Sexy reader Robert sent us this earlier today: it’s a NRL (Australia) rugby ref getting trampled by one player on Rabbitohs, and then getting knocked unconscious by the knee of the Broncos’ Tonie Carroll. And this is what the UFL needs to do: get rid of linemen and just have 11 guys on each team run around for 60 minutes. And put the refs in pink and award points for knockdowns and knockouts. Ed Hochuli already loves this idea; he’s doing push-ups on the desk at his law firm just thinking about it.

And look how friggin’ clear that video is. Fast forward to the 1:05 mark to see his eyes rolling back into his head. Remarkable.

Brad Fittler, head coach of Australia’s Sydney Roosters rugby team, fined himself for drunken behavior on a team road trip last weekend. From the Herald Sun, via Sports Rubbish:

Police were called to Townsville’s Holiday Inn early on Friday morning after two female guests reported a “creepy man” with a “hairy chest” – wearing only shorts – was trying to get into their room.

Police arrived at 3.15am to find a “very drunk” Fittler still outside the room. Fittler got out of the elevator at the wrong floor and shook the room’s door, mistaking it for his.

No charges will be filed, but the timing blows because Fittler’s team is at the bottom of the table and appears to be a dead coach walking. At least last weekend, he was a dead coach drinking. Which is usually a precursor to dead coach running off to Argentina with his mistress. Yeah, nobody was gonna figure that one out…

When you live in New Zealand, boring ol’ rugby with clothes won’t do, apparently. So once a year (I suppose whenever it gets warm enough), two teams of seven players each get together in the quaint little town of Dunedin and play rugby butt-ass nekkid.

The nude rugby international, which started as a celebration of New Zealand’s national nude day, was held yesterday as a warm-up – although temperatures were reportedly cold enough to prove embarrassing – to the forthcoming match between the All Blacks and France.

Needless to say, there were plenty of tackles flying about with only one interruption … when a fully-clothed streaker ran on to the pitch.

I guess the short shorts weren’t short enough after all. Seriously, it must be great to live in a country where people can just run around naked and then get all grumpy when someone with clothes on interrupts the proceedings. And I still shower with swim trunks on. But that’s only because I like to keep my soap in the pockets.

|UK’s Guardian, via Flubby|

Busted Coverage has been following this story that seems to be a big deal in Australia, and that’s usually how it goes. People always get pissed when everyone but them is having sex. I know I do. Anyway, some ex-po-ZAY was on Aussie TV discussing all the rampant, lascivious, delicious humping happening in Aussie rugby. Including a description of this gang bang in 2002. From the Sydney Morning Herald:

A dozen rugby league players stand around a naked 19-year-old woman, half of them having sex with her, others masturbating as they watch on.

I’m only hoping all of this took place on a large tarp. Ever tried scrubbing semen out of carpet? Uhh, me neither.

People who think this is an issue of consent are missing the point entirely. Do men who gang-bang a 19-year-old woman deserve our respect? Our adulation on a football field? The right to earn a fabulous living as an elite sportsman?

It’s just not right – and if we’d not want it done to our daughters, to our sisters, to ourselves, we shouldn’t tolerate it happening to a stranger.

Seriously, every time I hear the “What if it was your sister?” argument, I just want to grab that person by the throat and scream “MY SISTER’S NOT A POLE-SMOKING WHORE.” Look, 15 dudes on one girl isn’t really my scene. But this girl waited seven years and then thought, “Yeah, maybe that wasn’t such a good idea, letting two dozen guys drop a load on me like that” I’m fresh out of sympathy for these girls that cozy up to athletes and then cry about being mistreated. It’s like I always say: “You married him, Mom.” And to think we almost had a woman president.

Pictured above is one of the many attractive women who tried out for the cheerleading squad of the Penrith Panthers, a team in Australia’s National Rugby League.  I’m leading with her because this story is really about another person who made the team, 19-year-old Aaron Neich, who became the first male cheerleader in the NRL (fabulous video after the jump).  He’s here, he’s queer, deal with it.

He is expecting some heckling but is prepared. “I have had it all my life, I have grown up with getting names called, if people call me a gay poof, I am and I don’t care,” he said. “If you have got it, flaunt it.” [...]

Aaron said they will “butch” him up in black cargo pants and a pink tank top without the pom poms his female colleagues will use.

Good for Aaron.  Here’s hoping that drunken rugby fans don’t resort to slurs.  And here’s hoping he still wears the fishnet hose under his cargo pants.  Cheerleaders appreciate acts of solidarity like that.

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Two weeks ago, Scotland took on Fiji in a Rugby League World Cup match in which the Scots pulled out a surprising 18-16 victory, their first ever in that tournament. But that’s not why you’re here.

You’re here to watch large men with no necks throw haymakers at each other’s heads.  In pussy-ass America, these guys would get suspended for half a season or more.  In hockey, they’d spin around in circles while holding onto each other before going to the penalty box for five minutes.  In rugby, the referees talk it over, then politely — but firmly! –  tell the team captains to get control of their teams.  Seriously, no more warnings, they mean it.  No more punching.  Well, unless it’s really important.

[Busted Coverage]