WHAT IS GOING ON?
Caught an early morning flight to Brisbane for work, yes BRISBANE. I've afraid to go out tonight in case the rednecks get me. But that's why this is just going to be a quick post in which I try encompass everything I am feeling at the very moment.
AB's 79 off 55. Why, world, why? You'd think God was spiting me or something, which I believe he is.
Bryce McGain thinks he's still in with a chance, over at SMH. Freddie thinks England have to be "fearless without being reckless" in order to win the Ashes. Which brings me to...
Phil Hughes. Ah, you'll hear that name often. His batting is so endearingly ugly I can't help but like him. His fifty-over critics have been silenced by a hard hit 119 from 112 balls for Middlesex. There is seriously something about Hughes which indicates to me he's got the necessary skills to take over the world. If I were him, I'd be planning it already.
The thing about Phil is that his batting is so incredibly unorthodox and he is so bloody short that nobody can find any appropriate way to describe him. Journalists and commentators have taken to calling his style "swashbuckling". I laugh in their faces.
That's all from me. I won't be on too much in the next few days either so don't cry if you fail to get your daily fix of Amy. I'll try talking cricket whenever I can.