Dominic George: Dairy in danger of double whammy

There will be an expected cut in dairy prices.

In his outstanding book, Fighting Talk; Boxing and the Modern Lexicon, author Sir Bob Jones writes the term "double whammy" emanates from rural USA and has its origins in black magic.

In the early 20th century, the word whammy meant a curse or a hex and was first recorded as such in 1915.

It wasn't until the 1940s that the addendum "double" was attached, when, according to Jones, boxing manager Wirt Ross told a newspaper reporter the only way heavyweight champ Joe Louis could be beaten was if he was hit with a double whammy.

Nowadays we use the term to convey a situation in which two unfortunate events beset a group or an individual simultaneously.

There were predictions on Monday of a "double whammy" for dairy farmers this week, with expectations Tuesday night's Global Dairy Trade Event would provide another cut in global prices, while Fonterra will give an updated milk price forecast tomorrow for the 2015-16 season.

One half of the prophecy has already been fulfilled with dairy prices slumping for the 10th time in a row yesterday, down 9.3 per cent, while Fonterra is expected to severely cut its current $5.25 milk solids forecast tomorrow afternoon. It's led to tomorrow already being dubbed "Black Friday" by media pundits, foreshadowing the dark news that lies ahead.

As a learned man (ha), I'm not prone to believing in such things as spells and curses, but you have to wonder if the dairy industry has had some sneaky voodoo cast upon it in recent times. It's interesting to note the German settlers in Pennsylvania (known as the Pennsylvania Dutch) were well known for their fondness of hexes; indeed, stable witches used to perform a common hex that was said to cause milk cows to go dry (gulp).

It hasn't escaped my attention that the Farming Show's new online editor has also dabbled in the world of curses this week.

Indeed, Katherine the Great's successor Hanoi Jane has put a curse on the office cricket bat. Such brazen antics would once have seen her employment at the Farming Show rendered particularly brief, however, we're desperate and she's cheap.

In an attempt to provide some sort of pseudo gender balance to the Farming Show, we've allowed her some column inches on farmingshow.com to talk about lipstick and other such feminine frivolities, a chance she's squandered by wildly exceeding her brief. The poor girl has attempted to understand the relationship between men and cricket bats and has failed miserably.

The willow in question is a dearly loved abomination -- an original 1980s Gray-Nicolls Scoop that has mysteriously found its home in the office Jane and I share, although no one can trace its origin or remember how it came to be housed there. It has no grip, weighs a tonne and is in a general state of disrepair. However, these flaws are what make it so special, as it has the ability to transport men from the reality of their daily working lives back to a more tranquil and idyllic time where playing cricket with the likes of a Gray-Nicolls Scoop was the most important thing you'd do on any given day. Simply picking the thing up and engaging in some shadow-batting is a form of stress relief quite unlike any other ... well, you know what I mean.

It screams 80s cricket as much as Hadlee and Chatfield, as much as towel hats and zinc, as much as Excalibur and Duncan Fearnley Magnums ... but she's gone and cursed it. Apparently she's always tripping over it and it seems to follow her around the office.

Well, here's some friendly advice for Jane and others who feel cricket bats get in their way -- watch where you're going. Observe most men who come across a cricket bat; the lure is too great to resist. They'll be picking it up without thinking and playing shots more technically correct than they ever did in real game. But, for the briefest of moments, they'll be happy and relaxed -- now there's a double whammy we should all embrace.