Crikey has managed to get an interview with the pantsman himself and examine the rumor that Shane Warne is actually the pants man.

Today we can reveal the identity of the infamous Aussie internet correspondent, The Pantsman, whose exploits in cutting a swathe through the world’s wanton womenfolk are the subject of the cult underground website –

He is none other than the prominent TV cameraman, reporter, newspaper columnist, smoker and sometime cricketer, Shane Warne.

A spokesman for Warne today released the following brief statement to

“In light of Shane’s recent triumph in the UK, he has decided to spill his substantial guts about his alter ego, in much the same way the South African boys are ‘fessing up to the cricket corruption commission. I know this will probably come as a shock to Simone and the kids but, hey, she married an Aussie sportsman! She knew exactly what she was getting herself into.”

It is believed, which carries detailed accounts of his multiple & bizarre conquests, will be redesigned to reflect Warne’s decision to out himself as Australia’s finest virile export since Sir Les Patterson hit the Court of St James as our Cultural Ambassador in Pommie Land.

The spokesman said: “Shane is looking to leverage some new sponsorship opportunities that more accurately reflect his maturing role as an Aussie icon and role model. We are currently negotiating with the management at, and any other sleazy internet sites who care to throw a lazy 200 grand our way. He’s even willing to consider giving up smoking again. Or starting. We reckon if the tobacco sponsorship is OK for the Formula One boys, its good enough for us. He’d even take up menthols for the right price.”

“Shane is anxious to assure all his fans (ed: shurely some mistake?) that the Devil did not make him do it,” said his spokesman.

A latter-day Bazza McKenzie, Pantsman started sending back to Oz a record of his carnal exploits in the form of a lively and entertaining regular diary. Diary updates now reach an estimated 50,000 salivating punters throughout our great nation and beyond.

Pantsman’s experiences make the exploits of legendary Aussie cricket party-boys Boonie, “Bacchus” Marsh, “Punter” Ponting and Warwick Todd look particularly tame.

Today, Crikey is proud to bring you a World Exclusive interview with The Pantsman himself, recorded last week, before he made his historic decision to peel off the balaclava and the extra-thick Rough Rider and expose himself to the world. Enjoy.

Exclisive Interview With The Pantsman

CRIKEY: What can you tell us about yourself? Age, occupation, where from etc?

PANTSMAN: I’m just an ordinary guy, born in Melbourne and raised in Adelaide. I saw an opportunity to take pub cricket to the next level and the rest is history.

Q: How and when did it all start and how many were on that first mailing list?

A: It all started on my first journey to the home of footy, Riga, Latvia, in July of 1999. I had huge expectations of the place and I was not disappointed. I started sending home some e-mails to about 25 guys, with a very brief description of girls, clubs etc which I had experienced that week. The turning point was the “Can Opener” episode. This particular incident turned heads, and a mini cult-following with my mates ensued. By November I was receiving requests from friends of friends for the diaries, and the reader base steadily increased to 45.

Somehow the diaries were leaked in the New Year, and it snowballed from there. Before I knew it, friends were e-mailing me with stuff like “Hey Pants, I just received 5 of your episodes from a mate in New York!” One keen punter even took the time to paste five of the episodes into a Word document, complete with a glossary of sporting terms used in the stories!

Q: How many countries have you been to and how many of them have you had sex in?

A: That’s a tough one. Most of my hundreds have been scored in England, as this is where I have spent 95% of my time. I’ve covered a variety of nationalities on tour, but often not in their home country (I like them to be under the added pressure of an away game). Let’s just say I have had a vested interest in about 15 different nationalities, and I’ll leave it at that.

Q: How many women have you slept with over the years? Rate your top three countries for quality of women and the worst three.

A: Somewhere between 10 and 100. And I don’t sleep with women, I make love to them…


My favourite country remains a secret, and I don’t want to spoil the surface of the MCG by having too many teams play there. Like Kev Sheedy, I get a bit upset by this. If you want to make your own mind up however, come and view the panoramic pantspicture profiles on my web-site in the coming weeks. Every city might not have an MCG, but there is cricket played in this town, I promise you. The difference is whether you are facing up to golf balls or watermelons.

For bedtime antics though, I wouldn’t go past a Swede. They are wild girls who are willing to have a crack at almost anything, regardless of age. In fact it would be fair to say the vast majority are nymphos. The few I have come across had me sweating profusely, running between the wickets all night: they’re like those pink bunnies in the Energizer ads.


No offence to the Irish out there, they are the friendliest people I have come encountered in my travels. But the state of their female population is woeful, particularly country Ireland. Limerick was home to more ginge minge than an episode of The Partridge Family, while Dublin hosted a frightening number of fe-mullets. Accordingly, I still don’t believe that The Corrs are Irish.

Q: Has your success rate increased since you started publishing the diaries?

A: Yes, but only in the context that as time as passed, I have probably become more brazen in my approach to women and my antics in general. Usually I will try to conjure up some devious manoeuvre in my mind that I think would make a great diary, and I chase runs accordingly. And often I’ll think up some crazy stuff in bed, or at a club, and then think to myself “yep, the boys will LOVE this one!”. For example, slapping a girl on the arse while doing her doggy and muttering “welcome to the tour”.

As far as the ladies themselves; the phenomenon is only just starting to take off over here in London (although it is as we speak), and so I would have more luck continuing to tell girls I am a porn star or stunt man than saying “hey baby, I’m the Pantsman”. To be perfectly honest though, I’ve never been one of those guys anyway. There’s nothing worse than say a footballer (especially if he’s a hack) trying to use his status to pull a root. It’s all about the chase. It’s me versus the bowlers, and I enjoy the conquest. There is nothing more enjoyable than succeeding at chasing a century.

Q: How many women have you bonked know you are the pantsman and do many specifically ask to be in the diaries?

A: Again, until I go back to Oz it’s pretty unlikely that one of the European girls will have heard of me. There actually has not been a girl who has slept with me (or asked to) merely because they know I am the Pantsman, although I am sure it would be different if I was back home. Having said that though, my recent return home did witness a few girls (whom I already knew) visibly gagging for inclusion in the diaries. I just sat at the bar in amusement, and pittied their miserable existence.

Q: Has writing the diaries changed your hunting habits such that you’re now clubbing for the diaries rather than the conquest itself?

A: Definitely. It’s like playing finals footy. Until recently, every time I walked into a club I felt I had to produce something special, something better than the last episode, because without a score next to my name, I’d have no material. Some nights I would snog a few chicks just for the sake of the diaries.

Right now though I seem to have reached saturation point. I’ve complied enough material to fill a book, and so I have become somewhat lazy, almost complacent in my approach. I figure I’ve collected enough stats for the moment, and so I’m waiting for the gold, the real glamours. It’s like facing up to an in-form Alan Donald with a new ball. You play defensively, over after over, until inevitably he lets one fly loose down the legs-side which you cart over the mid-wicket fence. The earth is slow but the ox is patient.

Q: How many people do you think have read the diaries and provide some anecdotes of its popularity.

A: It is so difficult to estimate, and it is growing all the time. In February we estimated it at 200 people, by March it had climbed to 10,000. Now, in all seriousness we are thinking it’s over 50,000. It’s basically done the rounds at all the big multi-nationals, accounting firms and banks. I’m even told the Aussie cricketers have read the diaries! I personally have seen evidence of the diaries going through the hands of people in every Australian city as well as Paris, London, Auckland, Jakarta, New York, Hong Kong, Toronto and even Riga! The power of e-mail is both amazing and frightening.

There are plenty of comments from readers on my website, but one of my favourites was just the other day:

“It’s 2 cups of comedy, a spoon full of adventure and just a pinch of filth. The Pantsman manages to paint a picture without ever touching a brush…vive le Pantsman!”

My other favourite was one guy who said, “All I can say is: this is your world and we just live in it”.

Q: How many people know who the pantsman is and how have you kept it so tight. Have their been occasions when it almost got out.

A: I am pretty certain that every person who knew me (even if only by name) back in Australia now knows I am the Pantsman, and I have no control over that. But part of the pull, I think, of this whole Pantsman saga is people talking to each other at work or at the pub, and asking “God, who is this guy?” or “I wonder where he’s from?”. And so I want to keep that edge to it. More importantly though, I’d like to be able to walk into a bar back home and not have people whispering “hey look, that guy is the Pantsman”. I don’t want to be a recognisable face, and I can honestly say that fame and/or fortune is not one of my goals. I just want to make people laugh, and I am happy to remain anonymous to do so.

There were however two occasions while visiting Oz last month where half the bar were looking at me because they had heard I was the Pantsman. One girl was in total awe as she had only received the diaries that day, and she could not believe I was sitting there in the pub! Half expecting a slap across the face, she surprised me by commending me on my writing. I was keen to make her part of the next episode, but was blatantly shepherded off the ball by her accompanying guard-dog.

Q: What is your favourite story from all of the diaries?

A: Well there’s been some hilarious episodes this year which remain unpublished for now. But I couldn’t go past the 2 days leading up to the Latvian sauna incident. It was just one bizzare incident after another involving lemons, lizards and shattered helmets. And then that memorable quote about “finishing”…I don’t think any of us will ever forget that magic moment.

Q: Have you noticed other men now using more sporting analogies for their conquests?

A: I doubt I was the first to do so anyway, I guess I was just the first to write about it. But funnily enough there has been another e-mail flying around titled “Pantsman 2: South America” which showed some remarkable similarities to my style of writing. I laughed it off, although I was pissed off that the hack in question had associated his stories of Brazilian hookers with the “Pantsman” handle. I wonder if he’s heard of Copyright Law?

The only message I have for this clown is this: “Just remember where you and I differ. You paid for it”.

Q: What can you tell us about “ “?

A: I want this web-site to be a source of information for the male population around the globe, eventually providing them with photos and reviews of various countries, their women and their nightlife; the sort of information you just won’t find in your Lonely Planet guide. For the uninitiated, the original diaries will also be accessible and will be updated with a subsequent episode each fortnight. Eventually the reading public will also have the opportunity to read the unreleased diaries of the 2000 season so far. There’s also a Q&A forum where you can ask the doyen of sleaze, Uncle Pants, any questions on love, sex, girlfriends, pub cricket or the tour itself. Women are even allowed access to the site.

Q: Where did you learn to write so well and where did you develop your repartee? Footy club, school mates etc?

A: I loved writing stories for English in my junior years, and I still recall my teacher in Year 7 (after giving me an A+ for an essay) commenting that I had “a very vivid imagination”. I slackened off in high school and had little time for reading and writing. It wasn’t until my early twenties that I rediscovered my form from my childhood years when producing an end-of-season report for a footy tipping comp I ran for my mates. It was a little ripper. I also managed to produce some memorable 21st speeches.

Then in the season of ’98/’99 I wrote a handful of newspaper articles in a similar format to say, a footy article in The Age, complete with football or cricket photos. These articles were focused on our weekends out chasing chicks, and I would e-mail them to my mates. I think this is where the real passion started. I’ve also had an idea for a book for the past two years, which I am still keen to write.

The repartee was always there too. In my uni days, my mate and I developed the infamous red-card system, where we would carry a lamiated red-coloured card in our wallets each time we went out. In the event of being pestered by an annoying guard-dog, or if a chick merely gave us a bit of attitude, we would reach for the wallets and “red card” them from the arena. I am still not sure how we were never slapped.

In the year preceeding my tour of duty, the sporting references were rife amongst my mates. Chasing girls was a big game, and we treated it accordingly. We’d often have a few beers before going out on weekends, and as a warm-up we’d kick the Sherrin in the lounge room with the sterro blarring, in a manner identical to what you see in the changerooms before an AFL game on Channel 7. The post-mortem of a game was equally as important, and numerous Saturday mornings would be spent on the couch at my flat (aptly named the Bosom & Ale House) reliving the debaucherous tales from the previous evening.

Q: What is your longest relationship in which you have been faithful?

A: You’ll probably fall off your seat at this one! I was seeing a girl for almost 5 years, but I don’t regret my time on the sidelines. Relationships can be great, but I looked at the bigger picture and realised I wanted to represent my country at the highest level. Since then, I think my longest “relationship” (if you want to call it that) is about 2 weeks.