Hi rugby lovers, I’m Brand O’Connor. I am one of the most exciting rugby players in the world.
Some might know me as James, but that does lend itself to ‘Jim’ or ‘Jimmy’ and frankly I have moved on: ‘Brand’ it is and it’s here to stay.
Call me Brandy for short – which I am actually, short that is. And baby-faced; really I look about 15. And of course, they say I look like Justin Bieber. Let’s get something straight: Justin Bieber looks just like me – except, and I say this modestly, I’m prettier. I wear short rugby socks because they show my muscly little calves better and I put my mouthguard in – in! – when I’m kicking goals, not out like every other kicker in the world. It sets my brand apart, you see.
The ARU threw me out of last week’s Tri Nations decider for not turning up for the Rugby World Cup squad annoucement. Okay, okay, so I slept in after a night out on the turps with Kurtley Beale; it’s not a hanging offence, is it? Just slept in and really, I was seriously still too trashed to go anyway; what was the point?
I thought the ARU and Eddie Deans, sorry Robbie Deans, might be a little filthy but seriously, to throw me out of that game and fine me $10,000 suspended until the end of next year . . . were they for real? Turns out they were – can you believe it?
Of course I had to make a public statement apologising for it and say that I was ‘gutted’ but really, I didn’t give a stuff; it was their problem, not mine, especially when without me playing they were on a hiding to nothing against the All Blacks.
Yes, I know the Wallabies won but the point is they would have won by more had I been playing, heaps more. Anyway, after the game I managed to get my pic taken with two of my player mates holding the Tri Nations trophy to make it look like I was sort of part of it.
It’s good for the brand, you know, winning: Brand O’Connor is a winner, always associated with W-I-N-N-I-N-G.
I’ve heard on the grapevine that a number of old Wallabies are filthy on me after my no-show. They’ve been calling the ARU and Robbie Deans demanding that they dump me out of the World Cup Squad altogether.
These old geezers are calling me James NO’Connor – fully cut sick, dudes! – and they are also blaming my father, Warren, for driving this Brand O’Connor thing too far, too fast because I’m just a naïve kid who doesn’t know any better. They’ve started comparing me to Luke McAllister, who’s managed by his father, Charlie. When Luke didn’t get picked for the All Blacks RWC squad this year he and Charlie got the shits BIG, packed up shop and hopped off to play rugby in the UK.
I might do the same; that’d teach them. Yeah, maybe I will! I think my hairstyle would go down a lot better in London, anyway. Better salons there, too.
By Leonard Lee