November 29, 2006

# 115


"He's gone down [to the nets] to work on a few technical things," explained England's coach, Duncan Fletcher. "He's pretty confident that can help him improve his bowling."

- DF answering questions about England's spearhead bowler Eddie Hemmings? Actually, no. It was DF answering questions about England's spearhead bowler Chuck Harmison (care of

Personally, I think a few days in a room full of mirrors is a better solution: turn off the lights; turn off the air-con and release the Eastern Brown snakes. The first ball he bowled can be excused as a brain-fart or a problem with the way his todger was placed inside his jockstrap, but a match-return of 1/177 is a bloody disgrace.

At least Dingus Lee takes wickets.

PS Bring on Friday at the Adelaide Oval!



Ultra Toast Mosha God said...

Yeah, uhh...

What can I say?

A squad of supernaturally animated (Intra)Venus De Milo's with no heads could have taken more wickets than SH.

Perhaps out of the batsman's sheer terror than anything else.

Had he seen a fully mobile renaissance masterpiece wobbling uncertainly down the pitch like some grotesque parody of the Queen Mum, Ponting would probably have staggered back onto his own wicket, and given our boys/sculpted stone girls something to cheer about.

I should be made Director of english cricket. If only for sh*ts and giggles.

At least I would provide more legitimate entertainment than the deadpan justification of the keystone cops pratfalls by Mr Fletcher.

Kaufman said...

Yeah, I'm all for that. Then you, Radar (not the one from M*A*S*H) and I could put on a blue cap each, cover ourselves with Andy Symonds' primo el zinco creamo, plop a crown jewels protector down the front of the trousers, five-finger a hand-crafted piece of willow and roar like three drunken lions on our way to the middle of the Great Adelaide Colosseum for an unforgettable session of slaughter at the hands of Ooh-Ahh Senior McGrath and Co.

Fuck it would be stupendous to be bollocked in the head by a Dingus Lee bouncer... Look at what it did to Langer. And that was merely Ntini.

Defence rests and you're hired!

Ultra Toast Mosha God said...


Then I could sue McGrath for defamation of cranium.

I would be tempted to pull a Phil 'the cat' Tuffnell and get as stoned as a badger in the outfield, then just giggle like an idiot as McGrath launches his seamed missiles down the pitch at me.

Question: Could Steve Waugh hate us anymore?

Answer: Only if we lived next door to him.

Kaufman said...

I was not aware that Waugh Snr hated us. Did we taint his orange juice with a phantom jizz? What are you talking about, man?*

I think Phil Tuffnell would feel like pulling a Phil Tuffnell and join us in the shenana-geri-haliwells.

I'd opt for a king-sized doobie and the highly sought after position of fine leg (not interested in swapping for left-right combinations, so I'd be the immediate choice for third man). That way I'd be nearest the drinks cart (something light and breezy in this 35-degree heat, perhaps Windies' style rum and cranberry juice) and I wouldn't ever have to field a ball cause the security guard would be on my "payroll", if you catch my Courtney Walsh drift.

Hey, it ain't my country, right, so I could be just like every other former Aussie-turned-Brit English cricketer and be mediocre at everything bar drinking and choofing.


(We Lived) Under(neath) The Radar likes to be in the action. I imagine he'd volunteer his services at second slip, where he'd cop a few skull crushing blows from those that Jones parries into the deep blue.

* Guesses that SW may have referred to the Poms in an unsavoury manner at some point in his commentary or reporteresque day job.