With the current shitstorm about the Melbourne Storm breaching their salary cap and losing all their trophys filling our airwaves it's worth noting that really, no else in the country (let alone the world) probably cares. Ever try explaning the state-by-state break down of our football codes to an American? Their eyes glaze over like a Dunkin donut and they the subject soon changes to Superbowl half time shows. The whole idea of a salary cap in the land of the free is a concept about as foreign as universal healthcare or nationalised public broadcasting.

In Melbourne too, no one probably cares. I bet it's on page 14 in The Age, next to the ad for a new slow-core, shoe-gazing post-folk gig at the community cafe latte gallery (with potato cakes) - accessible by privatised public transport.

Rugby League is a predominantly New South Welshmans infatuation (the league itself was called the NSWRL up until as recently as 1994), and the rest of the country is pretty much Aussie Rules dominated (except with the World Cup is on, and then we all love football football - or soccer as Americans call it).

And with a second Sydney AFL team on the way, the Melbourne Storm fiasco could possibly send a lot of League converts back to other codes in all the southern states. So get ready for a return of the North Sydney Bears! And heaven forbid The Footy Show and Matty Johns might have to actually say something for a change!

Keep loving your Rugby League Sydneysiders, you're the only ones.

The best thing about Rugby League remains Tina Turner's brief infatuation with the sport in 1989/1990 as demonstrated in this spontaneous show of appreciation:

And Rugby League player aren't known for their political stances either, as Mal Meninga shows us:

It's 2010 and I still can't believe how many people I talk to who have never heard of The Mac, let alone set foot in it.

Located at the back of Central Station and with upstairs accommodation, you get a few country bumpkins setting foot inside Sydney's home of funk - which is exactly what this is. Free funk and blues/roots music, most nights of the week barring the anti-social ones. In a country where it seems there's more and more cover charges for worse and worse cover bands (oh they played Mr Jones and Two Princes - what a surprise) - The Mac is a haven for original music from talented musicians. Some of my favourite acts like Ray Mann, The Bakery and Extended Family are usually playing here, and the only cover band I can stomach Johnny G & The E Types which plays Stax era Booker T covers with such gusto that Otis Redding would sit in if he was in town. And that's the other secret, thanks to some well connected bookers, The Mac often offers free secret shows from visiting internationals, like Jon Cleary or one of Harry Connick Jr's horn players.

The newly renovated and opened venue upstairs, The Raval probably deserves it's own entry - but it's such a secret, great spot I'm afraid to talk about it too much for fear more people will discover it. It's like the parlour room of an old rich French uncle from the 19th century - all antique couches, chandeliers and stained glass. This is the kind of venue The Basement wishes it was - all class. It's such a good venue you don't care who's playing - you just want to take interstate guests their to drink absinthe and impress them and pretend it's your own private club. Make any excuse to go check it out.

Oh and if you need another excuse to visit - they brew their own beer!