No, I didn’t find it funny seeing a TV sport show last week zooming in on the last three letters of Ange Postecoglou’s name and what they sounded like.
No, I found it hilarious, made doubly hilarious when I recalled that another high profile Australian sports person of Greek extraction had bestowed on him the tag ‘‘the poo’’ for almost exactly the same reason. Mark Philippousis was also known as the ‘‘Scud’ but that’s not what we’re here for.
Ange is of course also of Greek background as he was born in Athens before migrating Down Under with his family when he was aged five years.
The big question is: will his moniker, ‘‘The Loo’’ become the twenty first century’s answer to ‘‘The Poo’’, which reigned unchallenged in the 1990s?
And is all this a coincidence — high achievers who originate from Greece copping such scatological monikers or just sport being fodder for comedians.
Having been variably called ‘‘the golden geek’’ or the ‘‘golden reek’’, and also being of Greek background, I would add myself to the list, except I am really ‘‘the humble Greek’’. Maybe.
But back to loos and poos: As a journalist I can see the headline potential of Ange Postecoglou becoming known as The Loo among the journalists of the land.
For example, imagine the Socceroos losing 6-0 to France to bow out of the 2014 World Cup. I know, it’s hard to imagine such a shellacking, it sounds impossible, in a never in a million years kind of way, but please try. OK, good. So, the headlines will be something along the lines of Postecoglou’s Hopes Go Down The Toilet. When he finally gets the shaft? Easy: FFA Pulls Postecoglou’s Chain.
There will be headline writers around the country rubbing their little hands together in anticipation of the fun they will have in the next five years with ‘‘The Loo’’ in charge of the Australian national soccer team — sorry, I got sick of calling them Socceroos.
See, there’s more to sport than ruthless attempts to win titles, it can really be a funny business, too. No wonder people like Roy and HG mined it for all it was worth for many years.
Speaking of funny business how about those dudes involved in boxing. They don’t come funnier than Anthony Choc Mundine, that old comedian from way back. Especially when he’s putting on a really, really serious face.
Or the septic tank, Shane Mosley, who boarded a plane home with his pockets bulging with only $300,000 he picked up just for arriving in Australia.
That’s a lot of Sugar, baby.
But none of the characters involved in this soap opera could steal the crown from the head joker, the Marrickville Mauler, Jeff ‘‘I Love Youse All’’ Fenech.
I heard him on the radio, and it was priceless. Classic Fenech. Em...en...err — he speaks a language all of his own, does the Mauler, but we love him for it.
Asked how his wife felt about him doing his dough, Jeff, as if being himself was not funny enough, hit the switch to professional comedian: Um, she won’t be buying any shoes for a while,’’ he mumbled.
Better than priceless, actually. I was laughing so hard my fellow motorists stuck in traffic in the Hume Highway must have thought I was an escapee from a lunatic asylum.
There was more fun in cricket — hello Davey Warner you shrinking violet, to Ricky Ponting’s new book being full of humorous anecdotes about a Kat and a Pup.
Stop it, sport guys, you’re killing us.
* Eric Kontos is the group sports editor of Fairfax Community Newspapers.