the difference and, try as Helio might – and try he did, right to the end – the 2012 IndyCar Series champion managed to hold on, even as Castroneves piled the pressure on off of Turn Four, resulting in a dramatic run to the flag.  It was RHR’s 13th IndyCar Series win, and will forever be his sweetest. For Helio, it was a case of so close, yet so far. There’s no easy way to lose an Indianapolis 500, but this clearly stung Castroneves.

For fans, though, it was another reason why this race is so revered. Indianapolis has a habit of breaking drivers’ hearts – just ask the Andretti clan, who haven’t been to Victory Lane since Mario in 1969 – but it also produces the most wildly entertaining and legendary finishes, and today added another page to the book of Indianapolis lore. This race throws up something amazing year after year. No wonder crowds in excess of 200,000 attend every year. No wonder millions around the world watch, no matter what time of the day or night the race is on in their time zone.

Instead of a history-making fourth win for the personable Brazilian, Indianapolis has another American-born winner to celebrate. A nice narrative on Memorial Day Weekend, when the nation celebrates all of those who have served in it’s armed forces, and a great shot in the arm for the uniquely American event that has, of late, been dominated by, in particular, Brazilians.

Unfortunately, Australians have not been a part of that international dominance, and nor were they today. Despite being a part of the lead pack for the middle portion of the race, IndyCar Series points leader Will Power faded to finish eight. Rookie James Davison came home sixteenth, and Ryan Briscoe was eighteenth, unbelievably the highest finishing Ganassi car.

Driving the first leg of an 1100-mile IndyCar/NASCAR double, Kurt Busch, in his first ever IndyCar start, finished a very respectable sixth, one place behind Montoya, and ahead of many more accomplished IndyCar regulars. A tremendous effort, capping off a great day for Andretti Autosport, whose cars finished first, third (Andretti), fourth (Carlos Munoz) and sixth with Busch.

So, Indianapolis spoils us for another year, and forever more, Ryan Hunter-Reay will be known as an Indianapolis 500 champion.

Congratulations, Ryan!

Opinion: NHL Sends Confusing Message With Eastern Conference Final Game 3 Penalties

As if the Eastern Conference Finals needed any more spicing up. After New York Ranger Chris Kreider’s inadvertent collision with Montreal Canadiens goalie Carey Price ended with the star goalie being ruled out for the rest of the season, Les Habitants surrendered a second straight game at home, digging themselves a 0-2 hole behind rookie net-minder Dustin Tokarski.

Game Three at New York’s Madison Square Garden started with a bang. Brandon Prust, formerly a fan favourite when he wore a Rangers jersey, and now a Canadiens role player, became an instant enemy in the eyes of the Garden faithful after a late hit on Rangers forward Derek Stepan, which left Stepan, a key cog in the Rangers machine, motionless on the ice for a few very scary minutes.

Replays showed that the puck was nowhere near Stepan when Prust hit him high and late, and it later emerged that Stepan had sustained a broken jaw. That means surgery, and it also means that Stepan will play no further part in the series. Shockingly, the referees missed calling any penalty on the play.

As could be expected, on Prust’s very next shift – you knew damn well it was coming – he was challenged by New York’s Derek Dorsett, and the two dropped the gloves. In the middle of that fracas, Rangers enforcer Daniel Carcillo somehow still got involved. Details of how and why are still a little sketchy, but what happened after Dorsett and Prust were separated was the real story.

Surprisingly, because no one had noticed anything untoward, Carcillo was given a game misconduct, and would play no further part. Later, replays (as well as eyewitness accounts from fans Tweeting inside the Garden) showed that Carcillo made contact with an official, going so far as to land – what looked like – a light sort of punch across the official’s chin.

Obviously, that’s a dumb move by Carcillo, and although it happened in the heat of what was a very combustible moment, there’s nothing I can write here to excuse such a thing. Rangers coach Alain Vigneault said that Carcillo would deserve the punishment he got.

Not even for a brief second am I condoning what Carcillo did, but I do have to scratch my head and wonder what on earth the people in charge of discipline are doing. The day after the game, Carcillo was assessed a ten-game penalty for his actions. They weren’t as bad as Prust’s, not in terms of actual damage done, so you’d expect Prust to get at least that long, and perhaps more, right? Wrong.

For the hit on Derek Stepan that put him out of the series – and the Stanley Cup Final, should the Rangers progress – Brandon Prust was slapped with a two-game suspension. If that isn’t exactly condoning a vicious, late and overly-violent message, it’s certainly saying to guys out there that you can get away with injuring another player and expect to sit for only a few games.

It smacks of being a token punishment at best. Who knows? Maybe the NHL has been listening to the Canadiens and the rabid press in Canada. After all, Montreal coach Michael Therrien didn’t think there was anything wrong with Prust’s hit. He thought it was “clean”. I’m sorry, was he watching the same incident? If that’s his definition of a clean hit, then Therrien needs to get his head checked and either his eyes checked or his glasses cleaned.

We have the two contrasting penalties here, and an eight-game divide. Carcillo’s bone-headed manhandling of an official, which really wasn’t a giant thing, principle (which I understand) aside, and Prust’s actions putting a player out of a series. This, ladies and gentlemen, is bizarro world.

Those suspensions should be the other way around. That it’s shaken out this way, that the NHL has decided that Carcillo’s actions were eight games more vicious than Prust blatantly levelling Derek Stepan when the puck was in another county, is laughable. Sure, if Carcillo had really whacked the official, then it would make more sense. I get that the NHL are trying to send a message here that officials can’t be touched, no matter the situation, but this isn’t the time, not in the face of what Prust did.

There’s lots said about the entire Canadiens franchise (not to mention certain sections of their fan base) and their sense of entitlement. I don’t think there’s a more loathed franchise in the entire National Hockey League, and there’s always been a perception – more a conspiracy theory, to be honest, one that’s fuelled by social media and the wider community of anti-Canadiens hockey bloggers – that the League favours Montreal in rulings and judgements. 

With this decision, NHL powerbrokers in Toronto or New York City, haven’t done a particularly good job of dispelling that theory. Carcillo’s punishment laid to one side for the moment, I find it hard to believe that the League can hand down only a two-game punishment for a hit that was obviously a head-hunter. 

Let’s not mince words here: Kreider running into Price was an accident – he was slashed pretty good, which cannoned him into the Montreal goalie – but Prust’s hit on Stepan wasn’t. He sits for his meagre punishment now, safe in the knowledge that he’s taken out one of New York’s bigger offensive threats. You can’t wrap that hit up in any other fashion than that. It was late, it was high, it was dirty and it was damn sure meant to injure. Well, it’s done it’s job.

Shame on the National Hockey League for not doing their job in providing a deterrent to other players who might be thinking about doing the same thing. If the Les Habitants come back to win the series and advance to the Stanley Cup Final, the Prust-on-Stepan hit may well be the biggest talking point from the East Finals.

2014 Indianapolis 500 Preview

The 98th running of the Indianapolis 500, the centrepiece in the season-long Verizon IndyCar Series, is poised to be one of the more historically important races in recent history.

We peruse the entry list and seem to say every year that the field of thirty-three is the deepest it’s been since the fractious American open wheel war between CART and the Indy Racing League that started in 1996, but a glance over this year’s driver line-up, and you’d be hard pressed to name a year – at least since the last unified Indianapolis 500 before The Split, in 1995 – where there have been more drivers in with a shot to win.

Starting from the top, and hometown native Ed Carpenter, driving for his own team, will lead the celebrated field of thirty-three to the green flag on Sunday afternoon (early Monday morning, Australian time) after a ballsy last qualifying run that harkened back to the days when Foyt, Unser, Andretti and Mears ruled the Speedway.

Carpenter figures to be strong. He always is on ovals, and has been fast throughout practice session all month. His second-straight Indy 500 pole displaced Andretti Autosport’s James Hinchcliffe from top spot, but we’ve seen enough from the entire Andretti stable to suggest that they’ll be right amongst the top runners come Sunday. Marco Andretti, 2013 Indy 500 Rookie of the Year Carlos Munoz and NASCAR star Kurt Busch, aiming to do the Indy 500/Coke 600 double, have all qualified strongly.

The Andretti Legacy, since Mario won in 1964, has been one of disappointment and ‘so close, yet so far’. Michael and John Andretti never won, and even Marco, has experienced disaster at the Speedway. He had the race won in 2006, until he was passed by Sam Hornish Jr. almost in sight of the finish line. It was yet another chapter in the Andretti saga at Indy, and this year looks to be the family’s best chance of returning to Victory Lane. It would be an immensely popular win. More importantly, the Andretti Curse would finally be laid to rest. There’s a definite feel that this might be the year.

Australia’s Will Power starts from third, a valuable front row start into that trick first turn of the 500, and is there a better place than at the world’s most famous oval race for the Queenslander to finally put to bed the suggestion that he won’t ever become a recognised oval racer? An Brickyard victory would forever alter people’s perception of Power. He’s been fast at Indy before, but hasn’t ever quite been able to get the win.

If nothing else, Power has two very experienced team-mates to lean on in Helio Castroneves and Juan Pablo Montoya. Fan favourite Castroneves has won three times for Roger Penske’s powerhouse outfit, and Montoya, before he was a Formula One and NASCAR competitor, won the 2000 Indianapolis 500 for Chip Ganassi, and famously quipped afterward that IRL cars were easy enough that his grandmother could drive one – the team had come over from the rival CART series and dominated the IRL field.

Fast forward to 2014, and Montoya has had a few IndyCar races to shake off the rust of years racing in tin-tops, and he has a history of being very good at Indianapolis, no matter what sort of car he’s driving. That Team Penske has won fifteen times in the Month of May bodes well for Power, Montoya and Castroneves.

Despite a poor qualifying effort, do not count out the Chip Ganassi Racing squad, led by the Target cars of New Zealand’s Scott Dixon and reigning Indianapolis 500 champion, Tony Kanaan. It is a strange thing indeed to see those red cars so far down the order, but these guys are too talented to remain there for long. Watching Dixon and TK come through the pack will be one of the stories of the race, particularly on the restarts, where both are dynamite.

Australia’s Ryan Briscoe is the third of four Ganassi cars (young American Charlie Kimball completes the line-up) and starts way back in thirtieth, on the same row as the third Australian in the 500, rookie James Davison (twenty-eighth), whose appearances on track in the third KV Raving entry have been few and far between. Indy is a tough place to be fast at even for the veterans, and tougher for a rookie with limited track time. A finish would be a positive result for the young Australian.

Simon Pagenaud, the Frenchman who won the inaugural Grand Prix of Indianapolis two weekends ago is another man to watch for. His Sam Schmidt operation is really hitting their straps this year, and Pagenaud is right amongst the championship hunt. He’s shown speed on ovals in the past and it’s only a matter of time before he cracks it for a big oval victory after two road course wins last season. It wouldn’t be a huge surprise to see the Frenchman win.

Pagenaud’s team-mate for Indy is Jacques Villeneuve, the 1995 Indianapolis 500 winner who is lining up for his first run at the Speedway since his triumph, the last winner before the CART/IRL split. So many years of out an IndyCar – or any open-wheel car, for that matter – is going to work against Villeneuve and I don’t expect him to be a factor.

Pole-sitter Carpenter’s team-mate JR Hildebrand was one corner and the front straight at Indy away from a win in 2011, but he whacked the wall in Turn Four, gifting an improbable win to Dan Wheldon. Before that, Hildebrand was fast and smooth, and, given Carpenter’s speed and his own ninth place qualifying effort, the rising American figures to play a part in Sunday’s proceedings.

Ultimately, though, this is a hard race to pick, especially given the way crazy things tend to happen at the Speedway. That said, I’d be very surprised if, with twenty laps to run, there aren’t Penske, Ganassi and Andretti cars fighting for the lead. As for who wins? I’d love to say Will Power, but I have a nagging feeling that this year might herald the end of the Andretti Curse.

Yes, Marco Andretti may well do what his father couldn’t do, and drive into Victory Lane – and racing immortality – at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway.

Join The Roar for live coverage of the 98th Indianapolis 500 on Monday morning from 1.30am AEST.

Thanks for the Memories, Teemu Selanne!

The saddest part of the Anaheim Ducks being ousted from the 2014 Stanley Cup Playoffs (aside from their 6-2 Game 7 capitulation to cross-town rivals, the Los Angeles Kings) was what happened after the final handshake line, after players from both teams on the ice, congratulated and commiserated at the end of another hard series. Don’t get me wrong, the handshake line was fantastic, and is a great part of hockey. The sad thing was what happened after.

You don’t see if often, but after the Ducks were ousted in front of their home crowd, instead of skating off what’s essentially enemy ice, the Kings remained where they were, and joined in the celebration as a true legend of hockey bid farewell to his adoring fans and, sadly, to the game itself. 

It’s not often that the unpopular victors of a Game 7 would remain on the other team’s ice, much less to honour a player from that team, but the guy with 8 on his back, the one with the scraggly hair and forlorn look of realisation and dejection, the guy Kopitar, Richards, Quick and co tapped their sticks for, momentarily becoming fans rather than players, was no ordinary hockey player. Which makes his retirement even sadder.

Alas, we hockey fans bid farewell to Teemu Selanne – the Finnish Flash, as he is perhaps best known – the forty-three-year-old veteran of 1,451 regular-season and 129 playoff National Hockey League contests. Ask anyone who’s ever played in the League, and they’ll tell you how damn hard it is to get a foothold in pro hockey, let alone stick around for twenty-one seasons.

That Selanne remained a fixture in the NHL for so long, and was still putting up pretty solid numbers (particularly when you consider the guy is forty-three) says a lot about the winger from Helsinki, who finishes his career at fifteenth on the NHL’s all-time scoring list with 1,457 points, and an even more impressive 11th with 684 goals. Ten times an NHL All Star, once the League’s scoring champion and it’s Rookie of the Year in 1992-93, he is currently the leading Finnish-born scorer in the NHL, and given that guys of Selanne’s stature don’t come along very often, you can pretty much bet that his mark will never be matched by any of his countrymen.

Universally liked and respected by fans, players, the media and, indeed, the wider hockey community, Selanne is a sure-fire first-ballot Hall of Famer and he deserves no less. Even the other team’s fans liked him. Don’t believe me? Well, late in Selanne’s last game, when the Ducks faithful took up their “Let’s go, Teemu!” chant on Friday night in Honda Centre, even the jubilant Kings fans joined in.

It was a glittering career, featuring a long-awaited Stanley Cup with Anaheim in 2007, after so many years of frustration with his first NHL team, the Winnipeg Jets. Selanne had two stints with Anaheim, first between 1995 and 2000, then spent time in San Jose and Colorado, before returning to Southern California after the lockout in time to see the Mighty Ducks become the Ducks and hoist Lord Stanley, Selanne’s first trip to the Final, and his one and only triumph after fourteen seasons, at age thirty-six. He had 15 points in 21 playoff games.

Internationally, there is perhaps no more feted player. Selanne made his Olympic debut at the 1992 Albertville games and featured in every Olympiad up to and including the most recent, in Sochi, Russia. By anyone’s estimation, this was an ironman-type stretch, the sort of longevity that every player searches for, but very few find. Selanne’s Olympic medal haul consisted of three bronze (2014, 2010 and 1998) and a silver in 1998. He won a bronze (2008) and a silver (1999) in World Championship play.

After the 2006-07 Cup run that Selanne first thought about retirement. Then he decided against it, coming back again and again. The guessing game would become a popular off-season event for hockey fans around the world. He sat out the start of the 2007-08 season, eventually making up his mind, returning in January, and in his third game back, scored his 670th point as a member of the Ducks, breaking the record of the great Paul Kariya.

Selanne played his 1,100th game during the 2008-09 season, which included his 1,100^th game, thus becoming he sixth European player to score 1,200 career points. Later in the season, he featured in his 100^th playoff game.

In 2009-10, Selanne became the 18th player in NHL history to score 600 goals, and, with goal 602, surpassed his childhood hero, another Finnish legend, Jari Kurri. In 2010-11, he scored his 1300^th point, and despite the return of Winnipeg to the NHL that offseason, Selanne remained with the Ducks, prospering, and earning an invite to the 2012 NHL All Star Game.

We thought it might have been the end after the lockout-shortened season of 2012-13, but Selanne came back, announcing that 2013-14 would be his final campaign. It seemed hard to believe, because we’d heard whispers for years that he wouldn’t come back, only to see him do the opposite. This time, though, the ‘R’ word (retirement), came from Selanne’s mouth. They had an edge of finality to them this time.

In his last season, despite being used sparingly by Ducks coach Bruce Boudreau, Selanne remained an important player, a spiritual leader in the locker room of a team that was at or near the top of the NHL standings all season, and certainly a mentor for Anaheim’s prospects.

Sadly, Friday night in Anaheim was the curtain call for a brilliant player and an even better person. His final season would not end with the fairy tale we all wanted – another Stanley Cup win – but the farewell from Kings and Ducks fans and players alike befitted a man who has, in many ways, transcended a team, to become a legend of the game as a whole.

Anyone who saw Selanne on the tear, a burst of speed, a quick shot, an exuberant post-goal celebration, will never forget it. He was a hard guy not to like. If he had any enemies at all in the game, they were incredibly few and far between. Selanne’s epitaph could well read: A great hockey player, but a greater man.

Farewell the Finnish Flash, and thanks for the memories! Hockey won’t be the same without you!