Stand up and be...ridiculed (Column No.1472)

At last holidays are over and we can all get back to work, except those who can’t get tested or are sick or dead already, or work in hospitality or tourism or….okay, I get your point.

Let’s just say January is over, the tennis is over…what? It’s not?

Well, it will be by the time you read this and hopefully Djokovic is lamenting his administrative and human errors and poor judgment and is languishing in second place in the slam-dunkin’ world of people who count such things.

Anyway, let’s now focus on the important things in the world, such as stand-up paddle-boarding.

Why does this sport exist?

No-one doing it looks like they can, and more importantly, neither do they appear to be enjoying it.

Okay, maybe it’s boot camp for water babies. People who have developed the ridiculous notion that things must hurt before they are fun, which is why stand-up paddle-boarding is a recent phenomenon.

Mostly in human history, life itself hurt enough that people pursued other things in their minimal leisure time. Stand-up paddle-boarding was not known in Europe during the wars, or indeed anywhere in Africa today.

It is the slowest sport known to humankind. Unlike kayaking, for instance, you can’t use it to get anywhere. You wouldn’t make it. People struggle to get back to where they began.

Stand-up paddle boarding is expensive and not just because the boards themselves cost a bomb, bought only by bored, rich people who have exhausted all other avenues of exercise and leisure activity.

Then, unless you live on a beach or river you must find water, but public transport is out - they won’t fit on buses or trains - so you need a vehicle with roof racks before you even think about standing up.

Okay, you could try a pool, but fall off and you crack your scone, and anyway it would take but one stroke to go end to end, and about 20 minutes.

Stand-up paddle-boarding is so dull no-one has ever bothered to abbreviate its stupidly long title. We don’t call footy “kicking an inflated bladder in a pigskin between wooden posts” do we?

Stand-up paddle boarding is the sporting equivalent of podcasts, but alas we have run out of space to explain further, so stay tuned for next week’s enthralling episode, guaranteed to be more fun than stand-up paddle-boarding.

Meanwhile save your money and grab a glass of one of these wines and a podcast on stand-up paddle-boarding.

Wicks Estate Adelaide Hills Pamela Vintage 2015, $30. No, Pamela is not a new grape variety, it’s one of the Adelaide Hills most alluring and interesting sparkling wines with one of the weirdest names (like stand-up paddle boarding), unless your name is Pamela, in which case, hopefully, you are used to it. 9.6/10.

Wicks Estate Adelaide Hills Rosé Vintage 2021, $20 Adelaide Hills is the rosé capital of Australia, along with Tasmania, Yarra and Hunter Valleys, Mornington, Barossa, McLaren Vale, WA, Granite Belt…among others. But that doesn't mean some don’t stand out. Lovely summer fare. 9.2/10.

Clandestine (Blewitt Springs) Hearts and Minds Grenache, 2021, $60. Stand-up paddle boarders use only one half of their heart or mind potential and it's pretty clear which. Serious grenache for the other half who know what to do with their playtime. 9.5/10.

Clandestine Adelaide Hills Single Vineyard Pinot Noir 2021, $30. You could be clandestine about your SPB but you'd be better off buying a bottle of this bright young pinot and get a whole afternoon of pleasure rather than pain. 9.3/10.  

Paxton McLaren Vale Jones Block Shiraz 2019, $45. A "charismatic local pharmacist back in the day", was Jones. Must have been quite the character to continue his legacy thus. A new alchemy, turning Jonesy’s dirt into gold, or delicious shiraz. 9.5/10.  

Paxton McLaren Vale Quandong Farm (Single Vineyard) Shiraz 2019, $30. They'll never be as rare as a quandong tree, those stand-up boards, but after next hard-rubbish day they'll come close. Again you're better off with this, solid ground in a sea of pinot in our household lately. 9.4/10.

Max Crus is a Clarence Valley-based wine writer and Grape Expectations is now in its 26th year of publication. Find out more about Max or sign up for his weekly reviews and musings by visiting maxcrus.com.au

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