A lot of people kill themselves over the holiday period.
That’s sad.
I’ve never understood why, it’s obvious that February is the month to kill yourself.
Personally, I’d prefer you didn’t kill yourself, as that would be one less reader.
So here is a photo of Graeme Smith celebrating winning a tournament to make you fell better.
Thanks to Dale Steyn for taking this picture and giving us this joy.
I could never try and pretend to be a South African, it would be like me trying to be religious, but I know the pain of constant losing in one particular tournament and I think if I was South African I’d feel roughly like this…
What is the fucken point of us playing in this tournament. What is ever our point as a cricket team in general. Every fucken time we just fold up like a plastic chair at even a hint of referred pressure. You can say we’ve been unlucky, you can say we’ve been cocky, you you can also say that our very existence is proof that humans are lucky to have thumbs because otherwise we’d all be crawling around in the mud grunting at each other. I can understand losing to a better team. I can even understand having the opposition just out play us on the other day. But we don’t need a fucken other team, we just need ourselves. New Zealand could have put out a whole team of cardboard cut outs and just waited for us to fuck up. I feel bad for New Zealand, because they might have been good enough on the day to beat us regardless, but it’s almost impossible to give them any real credit when we went we lost this game by simply turning up knowing it was a knock out match. Before today I would have liked to believe that the reason we had lost in the past might have stemmed from a belief that we couldn’t get to the top of world cricket. But we fucken did, we beat Australia at home, well before they really turned to shit, and even after some hiccups we were the number one ranked test side for a time. India are the number one test side in the world, and they can’t beat us in a test series. We should be cocky swinging motherfuckers who believe that nothing can stop us. We have the world’s best pace bowler and the world’s best wrist spinner, we have a statistical colossal all rounder, as good a batsman in world cricket opening up and our number four has the ability to do every but turn water into wine. Still we fuck up. Still we find a way to make ourselves the world’s laughing stock for the 6th cunting cock of a time. It’s fucking bullshit. It’s a fucking disgrace. And it’s all so fucking inevitable. Our cricket board’s twitter account was trying to make light of the c word. Fuck the C word. Don’t give me this C is for Champions bullshit. C is for fucking choke because everytime we end up in this fucking tournament we choke. We fucking choke. That is what we do. CHOke choke choke choke shocke chokec chokelks chokelmkwe CHOKE CHOKE CHOKEKKE. That is what C is for, that is what we did, and frankly fuck off to anyone who says next time that we aren’t chokers. We aren’t chokers in four years time when we win this tournament, until then we fucken are. Actually, fuck this tournament as well, it can choke on my fucken rage. Fuck this tournament, fuck the ICC, let’s just pull out. We don’t need this shit, we’re a proud people who has changed out nation more in the last few years than some countries have in hundreds of years. So fuck the ICC, fuck the world cup, and fuck our attempts at ever winning this. The world is a fucked up place and I hope that tomorrow the whole place gets smashed by an astroid and everyone on this planet s fucks off and dies.
Dedicated to Ant Sims.
How South Africa can win
It’s not impossible to mention the world cup without slipping in South Africa’s past; it’s just not that fun. Without South Africa failing it wouldn’t feel like such a special tournament. Everyone needs the Washington Generals. Their torment is part of the mystique; no one proves that World Cups are hard to win more than South Africa.
Every thing South Africa does is looked at through their comical history. It doesn’t mean they can’t win the world cup; it also doesn’t make it easier. If South Africa wins this tournament, their painful past will just make it sweeter.
Their big problem was obvious against England, the middle order was weak. Yet, with their top four all being cautious batsmen, they have the potential to cover over the cracks with careful batting.
While other teams can’t afford to bat in a one paced way and give up potential runs, South Africa have the best attack in the world cup. Their weakest bowler is Robin Petersen, and he doesn’t even have to be their fifth bowler. They could play Steyn, Morkel, Tsotsobe, Tahir, Kallis as the 5th bowler and Duminy as the 6th bowler, if they play slightly within themelves and don’t lose wickets.
With this line up they should be able to control the game and play decisive conservative balanced cautious pragmatic cricket, also known as the South African Way.
What South Africa must do
Keep Amla in his magical form.
How you can beat South Africa
Morne Morkel is mentally fragile, Imran Tahir can go for runs, Kallis doesn’t seem to like to bowl as much these days, Tsotsobe is hittable, Botha is easier to manoeuvre without a doosra and Robin Petersen is a bowler you can work over. Sure, I’ve just said above that their the best bowling attack in the tournament, but they’re really only fighting for that honour with Sri Lanka, so it doesn’t mean that much.
The attack is varied and talented, but take Dale Steyn out of it, and it has issues. The problem is taking him out of the attack without losing any wickets to him is not easy. If you don’t give him wickets, you can afford to go along at four an over against him. Against India, he took five wickets, you just can’t allow that. Without Tahir, and they may not play him, Steyn has to take wickets. Especially if they are batting slower to protect the middle order.
In 07, Australia let Kallis bat because he couldn’t score quick enough to hurt them. Now that system would play into their hands as their attack is better, and thanks to T20, Kallis has a fifth gear. To beat them you have to get out their top four. I know what you’re thinking, “Jrod, what a revolutionary game plan you’ve come up with, the first four wickets, genius”. The thing is, I don’t think their middle order has what it takes to post or chase a total if early wickets go down. They are capable of chipping in, like they did against India, but at the moment they don’t look like being part of anything substantial. You have to get through to them, so unless you want to off them in a comedy Springfield Isotopes way, I’d suggest wickets.
The most important thing is to never give up against them, distant and recent history show that you’re always a chance, no matter how over the game looks. However I’d suggest spending more time on working out how to beat Amla and Steyn, and less on working out who will pull a Donald.
What not to do against South Africa
Don’t mention the C word when facing Steyn.
Anytime South Africa lose in a world cup, the choking tag is used. Not to say they haven’t earned it, but it does get a bit much. And since I say it more than most, I know it’s a bit much.
So instead of deciding on whether South Africa choked or not, let’s pretend this was a match between Sri Lankan and England. Sri Lanka and South Africa have similar teams, both have essentially five front line bowlers, amazing top orders and their weakness seems to be the middle order.
If Sri Lanka had restricted England to 171, and then at the 30 over mark required 54 runs in 20 overs with seven wickets in hand, and lost, would you’d think Sri Lanka had choked?
Or that their middle order had simply not worked.
To me, there is a difference between a fragile middle order and a team who loses 7/41.
Sri Lanka’s chase was going along comfortable, they were above the run rate, had wickets in hand and their number five was finding it hard to score, but importantly still scoring at a rate that would ensure his team a victory.
Then they had a collapse, including a run out, and suddenly they had given England a sniff. This collapse was 4/3, and it hurt bad. It was panicky and ugly, but they fought back.
The game wasn’t over, and they edged their way up to the score with handy batting, yet again at a run rate that was enough to easily win them the match. This was a hard pitch to score on. When this 8th wicket partnership was together, four of their first five overs was from the fifth and sixth bowlers, who’d already bowled more than the 10 overs needed between them, and were now just taking overs away from the front line bowlers. The 8th wicket partnership had scored 33 runs in 9.2 overs, more than fast enough to get them to their total without needing risks.
Then they took the powerplay, and it was a mistake not to use it before the 30th over, a mistake that most teams would have made.
When the partnership was broken, all the tail needed to do was eek out another 12 runs from four overs with two wickets in hand. They’d built themselves into the second situation where they should have won the game. It wasn’t as rock tight as the first one, but with one half of the partnership well set, two wickets in hand, and a very gentle run rate to contend with, they should have won the game from there as well.
They didn’t.
Now, if this were Sri Lanka, and you saw the panicky dismissals and two sudden collapses from a team who were chasing 171 to win, I don’t think you’d be wrong to say that Sri Lanka had choked under the pressure.
Not everyone would say it. Some would point to the batting powerplay, Broad’s bowling at the death and middle order as reasons as well, but without the pressure of the chase getting to the batting team, there is no way they would have lost this game. England did not bowl unplayable balls, they did not even use their main bowlers enough, their fifth and sixth bowlers took 1/76 in 16 overs while the three pacemen couldn’t bowl out and took 7/58 from 20.4.
Any team losing from this position did so because of pressure. England played as well, you can’t lose from that position without your opposition playing well.
Now think about South Africa again, and the choke meter (it’s like the crowd cheering meter, it doesn’t really exist) goes off the chart.
Millions use the word choke, far more than is really needed for a group game that has little meaning for the standings of the tournament.
That doesn’t mean they didn’t choke.
For South Africa to win the world cup from here would be one of the best performances in any world cup ever. They have to beat the tag, their own insecurities and their middle order whilst taking on the opposition.
They might not choke again in this tournament, they also probably can’t win it now.
I’ve been waiting since 2008 for my Imran Tahir love to be shared with the world.
The world has gone through a brutal legspin drought. There’s Cremer, Smith, Rashid, Chawla, Mishra and Danish who all front up at times, but none of them are really taking the world by storm, or even by much more than drizzle.
As a man who fetishes legspin like nothing else, it’s been a lean era.
If it were not for the warm, fuzzy and then utterly violent Bryce McGain story and Imran Tahir I’d have left this world a few years back.
When I asked for world sides or who my favourite spinner was Tahir was who I picked.
It was more than the alice band, highlights, brilliant celebrating and journeyman status, Tahir can bowl.
And it isn’t some pseudo legspin straight breaks that you can only go out to through trying to hit them repeatedly out the ground, it’s proper out the back of the hand lepsin dark arts.
There’s wrong’uns, half trackers, flippers, full tosses and that awesome Pakistani legspin energy through the crease that makes them look like Cocained Disney characters.
What’s not to like?
That his first game for a world wide audience ended in four wickets doesn’t justify my love for him, I probably would have felt the same if he couldn’t land the ball and was only given three ropey overs
The man is a proper legspinner, and whether he lives or dies in this world cup, I’m just glad to see one around.
To me he feels like cricket.
Although, like most, I did gag when he kissed his badge, which is now the ultimate sporting auto-fellatio.
Tahir should stick to wrist action, it’s what he’s best at.
At the moment, I have no access to Herschelle Gibbs’ book. But I assume it goes something like this.
On women:
“I’ve always respected women. When I’m in an orgy, I am constantly asking a woman if she is feeling ok, whether there is anything I can do to make her feel more comfortable. I’ve gone as far as paying for their taxi on the way home. You see, it doesn’t take much to treat a woman right after she’s let you cum in her ass and let her friend felch it out. Just a bit of respect. ”
On match fixing:
“To be honest, I’ve forgotten all the details.”
On the South African clique:
“One day I was pissed out of my mind, so I thought it would be cool to ask Graeme and Mark if I could join the leadership group. They said I had to go through an initiation. I thought it’d be fun, like paddles and shit. It started with me holding these two metal things E-somethings, and then they all yelled at me, pointing out all the mistakes I’d made, like not buying a copy of AB’s album, it took forever. The next part was me being locked in a room while they treated me like a dog. It was ok, until Jacque put a collar on me. That was weird. But then they asked me to watch Battlefield Earth, that film is seriously shit, so I decided to just forget about it”.
On drugs:
“I’ve tried buzz, scag, woop, pla, e, weed, 7, acid, purple drank, shrooms, s, charlie, ploppa, angel, sunshine, pebbles, kicker and zoom. Not all at once. That is an important lesson for all kids out there.”
On Jacques Kallis:
“I once saw him eat a live dog. He didn’t even shave it.“
On Hansie:
“I think he was the biggest influence on my life. Without him, I don’t know where I’d be. He was just the perfect specimen of manliness, sort of like Steve McQueen, but cooler. He wore the best leather jackets too. People may not like him, but you can’t deny what a great man he was for South African cricket. Sometimes when Graeme is yelling at us, I close my eyes and dream of Hansie. I always feel better afterwards.”
On Paul Harris:
“Who?”
The bio for AB de Villier’s latest song says, “It’s no secret that sports and music are a perfect match”. Isn’t it? Now I feel out of the loop.
So I watched AB’s song to see this sporting musical symmetry that AB hinted at with “show them who you are”.
I’m not going to take you through the whole video, it speaks for it self. Yes it is in Afrikaans, but if you can’t get the song’s message with the subtle video only, they’ve failed in their efforts to be as didactic as possible.
What I want to talk about is not the uplifting message of the song, nor do I want to talk about the effect of when Ampie Du Preez morphs out of AB, even the passing the digital fire scene can be ignored and I’ll even overlook Francoise Du Plessis cameo.
No, what I want to talk about happens at the 34 second mark of the video, and it may be the creepiest thing to ever happen in a soft cock uplifting pseudo chrisitan cricket music video ever.
AB puts a stethoscope on the kid’s neck, the end of the Stethoscope goes straight down the pants* of AB de Villiers.
you're going to grow up nice
what do you hear?
His genitals must be magical though, as that kid grows up to be a doctor.
There is almost nothing missing from this music video; gender stereotyping, creepy interplay with children, Francois Du Plessis, Christian imagery, suicide, soft rock angst, hope, American footballs, slow motion running, rocking out in a mist, wow, it really does have everything.
When people ask is there nothing AB de Villiers can do, we now know the answer is no.
*The stethoscope actually goes into his pocket, but considering the often creep nature of this video, they should have used another pocket.
Thanks to the kind folks at SA cricket blog for showing us this gem.
I get it, man. You aren’t the first person to find their life in complete shit and think that the easiest thing to do is suicide.
I’ve been there too. It is shit, and once the darkness comes around it can be a hard thing to look past. It gets in your mind and makes you think that there is only one way out, a simple clean solution that will end all the shit.
It does pass.
Obviously, I’ve never been involved in a public love scandal, or for that matter, a private one, so I’ll never know what it is like to be taken through the public ringer. That said, everything passes. The good and the bad.
This I have lived through, so if this news of your attempted suicide is for real, you need to think again.
Mistakes are to learn from, not to run from. I’ve made a lot of them, but you get through it, and things are ok. Not always great, but life isn’t a hallmark card, shit happens.
Cricket doesn’t need another player dead from his own hand.
And your soon to be born child will definitely need you.
Where you put your penis matters little to me as long as you stop short of the underage or animals. That is for you and your family. Your penis, as impressive as it may be, is no concern of mine.
I didn’t like your cricket because I assumed you were fidelity minded.
I liked it because you tried really hard. You showed more effort than an entire generation of South Africans before you. Every ball was a battle, every moment was important, and yet you still enjoyed yourself. A crazy fucked up clown who could bowl for hours on end on the worst of days. I, and more than a few others, loved it.
People like me equate cricket and life far too much, so I don’t see how someone who could bowl so many tough spells into the wind on flat tracks with a cheeky grin could then give up outside of cricket. How can you be tough in front of millions, and fragile when on your own?
That is, ofcourse, complete bullshit. Being tough on a cricket field has nothing to do with real life. It is a shame though, because if you could reach any of that strength you showed on a cricket field I doubt you’d be where you are now.
Like you, I do know what it is like to run out of options, to feel like everything you have done is one big mistake, like you are cursed into stupid actions, to feel like there is only one solution, and that no matter how bad suicide is, that it will somehow erase everything before it. That moment where hope of life ever getting better just doesn’t seem possible.
I’ve had moments where I’ve considered it, planned it, been seconds from doing it, but I’ve always stopped.
Not because I think suicide is wrong, or the easy option, or the selfish one, or even because my family would have been upset, but because suicide is just shit.
Sure, I get it for paedophiles, murderers, and poets trying to get famous.
For regular people, with regular problems (getting caught with your dick in the cookie jar is a pretty normal problem), suicide is a massive overreaction.
And a waste of time.
Sure your cricket career is almost over, and your marriage might never be saved, that is all shit, life doesn’t stop though, even if you stop your own.
You might find you have skill in acting (Gunter was one hell of a performance), you might write a book or host a radio show that brings people pleasure, hell, you might just become a property developer who donates money to charity or enjoy watching Julia Roberts’ films. Anything is possible.
Had I quit life I would never have started cwb, got a wife, seen Donnie Darko, or experienced Sehwag make a 99* not out in Dambulla.
I can only speak for myself, Andre, but I think you can do better than suicide.
While many talk about the speed and swing that Dale Steyn bring to the game that make him the world’s most destructive bowler, I can’t look past his upper lip. Even when Steyn has shaved in the morning, by lunch he seems to have a shadow on the lip. A thick shadow. It hypnotises me, drawing me in when others may be focusing on cricket. What could he be if he just let that moustache grow? Until he grows that tache, I can’t really judge him as a player. Dale Steyn probably deserves a better profile than this.
No player is more like a reliable station wagon than Mark Boucher. Holds the records for the most dismissals as a wicket keeper in test cricket. Has done this without being a particularly great wicket keeper. He is also not much of a batsman. Yet there he is, behind the stumps, being all Boucher like. Plucky, game, in for a scrap and more likeable than the whole team combined. He is one hell of a cliche generator. Right now I want to call him someone I would go to war with. I’d love to hate him, but he just seems to ballsy. If you were picking a cricketer to date your sister, you could do worse than Boucher. His friendship to Kallis has been ignored for this profile.
