It's true. Steve Irwin, the Crocodile Hunter, died from a unfortunate run-in with a stingray. Sad to see him go this way. According to reports, it's rare that one dies from this type of sting. The ray's stinger tail punctured him in the very spot that it could be fatal. His heart.
I'll admit, when I first heard this late in the wee hour mornings, I thought it was...well....a crock. Soon finding out that it was true.
He was always fascinating to me and I never hated on him like some people did during the whole baby debacle. Remember that? He was holding his infant son in one hand and feeding a crocodile with the other? My mom used to feed me with one hand while holding a baby crocodile, so, I could relate.
Hearing about this reminded me of a few Australian people and things in my life. The neighborhood dude I see at the local bars. He's Australian. I call him the Croc Hunter of Hell's Kitchen. He always gets excited, like Steve, when he talks. About ANYTHING. He could be saying, "I woke up this morning and had some brilliant cereal! I LOVED IT! Then I BRUSHED MY TEETH!" Seriously, take it easy, mate! Then, there's the Qantas airline stewardess that went "down under" on me after meeting at a bar. Survivor:Australia and the hotness that was The View's Elizabeth on there. Crocodile Dundee, Nicole Kidman, Koala bears, wallaby's, dingos, Kangaroo Jack, Aborigines, Surfing, Mel Gibson, the Tasmanian Devil, shrimp on the barbie, Foster's, etc.
Here's to many a winning wrestling match in crocodile heaven. I'll dine on skate fish and tip a fine Barossa Valley Shiraz in your memory. All while whispering a quiet and reverent Steve Irwin adage. "crikey."
Holy crap. This was the first I'd heard about it.
Posted by: Priscilla | September 04, 2006 at 11:59 AM