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.

Sincerely,

Kate Mezzoni

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.

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.

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.

Shithead.

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.

WOOHOO! DO YOU NOT LOVE THIS MAN?

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.

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?

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.

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.

Spotto

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.

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:

"SUBJECTS OF BRITAIN, THE BOMB RAIDS HAVE BEGUN. GOD SAVE THE QUEEN AND MAYBE EVEN A FEW OF YOU TOO."

Boncam sends that last one in.

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.

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.

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.

The reveal of Graeme Smith

This is almost funny. As I said earlier, the RealGraemeSmith account on twitter has been suspended, and we were all pretty much over it.

But now there's a FakeGraemeSmith and they are intent on telling everyone the true identity of RealGraemeSmith. Oh no! Guess what? It's me.

Like you didn't already know. So how about I make it official? I wrote RealGraemeSmith's twitter page. RealGraemeSmith was really me. Many of you already knew, but apparently it's scandalous or something.

It isn't.

Now go about your business again and don't forget to take Albie to lunch.

You have to take Albie to lunch

Finding a few minutes to make this post. I will talk LATER.

Apparently there is a list in South Africa - the the Mail & Guardian’s list of the 300 young South Africans you have to take to lunch. And while I don't particularly know how influential or important this list is (although it does seem to have considerable weight), I will say that Albie Morkel is on the list.

Success! It's only a matter of time before he takes over the world. According to SuperSport, there are seven other cricketers who it on there, being Graeme Smith, JP Duminy, Morne Morkel, Johan Botha, Wayne Parnell, Dale Steyn and Imraan Khan.

Guess who's not on the list? Yes, it's die AB. Guess you don't have to take him to lunch. Hahahahaha, deal with that, you humble bastard.

All is not well for Albie, however, as die AB has seduced Mickey Arthur and turned him against Albie. It's true, he's bitching to Neil Manthorp about it:

Albie Morkel ranks amongst the world's best match-winning batsmen, but is his bowling a problem...? "Yes," says Mickey Arthur. "We have been trying to define his role for a year or more. Is he a frontline all-rounder or is he a batsman who can bowl a few overs? It's very important to the balance of the side that he shows his hand, one way or the other. Either Morkel bats at six and bowls as the "sixth or seventh" bowler, or he "bats at seven or eight and bowls - properly."

FUCK YOU, MICKEY ARTHUR. FUCK YOU. Okay, there's truth in that. Albie needs to work on the bowling or make it a part-time thing. But when someone whose name is "Mickey" (which is ten times more ridiculous than Albie, okay?) says shit like this, his secret relationship with die AB deserves to be called out on.

Well, at least Albie is currently the more successful brother. I don't think Morne has existed since he was swapped with Albie on the Test team in March.

Kyle Coetzer is a bloody genius

Via The Corridor, finally the footage of that excellent catch by Kyle Coetzer is available. Best catch ever, or at least in this tournament. The only thing that could have made it better is if it was die AB's wicket, and it wasn't but oh well:



The Scots are clever freaks. I like them.

Chucky

I'm not talking about Doug Bollinger here, but apparently someone over at Page 2 on Cricinfo thinks AB de Villiers would make a good Chucky.

First of all, what? Second of all, I don't exactly agree but the description is funny as hell:

AB de Villiers may not have the crazy eyes of the doll (part of a series called Good Guys) from Child's Play, but any casting director worth his salt can see how well the South African batsman with the choirboy looks would make a bone-chilling slasher by night, to go with his batsman-slaughterer persona by day. In the twilight hours, de Villiers changes his cricket whites for bloody overalls and pulls out a knife concealed in his bat handle, before going on a killing spree, targeting music critics who've been less than kind to his singing career. Yeah, AB, show them who you (really) are.

There is absolutely nothing better than taking the piss out of die AB's song.

Still, I can think of a dozen better cricketers to be perfect players by day and serial killers at night. The one that springs to mind first is Sybrand Engelbrecht. In fact, I do believe I had detailed this secret part of his life in a previous post of mine. The Ghost of the Knight, that's what he is.

The rest of the article gets a lot wrong, but points for trying. Any valiant movie watcher who combines that knowledge with cricket could come up with a better list. Yes, valiant.

The Rise and Fall of Graeme Smith

He had a tough run those few months he was on Twitter. Yes, the RealGraemeSmith is gone, his account having been suspended for what I can only assume is complete and utter awesomeness.

It just so happens that with the fall of Graeme Smith, Amy S. is now going Twitter on you. The timing of this is completely coincidental and you shouldn't read into it too much, unless of course you want to.

Will you look at that? It's the blog on twitter. For everyone who kept asking when I would do it. Maybe this way you'll know I'm still alive even if I don't post so often. Maybe.

The Perks of Being a Commentator

Anyone who knows what the title of this post is a reference to gets brownie points for being awesome.

I have often noticed that commentators, in all their retired glory, don't seem to find the actual commenting on cricket aspect of their job all that appealing, but rather, they prefer the more creative part. It lets them experiment, go wild, get their brains churning, etc.

I am, of course, referring to the nondescript commentary they provide on what is going on in the brains of the cricketers. You'd think half these men gave up their dream of being script writers from the marvellous and extensive thoughts they invent for the players. Thankfully, having retired from the game and secured a commentary position with a top notch broadcaster, they're free to pursue their long lost dreams in which they provide the voices for the puppets on the field.

In fact, they practically shit themselves when the captain walks up to his bowler and has a nice long chat with him. "Brilliant!" the commentators exclaim. "What might they be saying? Ah, I know..." At which point he proceeds to describe in painfully boring detail what the on-field conversation is. Sometimes they come up with thoughts/dialogue for the players that are outlandishly far-fetched, turning a slightly grim expression into an "OH NOEZ!!!!1!!! WE R FCUKED!!!" But it's all part of the job, really. Having unnecessarily translated a facial expression or conversation for audiences around the world, the men at the helm smile to themselves contently. The world is a better place with everyone knowing just what you think is going on in Chris Gayle's head.

Sometimes, I listen to their imaginings of conversations and I think, if they're going to offer something up, why not make it wonderfully interesting? Why not tell listeners that the reason Vettori is looking so unhappy out there is because he's cheating on his wife with Baz? If I were offered the opportunity to deliver such truths to listeners, I wouldn't stop at anything. I would exercise creative license to turn a word of congratulations between players on opposing teams into reason for calling them out on match-fixing or batting for the wrong side, and literally this time.

Unfortunately, all we have is a bunch of smug old men inventing a completely unfunny line of dialogue for Sehwag and then chuckling at their own cleverness. The power of commentating, if it rested in other hands, could be put to better use.

New Zealand

New Zealand.

They just gave Umar Gul the first five-for in T20 international history. So, like, ever.

They are also intent on losing this match. What the fuck.

This is extremely embarrassing, and I'm not even a Kiwi.

The best search ever

Glad to see there's someone in the world who doesn't like die AB. The following search ended up here:

fucking ab de villiers

And I believe it is said in a vehement, anger-filled way. A "fucking AB de Villiers keeps being an overtly humble prick" kind of way. Not a "I'd like to know how best to go about fucking AB de Villiers way".

At the same time, I have terrible searches leading to my blog. Take, for example:

jacques kallis muscular

Oh yeah. Take care not to vomit. That reminds me, there's a question I've been pondering for a while. Is there anyone in this world who actually likes Jacques Kallis, and if so, why the fuck do they?

South Africa set a record

Most consecutive T20 International wins ever. But wait, was anyone actually surprised they won against the West Indies? On rolls the South African juggernaut as they flatten teams on their way to the finals.

Despite Chris Gayle's valiant attempts to distract them with some ultra-cool sunnies, the saffas did not budge. They've had good practice at this, especially after Stuart Broad's attempts to deliberately distract the South African batsmen. Also because once their eyes lock onto the missile, also known as the ball, they do not take their eyes off it, not even to look at Broad's delicate hands.

You know what's creepy? As I check Cricinfo for Kallis' bowling figures because they're pretty fucking funny, I see they have also spoken of the "South African juggernaut rolling on. I don't write for them, just in case you were wondering. My singular brain is on par with their collective brains, however. Jacques' figures are 2-0-23-0 by the way. Hahahaha, that's far too good. Fingers crossed he'll stop playing T20s.

I won't mention Albie's figures because this is my blog and I can do whatever the hell I want. You want fairness? Go somewhere else. He was brilliant, just brilliant. A wicket on a no ball which is better than no wicket at all, and a small error involving a wide which ended up costing 5 runs. BRILLIANT.

Wayne Parnell had to do even more this match to finally get the MoM award. 4/13 is the result of his mastering the art of bowling yorkers and actually bowling at the stumps. With all the creative shit bowlers are trying to come up with, it seems everyone forgot that simply bowling at the stumps and waiting for a wicket is remarkably successful.

Lendl Simmons is the only batsman on the West Indies side who should be walking away from this match with a smile on his face, although he might not be smiling because they still lost despite his 77. Seriously, the things some people have to put up with...

And now I come to Albie. You were waiting for it all along, I know. That 10 off 8, especially after the perfect opportunity presented itself when die AB got ahead of himself and got out on 17. After being promoted up the order to actually come in before the 16th over. That was amazing, that last bit. Everything was set in place for Albie to kill someone, preferably with his bat. He didn't, but the very clever Jerome Taylor was behind it. The smart bastard bowled a few bouncers and then nailed Albie with a great yorker. Even Albie appreciated that one. Super Shades Gayle had instructed Taylor to go about targeting Albie with bouncers and this is CLEARLY him going after the most dangerous batsman on the side. I mean, obviously. For this reason, Albie's dismissal was alright. He felt the respect as he walked off that field.

I think Nasser Hussain wants to marry die AB, just like every other commentator out there.

And in the current match, New Zealand are killing me. Dan the Man is playing but... they're killing me. They really are.

What I am going to do today

Today I am going to set aside a good five minutes to laugh at India.

I will then laugh at Dhoni for an extra special reserved period of time.

Then I will bake a cake, for reasons to be explained later in this post.

Next, I will watch Jacques Kallis get out for a duck, followed by another duck from die AB.

After this, I will watch Albie Morkel hit the ball out of the fucking park and pillage the same Windies that beat the '07 champions.

As I am doing this, I will cry tears of joy and blow out the candles on the cake, all 28 of them. I will say "ya did well, kid" to the television as Albie goes on to make a half century.

Then I will watch New Zealand destroy Pakistan.

All in a day's work.

Phil's Baggy Green Fetish

Before I allow myself to collapse in a heap of exhaustion, I simply must share this rather creepy interview with little Phil Hughes which sees his eyes zoning out for a moment as he describes in excruciating detail the ritual of sniffing his baggy green that he regularly performs.

It's kind of freaky, like something a sex-obsessed teenage boy would do, only replacing the baggy green with something far different. In an interview with The Daily Telegraph, Phil lets his alter ego poke through:

"I keep it locked away in a pouch in the top left-hand corner of my wardrobe. Every day I make sure it's there. I'll have a peek. It might be in the morning, at night, or even if I'm having a coffee, I'll walk upstairs and look at it. I'll smell it sometimes. It smells like alcohol because of the couple of wins we had in the first Tests in South Africa."

The mental image of Phil furtively sniffing his cap is not one I'd like to keep. If this is what he does to his baggy green, what would he do if he ever got his hands on the Ashes urn alone in a room? Actually, don't even think about that. You might say he's just enthusiastic about living the Aussie dream, but the great Australian dream is to own a house with a decent-sized backyard and I don't see anyone else humping the playset in the backyard. When you start sniffing things, I think it's safe to say you're going a little overboard. Or when you publicly admit to sniffing something.

So while Phillip guards his baggy green under lock and key, occasionally springing surprise checks on it to make sure it hasn't escaped his clutches, I can't help but wonder whether there have been similarly enthusiastic cricketers in past years.

He wants to touch it all over.

The thing about Shane Watson

Okay, I might as well get this out of the way. I've refrained from doing so previously because it's weird in a very strange way but now I really just have to say it. The thing about Shane Watson is that I cannot dislike him and there is a very specific reason for that.

It is because of this photo:

You might think that's well and fine, and that there's nothing particularly special about the photo, that in fact he looks a little retarded, but you see that expression? I know a three year old who makes the exact same expression. And I like the kid.

So you see, therein lies the predicament I am in. After making the initial association with a tiny little midget belonging to a friend of mine, I am doomed to forever make that association with Shane Watson. And while he most certainly does not look the way he does in the photo, I can't help it, I immediately think of cute kids. And that makes it all the more difficult to dislike Shane.

In that way, while he may not be my favourite cricketer, I will be unable to dislike him either. It is the way of the world, I have no hand in it. And that is the end of this explanation. So for future reference, just keep this in mind. I am rendered incapable of disliking the man and it will show.

Albie gobbles up KP

Gobble gobble. You'd think the same too if you saw the following:

He was just really happy is all. That's how 28 year olds look when they're happy, like the innocent bliss you feel when you don't know that later in the day you won't get a chance to bat because a fat fucker hogs the limelight. That same man then goes on to be MoM when clearly it should have been Albie getting it, JUST BECAUSE.

If I had to nominate the best South African bowler in the England match, it would be tough. Because there was no clear winner, they were all great. Oh fuck it, one of them was clearly the best.

Have a guess. Go on, guess.

If you thought Wayne Parnell, get the fuck off this blog.

I'm talking about the REAL star whose efforts went unnoticed, even though he bloody well bowled the best he ever has in his life. Yes, it was Albie Morkel the 28 year old. He went for no runs at all in his spell, his extremely long, hard fought spell. The one over spell which took concentration far beyond that which any other all-rounder in the world possesses. It wasn't just a maiden, it was a wicket maiden, as Albie ran down the pitch and gobbled up KP with his large mouth.

I'm sure if Albie had bowled more overs, he would have repeated exactly the same thing. That would silence all his critics.

England were... well, they were England. I'm sorry for them, I really am.

How I stalk my pubs halfway across the world

Catching up on more emails now. Phew.

There's a little something that I do that is unique to me, and it revolves around a rather strange fetish of mine, being to map the locations of every single pub in England on a giant world map stuck to my bedroom wall. I've got all the relevant pins in Cornwall, which is why it's such a travesty that I do not have any pubs located in London stuck there. It always disturbs me to know that.

That was before I discovered the Snaptu fancyapint app, and by extension, the Snaptu Cricinfo app. How it changed my pub-stalking life. Simon sends in the words that may have changed my life forever:

Chris Gayle - there's a cricket ball in my pint! - an anonymous report from the Dog House pub at Kennington Cross near the site of our disgrace (it exists by the way).

As I sat dismally in the Vauxhall End Stand at the Oval today reviewing the match scorecard and cricinfo’s commentary of the last over on my mobile phone I thought sod it - I'm out of here, find me a decent pub.

Luckily I use Snaptu's cricinfo app on my phone and guess what, it has the fancyapint? London pub guide on it too, so before long I was swallowing hard. It also has Twitter, so I was also swallowing hard as I read the banter coming in when I looked at the #WT20 tweets flooding the network!

Ah, here comes Ricky… his round I believe!

Apart from the fact it was useful for completing my pub world map, it's Cricinfo and it's on my mobile and I damn well like it. You might like it too.

But best of all, it's free. You'll go smiling to your grave.

Spotto

I'd almost forgotten about my email, but after a long time, I checked it and lo and behold, Q had sent in a rather funny Spotto involving Shahid Afridi and Umar Gul. It's the Pakistani enthusiasm they radiate that really gets you.

Spotted: A cosy feat of athleticism and strength.

The first mention of DLF Maximums in the World T20

It really happened, and the man to do it was none other than the evil die AB. I'm not taking into account the nights I spent shouting "Hit a DLF Maximum you bloody arsehole" at the television because that was just the awe-inspiring ability of Lalit Modi to win me over with commercialism.

I didn't, really. I'd kill myself before I started calling a six a DLF Maximum and even then, there's a catch involved with that. Can you guess what it is? I'll tell you what it is. The catch is that I'd already be dead so I wouldn't have to DLF anything from my grave.

Funny joke, Amy, you say. I agree wholeheartedly.

I'm deliberately not talking about the matches won or lost in the tournament so far because it is of little importance in the grand scale of things. Even falafels are more important than Ireland setting themselves up as everyone's bitch, and I don't particularly care about falafels.

What was I saying? Right, it's die AB deciding to drag poor Albie's name through mud and link him to the horror that was DLF Maximums:

After the three-hour coach ride up the M1 motorway from London, we gathered at the hotel and recognised Albie Morkel’s birthday. He is now 28 years old, and let’s hope he celebrates a day late with one of his trademark bursts of strokeplay, boundaries and DLF maximums.

Oh, what? What is that? Seriously, WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT? It's die AB bringing the IPL to its home-schooled cousin, the ICC World T20. And what's more, he's suggesting that Albie Morkel would commit the atrocious act of hitting a DLF Maximum and thus downgrade his own integrity while AB remains the good cricketer who only hit boundaries and sixes.

Putting the DLF Maximums aside, yes, I do hope Albie tries to knock Stuart Broad's bobblehead off. That would mean another player would be out injured, or in Broady's case, out headless. It appears any player with half a brain has decided this World T20 is not worth it so why not say "fuck it" and get yourself injured in order to avoid playing. Whether it be your groin or your Achilles tendon, everything's looking good for these smart cricketers. Judging by this rule, though, New Zealand are therefore the smartest team of all, so the accuracy of such claims needs to be revised.

In other news, this is the best headline ever. Becuase John Buchanan is so disgustingly evil that it hurts to look at him. And he really is going to work with the enemy. For everyone who thinks this is Buchanan spying on England for the Aussies, no it fucking isn't. It just isn't. Will you look at the slimy bastard? While England smugly find scraps of paper which just happen to be lying on the dressing room floor with Australia's Ashes secrets written on them, the Aussies have responded in the only way they possibly can, and that is to reject the English in any way possible. In this way, Derbyshire have "been successfully humiliated", according to an exclusive secret interview with Ricky Ponting. It's typical Ponting, mistaking a charitable offer from locals doing their small bit to save face for Australia in the face of their embarrassing defeat in the World T20 as a desperate attempt to absorb some of Australia's "glorious charisma" through osmosis during a one day match. Instead, Ponting hopes to do shit all in Leicester before the Ashes.

Today's matches:
New Zealand over Ireland.
England over AB.
Albie over England.
England over Jacques Kallis.
ROFL over England.

And here's to hoping, everyone's favourite Kiwi gets better. Actually, that all of them get better.
As a side note, I did something very evil in this post and I don't apologise for it at all as I continue in my production of anti-AB propaganda.

Spotto

Just very quickly, and I know this is not soccer, but damn, would you expect them to win anything except the encouragement award for freaks?

Spotted: Misfits FC

A John Davison Story

I just got back from an interesting dinner in which I learnt something new about John Davison. And although I just called it an interesting dinner, it was actually shit boring because I was seated at the same table as a bunch of dickheads, all with highly inflated egos which can only come from a lifetime of boarding at a prestigious school and possibly being molested by priests because that is the way with these boys' schools, isn't it? Knox Grammar, I'm looking at you. Or was that teachers?

Innocent young boy prepares to morph into Mary Poppins.

Anyway, so while the 20-somethings discussed European politics, being highly trained in the art of being fuckwits, I found myself involved in a conversation with a woman next to me. And at a table nearby, there seemed to be a sporting discussion going on which, amongst other things, involved cricket. So blah blah, one thing led to another, and the woman ended up telling me a story of how a bloke named John Davison, who she now believes is a relatively famous cricketer of some sort, had once asked her out when she was in high school. Yes, indeed. It's that John Davison. I would like to say that she said yes, but in fact she didn't. As she told me, she was sort of different to the pack and in order to maintain her integrity (or something along those lines) she turned him down.

Why, you ask? Good question. Because he went to an "asshole-infested, sickeningly self-obsessed private school". Of course, she didn't say exactly that. I'm paraphrasing very loosely. But basically, he went to one of those schools, and as I look it up now, I see it is Saint Ignatius' College. The woman in question went to a different school, quite obviously, and she never did know whether this John guy wasn't half as bad as the other bastards that went to the school, but she said no anyway.

Apparently John Davison had a thing for redheads.

One of those posts

In which I deliver news of some kind. This time it's not entirely positive, I'm afraid. In fact, it's rather disappointing for me to have to say this, but say it I must. It seems I might not be able to carry on continuing this blog for much longer, or with the detail of past. The new job is, well, to put it simply, exhausting. Exhausting beyond belief, and a real life commitment that eats away at your time demanding the dedication that my previously flexible job did not. And it's to be expected, of course. Working for the people that run your country is always going to be a soul buster, and perhaps even a dream job.

Which is why I find myself in a dilemma and at a crossroads, because while I may normally have been able to do my job, run my life and also blog, now it's a little more difficult to continue blogging. I do think I would be able to perhaps blog once a day in a post which encompasses just about everything I'm thinking or what I'd usually say, but would it even be worth it? I'm putting that question out to anyone who cares enough to answer it.

So that is the news, and this is the post. Good day to all you folks out there who read this blog. Or goodnight. Either works.

Also, a quick look at the blogroll tells me that apparently it's Albie's birthday today. Poor guy, he's already 28 and he's only played in one Test. You're not getting any younger, Albie. And why on earth did he fail to capitalise largely on die AB's loss in the match against New Zealand? Damn you to hell, die AB, cursing Albie's chances all the time. I know it was him because who else would wish Albie ill?

England's women fare well

Amidst all this talk of Australia's pathetic performances and the chance that two minnows may make it into the Super Eights stage, there is the point to note that there is an English side that stands a chance of winning this tournament, and it's their women's side.

The boys could learn a lot from their women who cleaned up the Kiwis in a practice match. Knowing the men's team, a warm-up against New Zealand would have met exactly the opposite result. I do believe Amy S. the cricketer played for New Zealand. Nice. I don't know why, but I inevitably end up supporting New Zealand in cricket matches. It just happens, I have no control over it. Maybe I do like the poor fellows across the sea.

In tonight's matches (or today's, depending on where you are) it's South Africa against NZ, and the Netherlands against Pakistan. Bit of a no-brainer, seeing as I've just said the thing about my inability to go against New Zealand. The Kiwis over SA, and the Dutchmen over Pakistan. The first of these because I couldn't stand die AB doing his usual shit again, and then overdoing the humility afterwards. Also because I need Dan the Man to play today and unleash the power of his spectacles on die AB. I'm all in favour of Albie topscoring for the saffas, though. Really, it's the only outcome I'm in favour of.

As for the Netherlands over Pakistan, imagine the Super Eights being comprised of A QUARTER minnows and three quarters usual teams. That's almost unheard of. Also because their uniform is orange and no other country would have the balls to do that. I mean, look at them. So many variations of green and blue it's not funny. That's why the orange trumps all, even if they only chose it because all the other colours were taken.

I'm trying to imagine just how stupid Ricky Ponting feels, but I cannot seem to accurately imagine the magnitude of it.

How I laughed

A distinct lack of postage today. Apologies for that, I had a long day in the office. Thankfully, tonight I head back to Sydney, escaping the bitter cold of Canberra for another few weeks. How I despise Winter.

There is one significant thing I'm going to mention, and that is Australia's exit from the World Twenty20. If that isn't the most hilarious thing to happen all tournament (perhaps even slighty funnier than England's loss to the Netherlands) I don't know what is. For all the time they spent not caring about Twenty20, Australia now look like a bunch of idiots. The equivalent of a team like Scotland.

To think that Australia are ranked number 1 in another form of the game.

And another thing. In the closing moments of the match, as Sri Lanka hit the winning runs, I could have sworn Ricky Ponting almost laughed. I would too if I were the captain of a shithouse team. Ajantha Mendis didn't even have to do all too much to make the Australians bow down to him.

Ireland are also in the Super Eights. This tournament is possibly the strangest thing to occur since glow-in-the-dark rabbits.

Ireland beating Bangladesh?

Come on, make it happen. Ireland's bowlers sure as fuck seem determined to do so.

70/5 and more than halfway through the match. Not a bad score if Bangladesh accelerate in the last 7 overs like a better team would, but you know... it's Bangladesh.

I can't say much though, because they've beaten bigger fish before.

The Blackcaps aren't as crazy as this

Or are they?

Michael Clarke Question of the Day

Yesterday's question attracted a lot of responses, including Stani starting his own competition within my competition. Yes, I saw that.

Anyway, as I said in the post, anyone can win. So everyone won. I know, I'm a cheat. Can't help it.

Today's QotD is one about numbers and figures:

Who was captaining the side against which Michael Clarke took 5 or more wickets in a single match? Also state the ground at which this occurred.

There you go, a nice statistical one to please experts of that sort. Ryan Campbell knows the answer to this one.

The Secret to Stuart Broad's Success

Any teams stupid enough to fear the might of his bowling will be thrilled to discover just what caused Broady to play so well all of a sudden against Pakistan.

I invite you to take a moment to guess.

Appropriate responses would include a tough work-out session in the nets, bowling at a brick wall non-stop for 7 hours a day since the loss to the Netherlands, a stern talking to by coach or by the captain.

Slightly less appropriate but still effective responses include being offered a pay rise in return for doing well in this match, daddy organising a visit from a few escorts (oh yes, escorts, they're top class these Broad boys), having his head bashed in by a rampant Andre Nel working for the ECB, or even having people finally accept that yes, Broady is a man. Just look at those manly golden locks.

Alright, you done? Good, because you should be. Because the secret to Stuart Broad's success is... Maccas. No, that is not some sort of dig at a night out with Andrew McDonald, I'm talking real food here. Says Colly when asked about Stuart's turnaround:

"I just took him for a burger."

Yes, he took him for a burger. Doesn't take much to please the young Broad, does it? If you doubt my claims he is a 9 year old, I hope this proves you wrong.

Ten bucks says it was a Happy Meal.

Vettori Blues

There's concern as to whether Dan Vettori will be fit in time for the match against South Africa tomorrow. He missed the Scotland one and New Zealand pulled through, but they're going to need him for this upcoming match if they stand any chance of going further.

Why oh why did he have to fall on his shoulder during practice? That just creates a whole lot of drama I don't like at all.

The thing is, New Zealand need Dan fit by Tuesday. And so do I. Because I just really need him to take die AB's wicket.

Flashback: Mitchell Johnson

Seeing as asking you guys to guess his age was not the brightest idea I've ever come up with, here's another funny photo of Mitch from his teen years, only this time I'll be supplying the date.

This is Mitch when he was named Sportsman of the Year at Pimlico State High School in 1998. Oh yeah:

Hahahahahahahaha. Dear me, isn't that a sight to see? He must be so glad he grew out of that look.

How KP saved England

Boy, they sure were glad to have him back. Well, him and Dimi and Graeme Swann. But KP's 58 off 38 balls gave them a shitload of confidence, and Adil Rashid coming on later also did a good job of containing runs.

Funnily enough, Stuart Broad didn't have all that bad of a match. In fact, I'd go so far as to say he had a good one. 3 wickets, lowest economy rate of England's bowlers, this:

I think he's pretty pleased with himself.

England are through to the Super Eights based on their NRR. The breathe a collective sigh of relief because they were so damn close to not making it that this escape from embarrassment will be more than well received. It was really a matter of one match that would have decided their fate. Nice compact format, this World T20.

There's a pretty funny photo of KP's dismissal:

Good one, Ajmal.

Die AB

I have no idea what you're talking about. The title of this post is merely written in Afrikaans. It translates to "The AB" as you are no doubt aware.

Why on earth would I want AB de Villiers to actually die? Is it the unbeaten 79 off 35 balls? The 75 not out off 35 balls? The 6 sixes? 5 fours? No, really, tell me exactly what it is that would make me WANT AB DE VILLIERS TO DIE.

Jesus. That's exactly the response he wanted to get out of me.

Don't mind me. I just haven't slept for 48 hours. I'm sure that's the only reason I'm feeling so STRANGE right now. Or wait, could it be AB downplaying the massive score of 211 his team posted? Could it?

In any tournament every team wants to develop the big ‘M’ – momentum – as soon as possible, and that’s exactly what we took from our opening match against Scotland at the Oval this afternoon.

The big 'M', huh? What's that, die AB? Are you English now? Fuck.

We respected the opposition, but managed to perform with a degree of intensity that ultimately earned a comfortable win.

YES, SO MUCH RESPECT THAT 75 WAS. SO VERY MUCH RESPECT. I'm so pleased you "managed" to perform with a degree of intensity that ultimately ensured a "comfortable" win. I wasn't quite sure you'd "manage" there. And gee, it was a tough one, wasn't it? That "comfortable" win didn't come by easily.

There were some nerves around the squad in the morning, but Graeme Smith and
Jacques Kallis established a fantastic platform at the top of our innings and the rest of us were able to take advantage and ensure we posted a decent score of 211.

DIE AB, DIE AB, DO YOU CALL 211 SIMPLY A "DECENT" SCORE? It's South Africa's largest T20 score to date. What a "decent" score.

I was pleased with my knock, and once again enjoyed batting at the Oval – it’s a great deck and an excellent outfield.

Yes, I do believe the outfield was instrumental in you scoring your very many sixes. The ball just RACED over the outfield, it practically flew. The fielders could do nothing about it. Well done, groundsmen. Well done on creating an outfield perfect for sixes.

So it was a pretty decent afternoon all around.

I HAVE NO WORDS.

I cannot even begin to explain why he irks me so. You might take the above comments to be gracious and respectful towards the opposition who SA absolutely smashed, but I know for certain that any other player on the team (except Jacques Kallis) would have put it in such a way which didn't downplay their own efforts to the extent that Scotland is practically ridiculed. It's all AB. Die AB, that AB, he's such a great sportsman.

Okay, it may be the lack of sleep making me this frantic. But damn, die AB pisses me off so fucking much I do not have words to explain it.

In the same match, Albie shared a sizeable partnership with die AB and ended up getting 24 from 14 balls, including two sixes. He was then caught by the best Scottish player on the side that day Kyle Coetzer, who also smashed Albie for two sixes and thus made him the most expensive South African bowler. Lucky he took two wickets.

Look, someone who doesn't piss me off. Hurrah.

Jacques Kallis made 48... from 41 balls. I'm just going to pretend that didn't happen.

Michael Clarke Question of the Day

Yesterday's question was taken out by both Q and Esra, with Q starting to creep up behind Esra in the rankings. Not that there are any. I'd also like to remind him it is not appropriate to slit Esra's throat in order to claim the prize of unimaginable glory and expertise.

...Just in case you were thinking of doing that, Q.

If you are not Q or Esra and you know the answer to the question, feel free to snatch the prize winnings off them. Today's question is specifically designed to test your knowledge of Michael Clarke in a way which does not require a knowledge of test figures or whatnot, but rather, you will be asked to provide your sound judgement on a photo of the man.

In other words, this is a dud question and everyone can win. The QotD:

Just how pathetic does Michael Clarke look in the following photo?

I hate to even look at it.

Obviously, if you answer "not very pathetic at all, but rather, a dashing fellow" you're not going to win. I am the judge after all. The best answer wins this one.

West Indies win

Good stuff.

Not much to say except after the innings Gayle and Fletcher had, everyone wanted the Windies to win this match.

But I do believe there should be more cricketers named Xavier. "X Marshall" is the best name on the scorecards from both of these teams. Maybe you could even change your last name to "Treem" or something. I don't know, just saying. The possibilities are endless. Isn't there a BMX rider who legally changed his name to Kamikaze? It's be just like that, only CRICKET.

I think I need some sleep. Well done to the West Indies. They beat the Aussies with 4 whole overs (and one ball) to spare. That's massive. They didn't play close to a quarter of the time the Australians did.

The crowd certainly thinks the Australian loss is very appropriate. Never have there been so many West Indian supporters in the same place, more than half not even having geographical ties to the Windies.

Australia are going to lose

To the West Indies. You would think there's something wrong in that statement, and under normal circumstances there damn well should be.

But fuck, the West Indies are batting awesomely. Those first 5 or 6 overs were like a goldmine, and the best kind too. A boundary was practically expected off each ball. Not to mention Chris Gayle's absolutely massive six.

A fever pitch crowd baying for Australian blood. Looks like that wish will come true if the Windies don't magically fuck everything up, which is looking pretty unlikely and besides, choking is what South Africans do best, not the West Indies. A win for them will also happen a lot sooner if Australia continue to bowl the same excruciatingly high number of wides and no balls.

Brett Lee goes into the record books for that over from hell, I believe. 27 runs off it, the 4th highest in T20 International history. He's also lost a bit of the ol' pace it seems. Mitchell Johnson fared no better and was brutally savaged by Gayle and Fletcher. Australia gave it all away in those first few overs.

Will Gayle get one of the fastest centuries ever?

A really shit pun

How do I even begin to explain just how bad this pun is? Found in a headline:

Peter Siddle can't wait to axe the part

It is, of course, referring to his background in woodchopping.

I know.

How old is Mitchell Johnson in this photo?

Can you guess it?

Ah, the look of youth and awkward gangly body parts which don't seem to fit together. And of fangs which will soon grow even bigger. Of looking like the check out kid at the local supermarket.

Just how old is Mitchell Johnson in this photo? I do know the answer, but I also thought I'd share the amusing photo.

Netherlands think they played "okay"

I'll bet even Collingwood gave them higher praise than that.

Determined not to rub the victory into England's faces, Netherlands captain Jeroen Smits tells reporters:

"We played okay. Batting wise we played up to our capabilities but fielding wise and bowling wise there is still room for improvement."

If I were captain of the Dutch side at the moment, I would just... you have no idea what I would be saying. England would be cringing more than ever. But Smits refrains. Go the Netherlands.

Now they're looking at qualifying for the Super Eights, and if possible, the semifinals. Awesome, you say? It is indeed.

Pakistan are going to be facing two teams determined not to lose to them. England, because if they were out of the tournament within 3 days it would be the greatest embarrassment ever suffered since the Stanford debacle, and the Netherlands, because they've taken time off work without pay, beaten the hosts, and now they bloody well want to get as far as possible in this tournament.

The Face Of A Very Competent Captain

"Hmmm," says Ricky as his team prepares for training. "Lovely day to play cricket, is it. Nestled safely on my head as always, my VB cap is. Going to win this tournament, we are. Yes, hmmm."

"Yoda, I am."

Michael Clarke Question of the Day

I didn't ask one yesterday, I know. Sorry about that, I just didn't have the time.

To make up for it, today's question comes in two parts. And the first person to get either question wins, so there might end up being 2 winners. And if you get them both right first up, well, there's only one winner.

Today's QotD goes back a while, but I'm sure you will know what it is. That's why the questions will be a little specific. Just before I begin, let it be known Ryan Campbell has absolutely no idea what the answer to this one is.

In the following photo, what is:

a) the name of the owner of the car, and;

b) the road and/or suburb in which it is taking place (either will do)

I'm hoping you know that's Pup in the pic.

Dhoni denies rift rumours, entire team in tow

On Friday, the entire Indian World T20 team turned up to a news conference and squash themselves onto the podium in order to deliver a one minute statement regarding the "unity" of the team.

The video is here. It is highly amusing. You can't help but feel that even the team members know just how ridiculous they look standing up there. Dhoni appears to be trying not to laugh before he begins a short statement denying rumours of a rift between him and Sehwag.

I wonder just how much attention this supposed rift has been receiving in India for the team to actually come out and deny it. And for management to cart everyone into a news conference specifically for this purpose.

Of utes and being sent home in disgrace

Bloody utes, they keep popping up everywhere. The new job's turning out to be a bit of a shocker, so apologies for the lack of posts. Just when I thought I'd dusted my hands of dealing with the aftermath of a particular issue, being a free ute that's causing the most controversy utes have been able to in the history of their existence, in comes the news that Andrew Symonds has returned to Brisbane today and left the airport... in a ute.

I can appreciate the irony.

Roy returned to Brisbane early this morning and was met by a host of reporters, all keen to ask him some questions about his fall from grace. He didn't answer any, but he did give a statement:

"I've got a fair bit to consider I suppose and I appreciate you all coming out here this morning and I will come out and make a proper full statement when I've gathered my thoughts and sat down with family and friends."

Queensland Cricket still want him to play for the Bulls. That's possibly the only positive in this situation.

This time Roy didn't complain about the lack of a car to pick him up from the airport as he did after returning from the IPL. He'd called ahead and gotten Joe Dawes to pick him up in his ute. Ah, the ute. The godforsaken ute I've had a tough time with. Cause for much worry and working into the night fielding calls left, right and centre. So this is how people deal with Canberra's lack of nightlife. They end up working through it.

In the meantime, we've learnt the violation of Symonds' contract was in regard to drinking in public and not informing team members or management where he was going before he headed out to watch the game. Over at The Times, David Fulton, former Kent captain, is lamenting the loss of Andrew Symonds. But then he describes him as Mick Dundee. Just as I thought Australia was beginning to brush off that image.

"We were only joking"

"Can't you take a bit of a joke, everyone?" asks Collingwood at the press conference after the shock loss to the Netherlands.

"We were just having a laugh," Broad tells reporters. "Jimmy thought it'd be funny to give the Dutch fellows a win and take it from there."

"Graeme and Kevin were at home blowing up party balloons to celebrate the planned loss to the Netherlands," Colly continues. "Straussy was over too. They were watching the match on telly and having a bit of a laugh."

"That expression on my face?" Stuart is surprised. "Oh, at the end? Which one was it again?" The reporters oblige him.

"Oh, that," Broad says as he views the photograph. "Completely planned."

Beside him, Collingwood nods. "Completely planned. Bring on the Pakistani boys, I say."

Stuart Broad tells the best joke ever heard to mankind

It's true, he does. In an interview with the Guardian, Stuart Broad gets his funny on. Take this hilarious joke for instance:

What's the name of the fastest cake?
Too late, it's scone.

Did you laugh? I did. I spent a good ten minutes laughing at the one. Good one, Broady! He's a riot, that boy.

He also likes bananas and has a rather creepy banana fetish, the details of which I won't go into. It is too disturbing.

Broad still has some genius left in him. He tries claiming he has hit puberty, but nobody believes him of course. Then comes the biggest shock. Not only is he physically doomed to be trapped in the body of a 9 year old, but he is also on a similar mental platform as a 9 year old:

What is the best sledge ever aimed at you?
I can never really explain what is going on when I'm getting sledged. So, I end up just nodding and smiling, which seems to annoy them more.

Jesus, no use trying to sledge the boy, it'll just go completely over the top of his head. To be honest, sometimes you can sympathise with him. Dale Steyn, who is not very well known for his sledging abilities, has had a crack at sending some comments down Broad's way. Here is the result, as dictated by Stuart:

Do you play dumb or does it come naturally? I think.... I mean, Dale Steyn just called me Baywatch for the whole series when we played against them [South Africa]. I didn't really know what he meant, it certainly wasn't for my strapping figure.

Hahahahaha, and with that, my friends, I leave you, although not to do anything particularly interesting. Canberra is a pretty boring place at night, I'm afraid. I know the locals like its... smallness, but damn, I wouldn't want to live here my whole life. It's good for occasional visits. Fingers crossed I don't have to start living here.

Now go watch some cricket.