Sunday, 6 September 2009

Rest In Peace, Amy

My name is Kate. I was one of Amy’s closest friends before she passed away in July in a car accident. She was 26. For a long time I’ve been deliberating over whether I should post this and I haven’t known how to deliver the painful news to people I don’t know. I wasn’t even sure whether I should say anything at all, but I feel a responsibility to post this because Amy obviously felt this blog held some importance to her or she wouldn’t have continued posting until she did.

It is very hard to write this so soon after and I still feel hurt, but some of you may have grown close to her and so deserve to know what has happened. Amy didn’t talk about this blog extensively with me, mainly because I do not follow cricket and I barely know how to play it. We’d known each other since high school and she had always been the one who’d excelled at this sport. She was selected for the NSW all schools team and very nearly entered a career in playing cricket but it was hard for her because she never had the support she deserved and eventually she chose other talents over this and became a journalist.

Amy talked more about this blog with her boyfriend Andrew, and it was him who told me that we should probably tell readers of her blog what had happened. He was going to write this post himself but he wasn’t able to, just as it is so hard for me to do this now. I can only assume that this blog meant something to her because she kept writing even after she recently changed jobs and started working in Canberra as a staff member handling media relations for Kevin Rudd’s office. It was physically and mentally taxing and because of it we hadn’t been in much contact for the few weeks before she became sick. But she kept posting here and so I feel you should at least know what has happened to her. Amy was quite sick with the flu when she passed away, and she’d been driving back from Canberra Hospital when the accident happened. She wasn’t the driver at fault, but she might have been able to save her life if she wasn’t feeling a little lethargic from the Tamiflu she was taking.

I would just like to say that Amy was an amazing person. She was so dynamic. There were so many facets to her life. She was a writer, manager, feminist, sportsperson and as she joked to me the last time we talked, “a political lackey”. I like to think that most people didn’t know the whole Amy except for Andrew and close friends and family, not because she didn’t want them to know but because there was always so much going on with Amy it was almost intimidating. I hope that some of you got to know more sides of her than one and I feel regret for those who didn’t get the chance to because she was well worth knowing. For as long as I can remember, right through to high school, Amy was involved in the community, volunteering at any charity that would take her in, doing her bit to make her mark on the world. Now she is gone, these marks seem to be everywhere I look. She felt very strongly about things and hated discrimination of any kind. A good deal of her earnings went to microfinance organisations and she’d made the lives of many women around the world better through this. It’s as though she was only just on her way up the ladder of success when she passed away and the injustice of this cannot leave me.

Maybe something even more important to Amy was music. Sometimes it felt like she knew every song ever written. She didn’t, of course, but that was Amy. She loved good music. I always thought she could hold her own in a conversation with Alan Brough or Myf Warhurst. Amy always told me that her earliest memory was of when she was 2 and at the Live Aid concert. Her parents were always big on music too, and they’d been living in England for a few years when they attended Live Aid in 1985. Amy said she didn’t remember much, just a huge surge of people and noise, but it was still a defining moment in her life. She was 8 when Freddie Mercury died and 18 when George Harrison did, and both times she cried because music and the people related to it were such a big part of her life. Amy was probably more devoted to The Beatles than any other band. She was the truest supporter I’ve ever met, and a genuine appreciator of their music. She was also the only Beatles fan I know who didn’t hate Yoko Ono, but rather, loved her for being a strong, amazing woman. Soon after we met each other in high school, Amy wrote to Yoko telling her how much she admired her as a feminist and I can still remember Amy’s shock when Yoko actually wrote back with some kind words and a “thank you”. I’ve never heard the end of it. That was a huge thing for Amy when she was a teenager. From then on, music and feminism have been two massive parts of her life.

It took a while to find the necessary details to access Amy’s google account and post this, but it has been sorted out now. I hope that some of you got to see the real Amy for the strong, funny person she was and I hope you remember her in years to come. There were many, many people in this world who loved her, including me.

Amy’s funeral service was held on the 16th July. Rest In Peace, Amy.

I am a nature photographer for a magazine, but I’ve occasionally asked Amy to take a few shots of her. I’m not quite as good at photographing people, but this is one of my favourite photos of Amy. It was taken at the start of this year.

Feel free to use this photo of Amy for any appropriate purposes and to remember her as we will.


Kate Mezzoni

Saturday, 5 September 2009

Amy's last post

Amy had begun writing a post a few days before she passed away. It was a few words long and uncompleted, as it spoke of creating a Wordle, a graphical representation of the most commonly used words on a website.

We do not know whether she created one, but she was contemplating it. It seems fitting, then, that we do so for her, to bring this blog to a close and even to encompass all it represented in a few words.


Thursday, 25 June 2009

Australia's Horror Day

To be honest, I've had a bit of a horror run myself these past few days with real sickness and flu and all. Let me tell you, swine flu has got nothing on the ordinary flu strains going around this winter. This is the first time I've been able to get up for any extended period of time in days to do something productive. But what was I saying? Oh, right:

Shane Watson missed training on Monday because he was "a little stiff". The poor thing, he was just too stiff to spread his butter on his toast, let alone bowl a few overs in the nets. And word has also come in the past few days that he is injured.

We are talking about and international cricketer here. Let the injuries begin. If all goes according to plan Watson and his glorious English counterpart should bow out first. But if you let your mind run away from you a little, consider the possibilities. A freak accident taking out Hughesy and leaving Australia with no other option but to bring Clarke in as opener.

And if Clarke is opening, then everytime he wanders down the pitch to have a chat to Kato, he's in danger of losing his life, or rather, having it beaten out of him by a cricket bat-turned-club. So when Michael Clarke dies and Ricky walks in, The Wing Commander slips a few cricket balls down the skipper's way, and Ponting is too busy wondering why spitting on his gloves isn't giving him extra grip so of course he falls right into the trap and twists his ankle.

At this stage, Hussey walks in and England don't even try to sabotage his efforts, they just bowl at the stumps and Mike is gone for a golden duck. Brad Haddin thinks he can do it but he's Brad Haddin, so he can't do it. Jimmy Anderson sends in a bouncer which takes out Haddin and indeed, one of his eyes too. It is a horrific sight, blood is gushing everywhere, but England just laugh it off.

In this situation, Australia are fucked because Shane Watson is injured and Marcus North came down with another case of gastro, so they had to put Andrew McDonald's name down. They never thought it would eventuate to this, but it has and McDonald is their only real batting hope because Mitch hasn't yet declared himself an all-rounder so technically they only bat down to 7.

Needless to say, having his hair enclosed in a helmet with only his eyes for company was never a good idea, and Andrew is blinded by his own hair as the marvellous red colour is reflected around the inside of his helmet in a freak act of nature. He is also out injured.

Then Mitch walks in. He thinks he can bat, he knows he can bat, but he slips on some Haddin blood that is flooding the pitch because nobody bothered to remove Brad's body from the field and he's gushing torrents of blood from his eye socket. As Mitch slips on the blood, his arm flails and hits the stumps. Hit wicket. He walks off dejected because he has failed his country, the sorry bastard.

Hauritz walks in after Brett Lee dies of shock after hearing his own singing voice while listening to his song to motivate himself before the game. And just as England are congratulating themselves on the best victory ever, having injured half the Australian team and bowled them out in half a day for the lowest Test innings score ever, you suckers realise that I've been misleading you all along. Because at the other end of the pitch is Simon Katich, and Simon Katich is currently one pissed off motherfucker. He wants blood, preferably of the English variety, having swum in Haddin's blood for a good hour or so.

In a miraculous turnaround Australia rally, with Katich and Hauritz stacking on the runs with apparent ease. A force field has sprung around Hauritz and despite his mediocre spin bowling skills, he is suddenly the second best batsman on the pitch, after only Kato. Nothing can hit them and you are sitting here thinking, "Amy, you bitch. What a set-up. What a goddamn set-up, I hope you die." Well, I don't. And neither do the heroes of this story.

So in the most unlikely event possible, Hauritz and Katich get the runs in the next hour, working to rectify the damage caused by England's sneaky tactics and hopefully bat for the next 5 sessions. It is a big ask, but that force field is doing the job and Katich is no longer opening the batting, he is lower down where he likes to be and should be, so that's lucky. He has scored his first run when Australia are 7 wickets down and the feeling is great.

Then, in the good old English way, the players stop and they go to lunch. The best kind of sport involves regular meal breaks, including one for tea. Bloodshed has no place in cricket, not when it's time for high tea.

Brad Haddin's blood-soaked body remains on the pitch.

Monday, 22 June 2009

England's Ashes Hopes

Lie in the hands of 16 men among whom there is no MPV or Harmison. Not that we expected the former to play.

Their training squad for the pre-Ashes camp comes as no surprise. Capitalising on their spin wickets, England have included 3 spinners in the squad, which means Adil Rashid gets his go, and what's more, Ian Bell's also in for kicks. Note Bell has nothing to do with good spin wickets.

Will he get a game? I doubt it, or at least I wouldn't give him a game myself. He can carry drinks for all it's worth.

And will KP be fit for the start of the Ashes? He thinks not. Then there's also Freddie who's also coming off an injury, but by now England need to have learnt to compensate for him. I give him two matches tops before he does another muscle/limb/body part in.

The squad: 1. Andrew Strauss (capt), 2. James Anderson, 3. Ian Bell, 4. Ravi Bopara, 5. Tim Bresnan, 6. Stuart Broad, 7. Paul Collingwood, 8. Alastair Cook, 9. Andrew Flintoff, 10. Graham Onions, 11. Monty Panesar, 12. Kevin Pietersen, 13. Matt Prior, 14. Adil Rashid, 15. Ryan Sidebottom, 16. Graeme Swann

Another important question is WILL THEY WIN THE ASHES? We will find out in due course. I am, of course, hoping they don't but even if I were a closet England supporter, I'd be hunted down and killed by manic fans here. I cannot take that risk just to support a bunch of inbreds... Oi!

Just look at your royal family for proof.

Albie's fate in the World T20

I don't want to dwell on this for too long because it is truly a sad, sad thing that such injustices are happening in the world. But Albie Morkel... he didn't have a good time in the 2nd ICC World T20. He didn't have a good time at all.

And to think that last time he was one of its stars. I try to figure what it is that could be leading to his (relatively) dismal performance and inevitably, I reach the conclusion that he is either going in too late or with a shitload of pressure on him. Usually it's a combination of the two.

So I ask South Africa, why do you want to have your cake and not eat it? The original expression is pure rubbish, of course you should eat your bloody cake if you have it or it will go stale, and I've always felt this is more pertinent. Why the fuck do South Africa want to keep Albie's mutant powers in their clutches but then fail to utilise and capitalise on them? It's not as though he's a robot and he'll be just dandy again when they decide to dust him off sometime in the future, because human beings rust.

Okay, no they don't. Robots rust, but I just want you to think carefully here and not get confused by shit analogies, what is wrong with South Africa? They must be behind Albie's lack of firepower since around about January this year. Yes, my dears. I know which month he was last successful.

Clearly if you're walking around saying "Oh, but we have Albie Morkel. He can really hit the ball well" you'd actually turn around and play Albie? Yes? YES FUCKING YES. That is the answer. Die Mickey Arthur and damn you to hell right afterwards. On top of that, die Graeme Smith for being a flat-faced asshole and sticking around to make decent scores against rubbish sides like Scotland and Bangladesh but then failing to do so against tougher competition. That, by the way, is the perfect segue for me to completely devalue die AB's 79* against Scotland. DO IT AGAINST A REAL TEAM, BASTARD. And don't tell me now that he did because I don't want to hear it, I really don't.

In 5 innings, Albie made 54 runs. That's an average of 18. Fuck me if that isn't a rubbish conversion of ability into results. In a similar 5 innings, Jacques Kallis averaged 59.50. Surely, surely, if Jacques can open the batting and make that many runs, Albie would be far more capable of doing well if he were higher up the order. But no, Sticky Mickey has it in for him. He does, I know. I can tell from the evil glint in Mickey's eyes.

Albie's bowling average was the second highest on the team, bettered by everyone except Jacques. But then again, Jacques was the second-highest run scorer in the tournament and IS A FAT FUCK WITH A DOUGHNUT ADDICTION SO HE GETS OFF SCOT-FREE. In a shit consolation, Albie bowled a wicket maiden this tournament. Boo freaking hoo. It's not like he existed for the rest of it anyway.

And as for die AB, I'm not even going to mention anything of his. He can also go to hell with Mickey Arthur and try not to be so disgustingly successful next time. I'd tell him to go play lawn bowls but then he'd turn out to be good at that too.


But whatever, Albie is over South Africa. He is moving to Guatemala to play some real cricket and teach those bastards a lesson. Maybe he'll also migrate to the Netherlands and really rub it in.

In the words of Marie Antoinette, and Albie himself, "LET THEM EAT CAKE!"

Boom Boom Afridi

You know I was going to say it, I just had to. I've been sitting on this all day because apparently I changed internet service providers and I DIDN'T EVEN KNOW. Those liars. So that's one giant fucking problem I have to deal with when I get home.
But wait, AFRIDI. He wasn't very "boom boom" at all, actually. More measured and playing like Sri Lanka normally would, only it was Pakistan. So that was strange and out of character, but I can only assume some sort of Freaky Friday-esque thing happened and the two teams switched souls. I guess that means Barbara Harris was living inside of Afridi so obviously they had to win. Barbara Harris is a winner, everyone knows that.

As for Sri Lanka, Jayasuriya and King Kumar were the only real standouts as they attempted to rally and post a decent score. But how about Angelo Mathews at the end? That was strange and rather fortunate. Poor Dilshan, he could have gone on to do great things. As it was, his duck led to a final which isn't all that memorable, except perhaps for Pakistan, for whom this is a pretty great win.

And as expected, this is huge in Pakistan. So huge their President is giving something like 1 million rupees to Younis and Afridi, and half that to the rest of the team. Um, wow? Don't mind me saying so, but I'm pretty sure there's a billion other places he could be putting that money to use. Anyway, Pakistan win so all the more glory to them.


And this might not have sunk in yet, but the tournament is OVER. It is the greatest feeling in the world when a tournament like this ends before you've gotten so sick of it you never want to turn on the television again.

Sunday, 21 June 2009

The Other Final

It just dawned on me that I hadn't said anything about the women's final to be held today which I actually hold a large interest in. New Zealand versus England, both great teams, very in-form and ready to KICK ASS.


Yes, they are. So who are you going for? England have the services of the rather amazing Claire Taylor, and New Zealand are hopping around with Amy S. the cricketer. It's obvious who I'm going for because it would be criminal to ditch my own people. Or person. Anyway, the Kiwi thing also comes into effect so I am rendered incapable of supporting anyone but them, but all the best to England too because they're smashing.

And yes, I did just say 'smashing'.

Go the Kiwis, go the Poms also, and go WOMEN'S CRICKET. It's bloody brilliant to watch. Are you with me? Yeah? Yeah? Yeah.

Grinding men to a pulp.

Saturday, 20 June 2009

Laughlin's Chicken Legs

Well, I said I thought he had chicken legs and I had to do some searching to find out just why I thought so. I also promised Chris evidence. Turns out the reason I think Ben Laughlin has chicken legs is... because he does.

Behold the Chicklin Legs:

They're ridiculously scrawny, as is this post. But then again, ridiculousness is my specialty.


This photo was sort of reminiscent of this past Spotto so I had to put it up as the Australian counterpart to the Brits. Plus, it's another chance to show Ponting looking stupid.

Spotted: Will he catch it?

On the topic of Australians, something just came to mind. Has anyone else noticed that Ben Laughlin has chicken legs?

The Final

It is so close I can practically tell which teams are going to be in it.

Oh wait, I actually can. Sorry, it's just the IPL hangover, it still hasn't gone away. A tournament in 16 days would be blasphemy to sponsors and the economic sensibilities of a man who cannot afford socks.

So, Pakistan vs. Sri Lanka. WHO WILL WIN? I don't mind either really, but I had made some half-baked comments that I'd be supporting Pakistan so why the hell not? But after the amazing performance the Lankans had against the Windies, wouldn't it also be some kind of injustice if they didn't walk away with the trophy?

Dilshan's 96 was mindblowing and I fell asleep sometme after Angelo Mathews' first over which was pretty fucking brilliant. Mind you, if I was capable of staying up longer I would have, but my body just gave way. Looks like not much went on after that in the way of a dramatic turnaround by the West Indies.

Friday, 19 June 2009

Tokenism, Hodge can do it

Cricket Victoria and the Victorian Police hope a few generic shots of cricket will appeal to the protesting Indian student community and hopefully appease their demand for justice and protection.

Fucking hell.

Note the supposed magic formula:

Cricketer + Police Officer + Indian Representative (with credit to sponsor KFC in biggest font possible) + Random Alleyway = Bravo, Instant Success! No need to actually deal with the problem at hand.

There's a difference between using cricketing figures for assurance and as a sort of relevant intermediary in the right circumstances, but this is bizarre and sadly undermines the seriousness of the attacks actually taking place in Australia.

Unity is one thing, but this is utter rubbish.

The Stanford Redemption

Morgan Freeman would not be proud of what I have just done. Which is why I will make this short and sharp and FAST because the material is hysterical.

Allen Stanford (or "Sir" Allen Stanford as you folks who respect him in the slightest like to say) has been arrested in the US after he surrendered, the silly bugger. All that fraud and he thought he'd get away. Apparently the surrender went down a little something like this:

He had surrendered "to some FBI agents who were hiding out in black SUVs outside the residence where he was staying in Virginia". He walked out and asked if they had a warrant. Stanford told the agents to arrest him if they had a warrant, but if they did not have a warrant, he would go back to Houston to turn himself in.

A Ponzi scheme? "Nah," he says. Then a few moments later, "Okay, yes, maybe."
Allen Stanford, you will live on in the hearts of the ridiculous. The cricketing world always loved your style. And I will refrain from making a Matt Prior-related joke here, really I will. Because I have remarkable self-restraint and I BET MATTY'S WIFE ISN'T ALL TOO HAPPY ABOUT THIS.
Okay. I couldn't stop myself, so sue me.

The stickiest wicket of all.

The Real Wizard

Harry Potter is at the World T20 and not in the form of Daniel Vettori.

It is, of course, Daniel Radcliffe. Another Dan, another man. Or slightly post-pubescent boy.

Don't allow yourself to be tricked by his ways. The question is, is he really enjoying it? Or is his unfortunate facial structure preventing him from doing so?
This also gives England the handy excuse that the real reason they bowed out of the tournament was because an evil sorcerer had been magicking Stuart Broad's brain into mush and invading Colly's mind with unimaginative field placements.

South African Comedians

How I wish I'd been there to see it. If only I'd had the chance, I would probably have laughed a whole lot more than I currently am now.

That doesn't mean Cricinfo hasn't saved me, because the age of the internet has made everything far more convenient and lovely for situations exactly like mine. It was this one match, thankfully I'll be watching the second semi and the finals, but damn this would have been one to watch.

Nevertheless, South Africa... gee, they're a bunch of funny fuckers. At the moment, they're conflicted. Should they put it down to choking or give all credit to Pakistan? They're really only one path, because Graeme Smith has already said "South Africa are not chokers" and will you look at that? They are. They're fucking chokers. A bunch of the most hilarious, stupidly, chokingly hysterical chokers. Try saying that real fast ten times. For the record, South Africa are going to give all credit to Pakistan. At least that way, they can pretend they're not chokers. Which they are.

I mean, what do I even say? Afridi is just fucking awesome, when he gets going. And all I have is figures to work on. For once, Albie wasn't the most expensive bowler on the side. I am pleased, he's making progress. Take that Mickey, you stupid piece of shit. Now who's the fucking allrounder? It's Albie. Even though he didn't do anything this match, HIS BOWLING WASN'T TERRIBLE. That's a relief.

On the subject of Afridi, he is made all the more awesome for blowing a kiss in Jacques' face. Goddamn, I would have killed to see that. Don't get ahead of yourself. I would have killed an AB, nobody else.
HA FUCKING HA in die AB's face. Out for 1, a useless dick, just the way I like it. Catching doesn't count either just because I say so. There is a photo of AB getting out. It is the best ever:

Any bowler who can make that happen is among the best in the world. And others may say that in a different way to me, in a "look at AB de Villiers, HE'S SO FUCKING HARD TO GET OUT" kind of way, but I say no. Getting die AB's wicket makes your moral compass automatically straighten towards north and no matter what you do, it will never swing south again.

What bowler wouldn't want that?

And for anyone who says Albie failed to perform, fuck off, darlings. He was run out, the sweet diddums. AB was secretly orchestrating the entire thing from the sidelines, so you can't blame Albie. Just look at me, I should be his manager, I could invent excuses for Albie every day of the week. He also apparently tripped over thin air on a ROFL delivery. I apologise, that was just my spirit, on the ground beside Albie, having astral-projected myself to England to the centre of the hype. If you looked carefully, it really was an Amy-sized block of air Albie tripped over. Alternatively, you could support the theory that I am really Amy Satterthwaite, in England for the women's World T20. In that case, it was also me making him trip. Whatever it is, the point is that HE WAS FUCKING BRILLIANT, OKAY? Relative to Ireland.

So, well, that's it, bitches. In the spirit of Afridi, I say goodbye. Not really, I'm not going anywhere. I've had enough of going places, I'm staying right here for Friday night. At home, that is.

It's Afridi and he really likes it.

Of course, there's always Wayne Parnell cowering in the middle of the pitch and revealing to us he's really some sort of freakishly young looking WWII veteran. That, and he is NOT SOUTH AFRICAN:


Boncam sends that last one in.

Thursday, 18 June 2009

The post and preview

Okay so I'm in a huge rush and I haven't had time to check anything so I'm just making this post because A POST IS A POST. And it has something to say, at least about the first semi which I might get the chance to watch if everything works out.

What do I say? Oh, right, South Africa vs. Pakistan. Obviously South Africa because they've now had a few days to prepare for this and despite their claims, they've really just been training 12 hours a day, not going to the movies.

You already know the drill about which player performs best and which performs the worst. Surprisingly, neither are from the Pakistani side. Do the math, kiddos. Or don't, I don't really care. Go Albie you fucking machine. Belt the shit out of that ball or I will pull off one of die AB's toenails.

I won't, I'm entirely opposed to torture. But that's something for you to think about.

I know I keep saying this, but TOMORROW I will be back in Sydney and therefore capable of actually posting properly. So bear with me here, I'm pretty exhausted, I've been on my feet flat out for a few days now and it's really fucking tiring. KRudd was looking awesome at the Press Gallery Ball last night. He's very smooth, that Kevin. I do quite like him, yes, as you no doubt know.

Wednesday, 17 June 2009

Albie Morkel is Noddy

I mentioned it in another post that Albie looked a lot like Noddy in a particular photo. Well, just look at him, Boncam has gone ahead and MADE ALBIE INTO NODDY. It is shocking, I know. Your brain may implode at the injustice, but you must bear it because this is art we're talking about here. Real fucking art:
Does he not look like the freakiest overgrown child ever? Kind of like die AB in real life.

Another Mitchell Johnson Flashback

I realise I didn't give you guys the last in the series, and you might be thinking, "well fuck, she's just posting a whole bunch of photos now, where is the substance?" but that will come another day. And if I were really posting a bunch of photos, there would be 3 spottos for today. That reminds me, if you see a Spotto and a good one at that, send it in. I like them. Since Yuvraj's manbags, the Spottos have been doing me some good. Although I do have a reserve of Spottos I've never gotten around to posting.

Alright then, here's the Mitch photo, guess the year:

He's all style.

One day I'll bring back those Michael Clarke questions. Just not now. Sorry, kids, it's how it goes.

Luke Wright the hobbit, ROFL the elf

And ROFL is an elf. An evil elf, to be precise, as detailed in this previous post of mine.

Now you have the backstory, Boncam has been getting creative photoshopping his countryman into an elf costume, and turning Luke Wright into a hobbit. It is evil, not just because ROFL is really just evil, but also because Wright himself is around the 1.8m mark and therefore not a hobbit.

But Boncam persists, and even though he did a very South African thing of ignoring height, it is still a rather awesome result. If I hadn't told you, you would be none the wiser as to the cunning brain that went into this:

See what he did there.

And then there's ROFL, the evil elf I can't help but love in all his angry spinning glory and shut-eyed swinging at balls. Cricket balls, that is.

Nice elf.

By the way, this post in no way warrants a dozen Anonymous people commenting with a "do Graeme Smith up as a tranny" type comment. It's not on, friends. This is a post about Luke Wright and ROFL, not Graeme Smith.

I can't hear you

I was going to post properly, but I'm afraid that's just not on today. Work, etc.

But for those of you who were unfortunate enough to see die AB receiving the MoM award in the India match, I have good news. It didn't actually happen. It was all a FIGMENT OF YOUR IMAGINATION.

I'm telling the truth because someone has to. And I'd never lie to you about something regarding die AB, would I? No, I didn't think so. There was a big mix-up, they actually meant A[l]B[ie] is the man of the match. Pretty good stuff for 8 runs and a shit over in the bowling, but I think we can safely say he deserved it more than anyone else did.

And New Zealand, oh New Zealand. You should have lost that one, but I didn't want you to. I really didn't.

Australia are pretending the tournament didn't happen and they're just focusing on the Ashes.

Apologies for the short post, but I am on twitter for exactly this reason. I'm not dead, just terribly busy and believe me, I'd prefer that I weren't but such is life. As it turns out, I offer amazing insights on twitter that NOBODY ELSE WILL EVER KNOW. Yes. Really.

Tuesday, 16 June 2009

England losing and other interesting stuff

About time, really. It's not like they were going to get much further in the tournament. It was already rather shocking they'd gotten this far. There isn't really much to say that others haven't said, except HAHAHAHAHA. Tossers.

In other news, New Zealand are afraid and I am afraid for them. The West Indies are through to the semis. Ireland have lost, just as they would. And India are blaming the IPL for their "fatigue", revealing the true purpose of the IPL, i.e. to provide a handy excuse for losing matches in the few months following it.

But more importantly, Albie Morkel is blogging (thanks to Boncam for the link). The sly devil can't help talking about his wicket maiden for an unhealthy period of time. It's okay, nobody minds. Why? Because he is too fucking awesome for you, mate. He also puts in some Aussie slang in a subtle acknowledgement that he reads my blog:
Also, he (ROFL) has a serious ‘bulldog’ factor. In Australia they say a sportsman like him has ‘mongrel’ in him.
Go you. Amongst other things, he details how he goes for a run through Hyde Park at night, baying at the full moon, to put that "country" mind at ease. Country? More like werewolf, Albie.
The warm-up week was a great success, the practise facilities have been excellent and the hotel is a very popular spot with the boys being right in the centre of London but also next to Hyde Park so the ‘country’ boys amongst us don’t feel too cramped!
Good stuff. Albie has also injured Jacques Kallis, in a show of brotherly affection, in order to get Morne a game:
But if there is an injury, he is raring to go.
The things he does for Morne.

In Die AB Watch, he's been going to the movies with some team mates to watch 'The Hangover'. Except I think he was too shocked by the sex jokes that he resorted to quoting the introduction of a newspaper review of the movie:
A few of the guys went to play golf after the journey yesterday, but I joined the group that went to watch a film called ‘The Hangover’, a fun comedy set in Las Vegas about three groomsmen who lose their soon-to-be married friend and then try to find him again.
Either that, or he's being sponsored by Warner Bros.