First I go to play cricket with Jrod and Suave and our side gets spanked like a recalcitrant schoolgirl (It pains me to report that the former was the star performer for our side, top scoring with the bat and picking up two wickets with his dibbly dobbly, Chris Harris-esque, medium pace – including a catch off his own bowling where he fell to the ground like a drop bear. Suave, on the other hand, appears to have the safest hands in England right now and would probably be in the England side, except that anything new entering the dressing room is apparently being eaten by Owais Shah).
Then England stuff up the ODI at the Rose Bowl in entirely predictable fashion.
But the worst part of the whole bloody day was being stuck in a car listening to Jeff ‘Thommo’ Thomson try and commentate. Great bowler he may have been, and he does a nice line as a talking head in documentaries, but screw me, the guy makes Joe Sayers seem like the wittiest man on the planet. Every time he tried to crack a joke, he either f*cked it up or somehow contrived to make it hideously unfunny. It was simply excruciating listening. If I didn’t know better than to write potentially libellous things on the internet, I would suggest that he had been drinking since about 1pm.
I can take the losses. I can take being outperformed by Jrod. I can even take the continued presence of Owais Shah in an England kit. But please, no more Thommo. Ever.
