The former Sydney Swans and then Brisbane Bears footballer kicked 388 goals in 124 games (from Wiki). He also was a bit of a high flyer, winning Mark of the Year in 1987.
However, he also proved to be what Paul Keating would describe as a "low-altitude flyer". The Wikipedia page has all the deets, but he can be essentially summarised as Australia's answer to Charlie Sheen, David Hasselhoff and Paris Hilton combined. No wonder we complain about creeping Americanism.
Apparently, he produced an adult movie back in 2007. That's all well and good (although this correspondent was not brave enough to venture past the relevant home page) and, as he says, "if you've got it, flaunt it".
Quite.
But if you peruse the latter link, you will find the man of the moment (indirectly) describing the, ahem, piece as being "tastefully compiled".
Come on. The only porn that is remotely classy (I'm not an addict, I swear) is the "high class British porn" seen on Family Guy.
Exhibit B in this cataloguing of evidence against the man on the charge of delusions of grandeur (I'll explain myself in a minute) is his very brief appearance on Celebrity Apprentice Australia.
He was the first to be sacked in the entire series, after being accused of laziness during a challenge at a car wash.
What was interesting was his response, seen on a blog run by the Herald Sun the day after the elimination.
He seemed to genuinely believe that he was above contempt. When a couple of haters had a go, he replied by pointing that, compared to them, the last time he did real work was 20 years ago.
The penultimate piece of evidence is presented thus: Capper did some ads (if you've seen one you've seen them all) a couple of years ago for a hotel booking chain. It is interesting because the very Australian trait (perhaps all-too-human (gratuitous Nietszche reference (I actually bought a collection of his works last week. I can't wait to get stuck into it.) there) trait) of having a laugh at yourself directly comes up against the what is called in the land of Oz "tall-poppy syndrome" viz., jealousy. The man on the street, therefore (such a stultifying expression) must decide whether his larrikinism outweighs his delusions of grandeur. Ah, yes.
Delusions of grandeur. A superlative phrase. Used to identify anybody who holds themselves in such high esteem as to consider themselves to be, in a word, great. It's odd to mention because we are expected to hold ourselves in a fairly healthy ego. Anyone above or below this vague marker is out of touch, weird. I guess it comes from the fact we pride ourselves being a meritocratic and egalitarian nation. We must follow some ancient guide to living - which, astonishingly, has never actually been made word - otherwise we are cocky, self-absorbed. Colour me self-indulgent (another great term), but surely by looking after the self first and foremost can we get anywhere in life. Instead, according to this great Australian dream, we have to toe the line (which actually means rebelling) when it comes to making a living, just like our fathers and our grandfathers and our great grandfathers, and yea, verily, unto the fourth generation.
Good on Warwick Capper. Good on him for having some fun in his life, when most people at his age end up like one of John Brack's characters in his immortal painting, "Collins St 5pm"
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Those who have paid attention in this article (and those who are still with me) will recognise that I finished by presenting only a penultimate piece of evidence against (really; for) Warwick Capper.
I want to bring to your attention a song he has his name next to. It's called "I Only Take What's Mine". If it sounds bad just by the title, you're on the right track. It's bad, it's corny, it's clichéd. This song, however, is the basis behind this whole post.
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A friend of mine has on his laptop a program called UltraStar, which is basically SingStar for people tired of life, which itself is a game for people tired of life. I suggested that we get sloshed and then sing this, which is an indication of how tired I may or may not be of life. He said that that was fine, but he wanted me to provide the lyrics, because the modus vivendi of UltraStar is that you can choose your own songs to sing, but you also must provide the lyrics, and then sync the two.
It only took me a couple of playings to finish it off, and so, what I believe to be the only known copy of the lyrics of Warwick Capper's song "I Only Take What's Mine" on the Internet (all rights reserved, Warwick Capper's work not mine yada yada). I may or may not be 100% right, but I sure am crazy (gratuitous Billy Joel reference there).
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*s denote backing chorus
Big heels, fast wheels, I feel them comin’
Side on, climb on, I’m off and runnin’
I know where I am, and I know just where I’m goin’
So don’t push too hard
I got crime
And I’m closer every day, to take what I’ve got comin’
I’m goin’ to fly
I only take what’s mine
Take ‘em high*
Take ‘em low*
Oh oh, I do it all the time
Take ‘em fast*
Take ‘em slow*
I only take what’s mine
Spotlights, stop lights, I take or leave ‘em
White flies, blue eyes, I don’t believe ‘em
I know what to do
And I know I’m goin’ to make it
And it’s all so easy
It ain’t fair
And I’m warnin’ you
If it’s there, I’m goin’ to take it
I’m goin’ to fly
I only take what’s mine
And I’m closer every day, to take what I’ve got comin’
I’m goin’ to fly
I only take what’s mine
Take ‘em high*
Take ‘em low*
Oh oh, I do it all the time
Take ‘em fast*
Take ‘em slow*
I only take what’s mine
Take ‘em high*
Take ‘em low*
Oh oh, I do it all the time
Take ‘em fast*
Take ‘em slow*
I only take what’s mine
Take ‘em high*
Take ‘em low*
Oh oh, I do it all the time
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