While the complete destruction of Bangalore has taken place by the RR bowling attack, I was almost hoping BRC would win. Why, you ask? Because of Dravid, I answer. If you're going to leave your newborn kid at home and trot off to another country to play for a drunken tycoon (okay, for cash too) you'd think a little winning would be the perfect way to start things. But no, he's out for a duck.
Then it's up to Boucher, ROFL or Mr. Smooth to step up. The first fails, but ROFL hit a boundary off Morne (HAHAHA, watch Albie bowl better later tonight) and then gritted his teeth together and made weird facial expressions as he excitedly looked for another gap in which to hit the ball to.
The variations of how all the player's say Morne's name is hilarious. But even better is the commentators talking about him after he took the Kohli catch or some other batsman:
"Speak of the devil."
Now if you were a rational person, that would make sense. But if you're A GOD-FEARING, JESUS-LOVING GOOD HOLY CHRISTIAN then the moment you hear that sentence your life is changed forever. Out come the crucifixes and holy water. Out comes AB's favourite book.
Really, if I were going to pick a devil in the Rajasthan team, I'd say Munaf Patel. Occasionally, you see flashes of his alter ego poking through and his eyes are replaced by fiery balls of hell. It is quite hard to pick up if you're not trained in the art of identifying devils like I am.
I'm also a ninja in my spare time, but I have dabbled in Ghostbusting.
What a disaster at Old Trafford
4 hours ago