The home of alternative sports commentary

At TippyTappySports, our aim is to bring you the best alternative sports commentary from around the world.

Whether it's football, cricket, rugby league or basque pelota, we'll bring you the kind of entertaining insight that only former captains of the under 9A's have access to.

So keep an eye on our broadcast schedule for upcoming major sporting events.

Follow us on all our social media for updates, snippets, previews and more. Because at TippyTappySports we’re dedicated to the use of sporting cliches – one match at a time.

So mute the tv. And turn up the tippy tappy!

Filtering by Tag: Steve Waugh

2017 Update: India, Cricket & Vindalosers

It's been a while since our last update so you might think there hasn’t been much happening in the world of TippyTappy Sports. Nothing could be further from the truth. The last few months has seen an intensity of activity to rival the day before an essay is due. Flat panic, abuse of caffeine, self loathing and unfulfilled resolutions to never ever do that again. Ok that last bit might be more indicative of our time at university but hey, it’s part of the rich tapestry that is “making content”. Especially when you do so in India. And call the finished product: Vindalosers.

To give the briefest of recaps, we were lucky enough to have radio juggernaut Southern Cross Austereo come on board and partner with us to make a film in India about cricket; specifically, why it’s so hard for Australia to win at test level in India. We set out with the ambitious task of writing the blueprint for what the Australian test team – and indeed any test team – has to do in order to succeed in India. It’s good to think big. After all, there are 1 billion people in India.

Telling people prior to departure that we were off to India to make a film about cricket was universally met with the same question: have you been to India before? The pause between answer and response was no longer than a nanosecond but looking into people’s eyes during that moment was to relive a Homeric epic in all its glory. The fear, the expectation, the sheer wild eyed intensity as people waited to hear our response “no, never” was immediately replaced with a form of mystical almost transcendental pity – “You don’t know what you’re in for”. Indeed we didn’t.

The only thing more humiliating than being bowled about by a 12 year old is being bowled out by hundreds of 12 year olds. Indeed, we could still be in India and there would be kids lining up to have a crack at the Australian cricketing anti talent who put the pads on – plus an inner thigh pad for good measure – in a pathetic attempt to channel his inner backyard Steve Waugh from the early 90s. That’s not a clumsy dig about India’s huge population – we all know this anyway – but the sheer joy that cricket brings to the people of India is something to be witnessed first hand. Finding a cricket coach in Mumbai whose first lesson consisted of us eating ice cream is a long way from Mr Walker standing behind me with a stump aimed directly at my bum to stop me from backing away. 

Travelling from Mumbai to Delhi to Vizag to Banglaore to Mysore, it was impossible not to be swept up in the pure enthusiasm for cricket – not cricket as highly paid professional sport but cricket as pure play; play that knew no age or gender but did know Facebook friend requests. In fact, we were in more selfies in our time in India than in our entire life. If cricket celebrity be the food of India, play on. Pass me the dhal though. What. Anyways, cricket in India is exhausting, intoxicating and no argument about a leg before wicket dismissal in street cricket – or gully cricket as it’s known – can’t be resolved over cardamom tea prepared by someone’s mother.

Clearly, we were on to something. Australia won the first test. They hadn’t come close to winning a test in India since 2004. Unsurprisingly, we took the credit for that victory. Our invoice to Cricket Australia remains unpaid. No wonder the organization is in turmoil if it can’t pay its critical suppliers let alone its players.

India is as crazy as we had been led to believe. And the Indians are as obsessed with cricket as people say. But don’t take our (written) word for it. Watch the film. Go on.

The preview can be seen here: 


The full 30 minute extravaganza here:


For all the bonus clips, check out our Insta or Facebook. Of course if that’s too hard, just watch them all on the site here under “Video”.

The Renaissance of Alternative Sports Commentary

just as 15th Century Florence was a hotbed of artistic, intellectual and philosophical intrigue, the same can be said of the tippytappysports commentary team. We are Leonardo, Raphael, Donatello and Michelangelo all rolled into one resplendent renaissance self. Splinter is our patron and mildly aristocratic vermin overlord. We can see the Uffizi from our sewer. We generally mix metaphors and take things a simile too far. Let the Renaissance (re)commence.

You might be wondering what we’ve been doing during our brief hiatus. Well, so have we. The time wasn’t spent in a daze. In fact, we needed that time out to let our minds rest and recuperate. After all, sports commentary is hard, alternative sports commentary even harder. Our renaissance is more of a rupture. A redoubling if you will of all that is good, bad and indifferent about sports and sports commentary.

Since we’ve been off air, we’ve seen the passing of Muhammed Ali. He was the greatest. At what precisely remains a mystery. There is nevertheless so much to look forward to. We have the world championship Zika virus about to take place in Rio de Janiero. Our Olympic coverage will consist of duels between Bob Costas and some other dude. We may look to re-enact the Juan Antonio Samaranch highlights reel consisting of receiving brown paper bags and downing bottles of Chateau Petrus before elevenses.

Apart from the Olympics, at some point over the next little while, we will seesomebody write an article about whether it’s time for Arsene Wenger to retire, whether Leo Messi is better than Cristiano Ronaldo, does Australia have any idea how to play the Duke ball and is Novak Djokovic’s true destiny to play Travis Bickle in the inevitable remake of Taxi Driver. Tennis Player directed by Michael Bay and produced by Jerry Bruckheimer. Of course, some professional sportsman will disgrace himself and then apologise for any offence “he may have committed”.  

In that respect, plus ca change, plus c’est la meme chose. We don’t even know what that means. But just as Steve Waugh’s insistent mantra was “no regrets”, we would say in response, “non, je ne regrette rien” which just sounds like French for “no worries m8 sik kunt”.

So apologies to you all for leaving you just like that. But let’s not look backward. Let’s look to the Renaissance. Let’s don some tights and a jerkin and mince around like we’re extras in Game of Thrones. Sure, that might be taking things a bit too far but when has excessive restraint ever been in the tippytappysports playbook?

Keep an eye on our broadcast schedule for upcoming live calls, appearances – likely to be every day somewhere – and general silliness. Embrace the Renaissance and live stream hilarity will ensue. Guaranteed.

So mute the tv and turn up the tippytappy. Your ears will thank you.