Above Is A Picture Of An Auction For An All Black Test Cap. I Was Alerted To This Late Last Night And,

Above is a picture of an auction for an All Black test cap. I was alerted to this late last night and, like everyone else who found out about it, was quite saddened by this.

All Blacks test caps are extremely prestigious and rare. They're only ever given to those who play an All Blacks test match. To date, only 1,108 caps have ever been given out in the 127 year history of the All Blacks. These caps have to be earned, and they are only given out to the very best. To be given one of these is an honour. Which is why it was so sad to see one of these up for auction last night.

Shayne Philpott was the All Black who put this cap up for auction. Google his name and the first thing that comes up is an article deriding him as one of the worst All Blacks ever. He played 2 test matches in the 1991 Rugby World Cup and was never a considered a starting player. His games was criticised to the point where he still gets given abuse by the public. It got to the point where he no longer wanted this memento of his time spent as an All Black. How awful is that?

Philpott would have devoted hours upon hours of time training and slogging away until he reached his ultimate goal, only to be called the worst person to have ever played in his position. Ever. And he still hears about it 20 years later. That's gotta be heartbreaking. Unbelievably so.

Sure, you could tell him to harden up. He's already hard. He's taken crap from All Blacks/New Zealanders (there isn't a difference. Don't kid yourself) fans since 1991. You put up with that shit and see how you handle it. What he put with was bullying. It was abuse on a national level. And you can bet that there were dickheads who came up to him in the street or while he was by himself and let him have it. The worst part is that you still see this today. Look at the crap Stephen Donald goes through. Google his name and it's distressingly easy to find people throwing death threats at him or screaming for him to leave the county and never come back. Fuckin hell.

Have we forgotten that these players are people too? As it really so damn hard to be polite and respectful/not act like an asshole? Sure, have your opinion don't be a dick about it. I'm not gonna stop that. I'm guilty of going too far as well. Some of it's on this blog. But surely we know where to draw the line? Please don't prove me wrong. 

I don't have any answers here. I just think it's sad that a guy who worked and sacrificed for years to achieve a incredible goal received so many knocks that he decided to sell a something that symbolises his achievement. His since withdrawn the auction, but that was only after the kind words of some people in the question and answers section. 

I really fucking hope that the All Blacks win the 2011 Rugby World Cup. I don't want to think about what this country and their 'fans' will do to them if they don't.

Things I have learned from my time on Twitter

The best thing about having a blog is that I can write what I like, when I like. Because it's my blog and I'm not using it to fund my livelihood (...yet. Hahaha!). So this means I get to write about things that I give a damn about without thought of an audience. Usually it means I use this as an outlet to work through things. In fact, that's how this whole thing started - as an outlet to get through a rather shit time in my life. At the beginning of last year I remembered that I had a twitter account that I barely used. This was mostly because I didn't really get it. As a result, I decided to challenge myself and throw myself into the medium to see what happened and if I'd eventually understand it. What eventually happened was that I used twitter as an outlet to get through a rather tumultuous time in my life. I'm reporting back over a year later. It's been quite an experience and has been a rather fab and, dare I say it, essential part of my life during that time. I've found out tips, tricks and recommendations on a variety of subjects. I've won beauty products, wine, food and vouchers. I've watched a community pull together in the aftermath of a tragedy. I've made amazing friends who've been incredibly supportive and bought some real joy and sparkle to my life when I needed it most. I love those guys. There have been some real down-times too. I've done embarrassing things that I'm still reminded about. I've experienced the weird high of getting 100+ RT's and the abuse that followed. I've met people who seemed nice online and were rude in person, then subtweeting assholes online. I've been upset and let down by situations that held so much promise. I've been hurt and in tears over things people have said to me or about me or even done to me. Those times really sucked. But overall, the whole experience has been quite positive. The good times have far, far outweighed the bad times.

People are the same everywhere, whether it's online or in person. It's a generally accepted rule that an online persona can be very different from a real-life persona. A quiet, shy and rather nice person can be one tough motherfucker online. The girl who is generally ignored and not hit on can escape online and try to morph herself into some seductive temptress. But above all, everyone is the same. It's generally not hard to see what people are really like. If you become involved in Twitter for long and heavily enough, your persona will slip at some stage. People will see you. People are just as transparent online as they are in real-life.

There is no substitute for authenticity.

There are "Nice Guys" there too - those bastards are everywhere! They are also to be avoided like the plague. For reference, actual nice guys never advertise that they're nice guys. Actual nice guys don't finish last. I'm talking about those other "Nice Guys" who rush to defend or reply to everything you write. What I'm really saying here is, there are creeps here too. Don't give them your phone number or any of your contact details, don't meet them in real-life, but if you do, make sure someone knows where the hell you are and will come get you. Don't be stupid when meeting people. 

It's personality based. Your pic may attract people, but your personality will keep them coming back.

Good looking girls will always be popular. In real-life and online, forever and always. People are attracted to pretty. Make peace with that already.

You will find your niche. If you put the work in, it will reward you ten-fold with a group of people that you can happily talk with at any time and who even seem to like you. It's a great feeling.

It is absolutely possible to make friends on the internet. Anyone who thinks otherwise needs to break out of their narrow mindset. It's possible to make friends anywhere! Twitter people are real people with real feelings and real emotions, some of whom you will like enough to strike up a friendship with. How awesome is that?

Just as it's possible to make friends, it's possible to lose them too. As it is in real-life, so it will be online.

There's no such thing as 'deleted' on the internet. I can't emphasise this enough. If you tweet something or put up a picture that you may regret, then it's out there forever. Yes, someone will find what you've written or a damning pic you've put up. Yes, you will be judged by it. Be prepared to stand by everything you put up there or don't put it up at all. In other words, don't be a stupid fucking idiot.

It is what you make of it. Your TL is unique to you and is something you control. If you don't like it anymore, change it up! Too much negativity? Either hange your outlook or change your TL. Or both. Take a break. Don't blame the medium for losing it's sparkle. After all, you're the one who controls it.

At the end of the day, this is no substitute for a real-life and connections with real people. It is however, a really nice complement to it and a great way to kill time while on public transport. It's not dangerous, it's not scary and it won't wreck your life unless you let it or use it that way. It's just social media. Just have some damn fun with it!

Are you someone who holds a camera up in a concert and then wonder why everyone hates you? I'll tell you why.

It's because you're an asshole. No no no no, don't shake your head and tell me some excuse about how you give money to charity and blah blah blah. You are.

You blocked the view of someone who paid a lot of money to get there and experience the awesome experience of live music by a musician that they love by sticking your piece of shit camera in their fucking view and then you were incredibly perplexed, annoyed or you laughed at them for getting rightfully fucking angry because you are an asshole who ruined their experience by failing to realise that the other people there were just as deserving of an amazing time as you. In fact, you probably justified your actions by some pathetic and weak ass excuse. 

Don't justify it. You're an asshole. Now get the hell out of my way!

As the generational divide deepens, it makes sense for the older generations to stake their claim now, while they have the power of the state on their side. Aside from handing out more than 10,000 Asbos (Antisocial Behaviour Orders, a cross between a human parking ticket and the sort of condemned notice you sometimes see on the walls of derelict buildings), the petty misanthropy that bans hoodie-wearing teenagers from shopping malls, forces parenting classes on failing single mums, and allows 79 percent of police forces to impose curfews on children, comes easily to a nation that thought up the idea that its young should be seen and not heard. But never before have we put them under this degree of surveillance while simultaneously turning a blind eye to our adult responsibilities. Satellites track their phones, marketeers groom them on cyberspace, police add the DNA from 600 innocent children a week to a 50,000-sample database, while libraries fingerprint them to borrow books – all linked by rafts of new childhood databases joining the dots. In an age of hyper-individualism we are recoiling from the very children we have created. Monitoring is not enough, we must be protected from them.

unscrupulousmaneater:

Is it bad that I want everything she’s wearing?

Wait, you've never spent the night dancing around to Moonlight Lady by Julio Iglesias with a man who makes your heart sing in an apartment that's only decorated with fairy lights while drinking Sangria and singing and crying from laughter and sheer happiness?? YOU HAVEN'T LIVED!