It must be tough living in England. All that rain, all the time. Just raining non-stop, not even particularly heavy constantly, just... raining constantly.
So how must the English cricket team be feeling now? Rained in, I suppose. Oh ha ha, you say. Not a funny joke. I agree. But tell me, if the game has been delayed by an hour, will that cause a whole sequence of unnatural events to occur which end in the game being drawn and the West Indies counting their blessings?
That was just to scare prospective English fans. I just have a terrible habit of predicting the worst possible outcome early on in Tests.
But of course, a draw isn't the worst possible outcome of this match. The Windies could rally and bowl England out for... okay, I won't even go there. It's too horrifying for words, I imagine.
So I'm at a loss. Should I watch rain or do something productive with my time? I'm resigned to do the latter. You have no idea how much of the Budget I can cite off the top of my head, not to mention Turnbull's reply. The perils of work, my friends. It means you actually have to work, and no matter how much I love Kev, I think even I'm ready to rip Swanny's budget papers to bits. I narrowly escaped being locked in Parliament for a day, pouring over the Budget, but it still caught up to me in the end. It always does, this work.
Alright, I'm off, but I pledge to keep one eye on the cricket in Rainland.
By the way, Delhi over Punjab just because they can.
Day-night cricket and the fire in the bin
2 hours ago