Tagged with jacob oram

I believe i can fly, or sleep with underage girls and get away with it

Shane Watson believes Australia can chase 430.

Ian Smith believes Jacob Oram will be the key.

Some people believe Jesus was an alien.

Some people believe margarine is an aphrodisiac.

No one is saying they are wrong.

Well they are, but that doesn’t make them wrong.

They probably are.

But, you know.

Australia can chase 430, even 500.

Just most of us believe they can’t catch it.

Oram could be the key, but Taylor, Ryder, McCullum and Vettori are probably more important.

But belief is a fucked up thing.

Shane Watson really believes Australia can win from anywhere, and that is a good thing.

Australia are probably more likely to win from this position than most teams, but with this team, at this time, we can’t see it.

Watson can.

The question is when Australia lose by 200 runs, will he keep the belief.

Probably, because belief is like that, it’s odd and defies logic.

Sort of like Watson’s career.

That brings us to Oram & Smith.

On paper if Jacob Oram is the key, New Zealand are fucked.

But Ian Smith believes in Jacob Oram.

As a man, as a lover, as a soulmate and as a centrefold.

Smithy’s belief is different than Watson’s.

His is because of deep seated love for the perfect boyfriend from Chennai.

Smithy knows Oram, maybe not biblically, not yet, but he as a connection with the man, on a spiritual level that most people never ever attain.

They are like two buffalos running in the wild, frolicking, dancing, and being merry.

And when Oram is ready to ‘peak’ Smithy believes he can feel that.

Who are we to argue, or poke fun at it.
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The dark knight – a pitch report

If you wanna see Batman, and know nothing about the film when you go in, this may not be the cricket blog to be reading today.

It has mild plot spoilers.

The dark knight starts off with the Joker, who resembles what I hope Gunther would look like, having a little moment.

Then there is a bit of batman, who is like Freddy, really cool, but a lot of damage just below the mask.

Scarecrow is there for a second, but like Asif, he disappears quickly.

The batman meets up with his ex Rachel Dawes, who looks a bit like Nathan Bracken, and some dude named Harvey Dent.

Dent’s a little Jacob Oram, if you get my drift.

Every now and then we see Lt Gordon, who gets the job done, but is pretty boring, like Mike Hussey.

There are mob bosses, one who reminds me of Graeme Smith, and a bank manager who shares similar traits with Mahela.

Gunther gets off to a flier, Freddy thinks he has him reigned in, especially with a few short ones, but Gunther is two steps ahead.

Jacob Oram takes over the attack for a while, he goes for line and length, it doesn’t work and Bracken has plenty of advice for everyone.

M Hussey comes into the attack, but that doesn’t end well and Freddy has come to come back on.

While this is happening Jacob Oram forgets about bowling and goes and puts his pads on.

Mahela and Smithy are pretty much ignored.

Predictably things go to shit, Gunther is way crazier than Freddy could ever understand, Freddy is in love with Bracken who is in love with Oram (still the bowling one), M Hussey runs into mischief and Graeme Smith does an amazing imitation of Eric Roberts.

Eventually Freddy has to get fit.

Jacob puts his pads on.

And

Gunther is one crazy mother fucker.

Best game I’ve seen this year.

Gunther plays a blinder in his retirement year.

Worth going to all 5 days.

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The problem with Prince Brendan

I love McCullum.

Not in a metrosexual “I wanna have his tattoos” kinda way.

Or in an “I wonder what his semen tastes like” kinda way.

But as a batsman, an entertainer and an artist, I love him.

I think I said

Watching him is like watching two people have sex in a car crash, there are so many ways it can go wrong, but somehow everyone walks away fine, and you can’t believe what you’ve seen.

But the problem with my McCullum love, is that when he goes out, I seem to lose all interest in New Zealand.

As a cricket team, a country, an Island and as a people.

They just fade away.

It’s like when there is a group of friends in a bar. At the time you are nice to all of them, but you only have your eye on one. Once that one gets sick of your piss and vinegar seduction style and tells you to trot off, you don’t move onto the next friend, you find a new group of friends to hit on, or go home and look up porn.

Or if you get lucky, you take that one home and forget about the friends, but secretly wish one of the friends would have come back so you could see what kind of partnership they would put on.

When McCullum is up and about, you could watch him bat with anyone, even Aaron Redmund, but once he is gone even Ross Taylor doesn’t get you excited.

And it’s a hard act to make Ross Taylor platonic.

When I still wrote off McCullum as an accumulator of 30 odds, Taylor was my favourite kiwi.

Now he fades into beige at the mere mention of McCullum.

I was also a big fan of the perfect boyfriend Jacob Oram.

I liked his lusty big hits, and even ignored his delicate bowling.

Now though, all I see in him is a dude who can’t play short pitch bowling and who falls apart like a piece of origami that’s been pissed on.

So with all that in mind, I am going to watch Battle Royale, as only Battle Royale can give me the sort of violent art that Prince Brendan robbed me of by nicking a wide.

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Oram provides bottle rockets, Sidebottom takes away Jimmy’s candy

The important thing is the England won.

Everything else means little.

I am talking to James Anderson ofcourse, the man who couldn’t take 3 wickets in the second dig to get a 10 wicket haul.

Diddums.

Sidebottom the stroppy cleaned up nicely.

He was probably getting a bit bemused with Anderson taking all the wickets now that he is the unquestioned main man of the crease.

Although even he couldn’t get Oram out.

Oram, who had been told by daddy (smith) that he had to learn how to play short pitched bowling, did so by swinging at a bunch of shirt balls.

I am sure there are some who will think he has slayed the dragon, but in truth the pitch was a bit slow and he was in one day mode, the real test is when he comes in on a quick pitch in tricky situations.

Hopkins and Brace’s wicket keeping gamble didn’t really pay off.

Prince Brendan failed in the only important innings, and didn’t look like a test number 3.

Hopkins made 27 off 116 balls for the match.

James Marshall probably could have done that.

New Zealand go down 2 zip, and probably will feel cheated by their overall crapness.

England are up and singing, and will get a wake up call at 150 clicks per hour from Dale Steyn.

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Is short bowling the new black

In the last 2 days I have seen batsman worked over.

Somehow I missed Daniel Flynn and his teeth defence.

But I did see Runako Morton and Jacob Oram have to play long spells from their throats.

And isn’t it good to see.

Morton and Oram dispatch anything full, they are brutal with full balls.

But drop the ball in short, aim at their throats, and they turn into little bunny rabbits.

England don’t have any out and out quicks, but that didn’t stop their male models and the cover band drummer attacking Oram repeatedly.

And boy did he look dodgy.

You would hardly believe he was the same man who smoted the Poms a week earlier.

He is not the first tall batsman to look dodgy against the short stuff, but it’s nice to knwo he is human.

Runako smokes balls that are full, when he hits them, but with Brett Lee working him over, his elbow looked to get more work than his bat.

It seems odd to see a West Indian batsman get worked over by the short ball so well.

They only reason he didn’t go out to it was dumb luck.

The way both of these boys played the short ball, they both better get used to facing it.

And I can’t wait to see it.

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built like adonis, tastes like sugar and food colouring

Freddy Flintoff, built like a rugby player, bowls like a superstar, bats like a rugby player.

Matthew Hayden, built like a Frank Miller character, bats like a Frank Miller anti hero.

Shane Watson, built like a Calvin Klein model, plays like a Calvin Klein model.

Jacob Oram, built like the perfect boyfriend, bats like an axeman, bowls like a ballerina.

What do all these players have in common, other than they are the male equivalent of amazonian women.

That’s right my intelligent regular reader, they are all jelly bean players.

A jelly bean player is built like tarzan, and plays like Shane (Watson).

The ohysio know their moles by touch.

Ice baths are how they relax.

And they some times have relapses from injury.

They are too athletic, too muscular, and too fit to play International cricket.

Cricket is the place for the over weight.

The dreadfully skinny.

The normal sized, with large behinds.

These are the ideal sizes for cricketers.

Someone fit, strong and healthy, is just testing fate by playing cricket.

All these players have had a terrible recent run with injuries, because they are not made for this world.

Freddy should be a pack scrum forward 5/8th type guy.

Hayden should be clubbing seals in Alaska.

Shane should be stripping naked for photo shoots, more often.

And Oram should take his rightful place as the thinking woman’s Fabio.

Cricket is tough on fit men.


(big thanks to Mel for the picture)

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Ian Smith on Jacob Oram

“He won’t be too stiff after that one(beating Vaughn, as if that’s hard), he’ll be excited”

To that I say, what is the point in being excited if you are not stiff?

But me thinks that after Jacob got Strauss out, Ian was stiff enough for every Kiwi.

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the perfect boyfriends perfect shot

One day cricket is not really my bag.

I’m not a cricket elitist, I like slogging and yorkers, I just don’t like the middle bit where guys like Bevan, Harris and Chandrepaul bat for their livelihoods.

Then the perfect Boyfriend Oram does something that reminds me of the wonders of one day cricket.

He hits a six over point of a near yorker.

Writing it down does not do it justice.

The shot was so sexy that Simon Doull had to call for the jizz mopper to come in and clean the booth just so he could see the action again.

Ian Smith is now just a shell of a man, he has no internal juices left.

In some ways the shot was lessened, it was hit off a English medium pacer, on a postage stamp, from a free hit ball, but the serious awesomeness of a square drive off a near yorker for six over rides all other factors.

You all know I love Oram batting, but this shot would convert baseballers to cricket, Muslims to Scientologoly, and Bob Dylanites to Britney.

If this shot was a sexuality, you’d want to try it.

Wow my screen is covered with something, will have to get Ian Smiths jizz mopper in here as well.

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pretty boys

The team at Sportsfreak have had it with narcissistic cricketers.

Here is there story.

Boom Boom.

In the 1980s, the UK based fanzine (remember them?) ran a regular series called “Medallion Men”. This was devoted to players, not always of world-class, whose main claim to fame was in drawing attention to themselves by wearing ridiculous large medallions; often more than one. The general feeling was that these people backed themselves a bit. Phil DeFreitas was their ultimate Medallion Man.

Well fashion moves on. Yesterday’s medallions have been upstaged by today’s multi-coloured highlights, Alice bands, and body piercing. Today’s international cricketers vie with professional footballers in having a level of vanity matched only by a lack of taste. We list the leaders in this revolution.

10. Ryan Sidebottom

Unique in this list in that his mirror-staring is based on an image that is at least 20 years out of date. While retro may be in at the moment, was Michael Bolton ever worth imitating? However, the self-important flicking of the head to get rid of the permed locks from his face does add good comedy value.

9. Brendon McCullum

The man of the future. Not only does he sport a nice range of hair tint, but he also has a stamp album’s worth of tattoos adorning his body.

This is something typically reserved for rugby players; either code, but normally Polynesian; Baz has clearly decided that it is high time for cricket to catch up. Watch this space in 2010.

8. Brett Lee

Admittedly, he could be worse, and on the field is less image conscious than he was a few years ago. But anyone who has ever seen the Bolywood pop song will understand why he is on this list.

7. Jacob Oram

Is this some weird backlash to growing up in Palmerston North; a mini-city that is still waiting for the Beatles to arrive? But it is almost impossible why a The Perfect Boyfriend should first grow some queer mod mop, and then go through most shades of gold in his hair. Perhaps it’s just a throwback to his footballing past.

6. Lasith Malinga

If this guy had spent as much time watching his action in the mirror rather than his hair his action would be very different.

A perm and a dye all on the same head is quite special; but fast bowlers should not need to look like that to be scary.

5. Andrew Symonds

Another Englishman makes the list, and no explanation is required.

4. Kevin Pietersen

Where do you start? Lets start with the Beckham-like 3 Lions tattoo on the shoulder. Only a South African would be stupid enough to overlook the ugly hooligan images that one conjures up.

Then there is the skunk phase; followed by the current patchy skinhead look. None of them work, and neither does the ear-ring in every orifice routine. How does this guy get through airports?

3. Chris Gayle
Of all the players on this list, the attention to detail in working on his image while out there playing can get in the way of his performance. It’s bowling while making sure your head stays still so those sunglasses don’t fall off. And standing for 5 minutes on end with your hands in pockets may be dead cool, but it makes slip catching a bit difficult.

Way too much bling too, and a lot of it looks uncomfortable.

2. Stuart Broad

This one has come from nowhere. Son of a true Medallion Man, perhaps it should come as no huge surprise. But the main impact so far in career has been more from his striking hairstyle than performances on the field.

Although he bowls at a pace that may make him a test player one day, it is no surprise he has shone in the ODI format. This is probably due to the fact that it involves playing under lights. The kaleidoscope of colours his hair goes through as the lights take effect is pretty unpleasant. And the darkness around the eyes is just plain wrong.

1. Nathan Brackan

This guy looks so bad that even Chelsea would not employ him. During the length of this column Sportsfreak has been very careful not to stray into homophobia territory, but it is impossible to describe Bracken without going there.

He looks like the transvestite off Silence of the Lambs, and the deteriorating nature of his campness is the over-riding impression. Note how Harbidjan has never dared pat him on the botty.

Note There are a lot of fast bowlers in this list.

Ganguly, Michael Clarke, Shane Watson, Herschelle Gibbs, and Shoaib Akhtar were considered for this list but rejected due to the fact that their major reasons for ridicule lie elsewhere.

Scott Styris was similarly rejected.

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The Perfect Boyfriend


Women are weird, no doubt. They are harder to work out than HTML codes and what shoes are cool right now.

In my travels I have met a lot of them, mostly through rejections, and I have come to learn some things about them.

A great deal of women, which is now know as a vajority, want a man who can protect them from the elements, while being gentle in those quieter moments on the couch.

This is obviously not all women, as the woman who repeatedly asked me to choke her wasn’t so much into gentleness, but for the purpose of this post let’s pretend its all women.

A female friend of mine said her experience had taught her that all women (not all, some, a vajority perhaps) want a man who can be hard on the outside and soft on the inside.

Unfortunately for me, I’m soft on the outside and hard on the inside.

But Jacob Oram is hard on the outside and soft on the inside.

Let me explain this.

He bats like John McLane would. It isn’t always pretty, there are some moments you aren’t sure he is going to make it, he ends up battered and bruised, but by the end he has slayed the bad guys and kept us entertained.

When he bowls he shows a feminine side not many men his size can project. He trundles in like some sort of Oprah bowler, which is much different than being a Jerry Springer bowler like Andre Nel or Sreesanth.

This is what makes him the perfect boyfriend.

To his mates he shows a tough guy demeanour, slogging the ball out of the park and carrying his decrepit team mates on his back through another collapse. The sort of guy who would defend a ladies honour with a bloody bar fight.

But after the bar fight, as the lady, whose honour is intact, is stitching him back up, he shows his sensitive side as the alcohol and needles cause him to flinch and open up about past loves and scars that show just a hint of melancholy below his rock hard exterior.

Then they make sweet sweet love. He is gentle and giving, but as much as she enjoys it, some deep primal urge wishes that he would just rip her clothes off and make love to her in the wild abandon that he showed in the bar.

Unfortunately for her (NZ), all his anger is reserved for bar room brawls (batting) and cannot be used in the making of love (bowling)

Ok so maybe not the perfect boyfriend then, but I bet he remembers her birthday.

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