The problem with running the country with an iron wrist, acid tongue and purposefully cropped three-day growth, is that people expect you to get results.
For a normal dictator that is annexing an island or stealing the mascot of your neighbour, for a cricket dictator who selects the team, coach, and selectors while designing the team shirt, making sure Jesse is locked to his bed and that Adam Parore doesn’t slate him daily it’s getting wins on the board.
Like most Dictators, Dan Vettori took on too much.
Vettori was right to rename Tuesday Vettoriday, set the record straight on gay players, cut the team’s oranges, start wearing a leopard skin fez and rewriting the bible to make Jesus a left arm finger spinner who makes more runs than you’d expect from someone of his stylistic devoid play.
The problem is that while he was doing these important things, others were scheming.
If Shakespeare has taught us little more than to kill yourself before you check your partner’s pulse, it’s shown us that people scheme to get power.
I can imagine it now, while Dan Vettori was hosting a benefit party for Scott Stryis’ thighs, Greatbatch (his ally) and Wright (the mercenary) were hatching a plot. I can see them cackling as Wright stirred a big pot of L&P and Greatbatch ate his fush and chup pavlova.
Poor Dan, just trying to rule in a pseudo-benevolent manner so his country had a chance, was shot down in cold blood.
No longer the defacto coach, no longer a selector at all, now just a normal captain who has to do nothing other than play, train, travel and say clichés.
How the mightily organised and overworked have fallen.
Justin Vaughan is yet to release a statement about this change in supreme leader, only because he is too busy cleaning out the blood from Vettori’s whites.
Alas, poor Dan! I knew him, Justin.
