Riding the Wave

I bought a boogie board last week.

It's one of those spontaneous things you do when you're holidaying with your kids. It's slick. My technique isn't. But, as the second wave of the day - a monster three footer - surged toward me, I couldn't resist jumping on. The thrill was intoxicating. Five seconds later, unnaturally disorientated, I emerged from the whitewash with a busted rib.

I might sell a boogie board this week.

According to The Physics Hypertextbook, "A wave is a disturbance that propagates through a medium." Tasmanian sport is currently riding a wave that's been surging for two years, and we're all on it. Boogie board sales must be through the roof.

This week, the Hobart Hurricanes ripped through the Sydney Thunder in cricket's Big Bash Final. The game was played on our home deck and the title was won by the expertise of local lads Nathan Ellis, Riley Meredith and Mitch Owen. Owen's eleven sixes morphed the Ninja Stadium crowd into one ferocious, united force. No board required here - that bloke can walk on water.

We're a parochial bunch, you see. Under normal circumstances I would've been in the David Boon stand, perhaps the Ponting. As it was, I sat in Tassie's secret paradise - Boat Harbour - with an ice cold can of Willie Smith's Cider in my hand. And another strapped around my ribs.

Tasmanian summers have long been the domain of festivals, fishing trips, cruise ships and friendly arguments between the sun and the clouds. The Hurricanes' triumph follows our beloved JackJumpers claiming last season's NBL championship, and we're now accustomed to annual summer sporting celebrations.

Beware the sleeping (If only I could, bloody ribs!) giant. The Jackies and the Canes are firmly entrenched as the state's darlings right now. The AFL is a few short years away from releasing the leg rope. The locals are stoked. They're amped. I'm not sure Tassie Devils can surf but they can rip anything apart, and when they arrive in footy form, we might just see this wave at its crest.