Tagged with windies

explaining the west indies squad

Annoyed by the fact that the West Indies have to tour England in Winter for a T20 TV contract series, the West Indies selectors have made up cricketers that will be touring.

These players don’t exist, and there will be no tour, it’s just a trick so that by the time Sky notice it will be too late and they’ll be forced to call off the whole thing.

It’s a genius move by the WICB, who are not known for genius, or even moderate intelligence.

To make it feel more real, they have even thrown in a few real names like DJ Sammy, Marlon Samuels, CWB’s Andrew Russell and Dwayne Smith.

But most of this squad is clearly made up names.

For instance, Nkruma Bonner might be listed as a leg spinner, but Nkruma was the code name for a Kazakhstan oil refinery, and Bonner is an American oil company.

It  goes on.

Johnson Charles was the name of the alter ego of Perry Mason in the first pornographic lawyer flicks.

It’s also quite obvious that Miles Bascombe is a paid for advertisement of the Bascombe road works company.

Derwin Christian was the original suspect in the assassination of Tupac.

Krishmar Santokie; a prototype Indian/Japanese whisky.

Ashley Nurse is a unimaginative stripper name.

The Danza Hyatt is the latest theme hotel in Vegas, based on legendary who’s the boss star Tony Danza.

And Christopher Barnwell was the original name of Winnie the Pooh’s lover.

Originally in the squad were Nixon McClean and Chadwick Walton, but on further inspection both were names of real cricketers.

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We are the West Indies – these are our pretty titties

The WICB is the least professional of the top 8 cricket boards.

Their players are revolting, they use their money for burger king, there first class system is a joke and key players pay their own physio bills.

But, look at these tits bouncing around, nothing says cricket like a pair of gyrating breasts next to a man who is wearing the WICB logo that you can barely see.

It seems that at one crucial artistic meeting someone forgot to say, “Hey, um, is it just me, or have we taken all the cricket out of this cricket video, surely instead of playing the drums we can get someone playing DJ Sammy’s head, or you know, someone playing cricket”. Alas, everyone was already too busy eating burger king and doing coke to notice.

Instead what we have is a fairly well made music video that references the West Indies a lot, but shows us portly men with body paint on, shiny people, dancing women and a dude with a paper mache green costume jumping.

There three very short shots of people watching the cricket on TV.

Oh, and what is with the dudes coming out of the TV like some Japanese horror film? Is that a reference to Jeffrey Dujon’s commentary style?

It’s a lovely effort, and the song is so catchy that you’ll be singing it to yourself while you’re on the train, but you know, what the fuck is it?

If it’s a music video, its ok, if it’s a cricket music video it’s lacking the cricket.

At the very least they could have had the stanford singers in there.

And was that Julian Hunte in the horse’s head costume at the end?

I don’t really understand this, but I can’t look away. Neither can TCWJ, who found it for me.

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The global legspin conspiracy

VVS Laxman knows some shit.

He knows where Jimmy Hoffa is.

Can explain the UFO sightings over London on the 24th of June.

Is an expert on the differences between butter and I can’t believe it’s not butter.

Knows why the chemical compound of blu tack can kill you.

And can explain to anyone exactly how the Keys of Enoch work.

The VVS is basically cricket’s smoking man.

He’s seen it all, knows it all, and he’s always just one step ahead of you without making a fuss about it.

If you want to know the secrets of the inside out cover drive from the foot marks outside leg stump, he has them. But do you really want to know them, I mean, can you handle that kind of truth at 230 am in a freezing cold car park. No.

So VVS just travels the world, gathering more information that would blow most of our minds, and looks middle aged cool whilst doing so.

Because of all this knowledge you don’t expect him to make mistakes.

And today, he didn’t.

It wasn’t a mistake that made him leave a ball from the seemingly fucken rubbish bowling of Shiv with his foot out of the crease.

That was a conspiracy.

VVS knows too much, and to keep him in his place Mossad, iJazz Butt, the CIA and Ben from Ben & Jerry teamed up with Shiv to concoct an elaborate plan to embarrass him so that if he does ever speak up, they can point to this one moment and say, “Are you really going to believe a man who went out stumped leaving the ball from someone with 8 previous test wickets in 133 Tests.”

And all of us on our couches will agree that VVS is in fact not a trustworthy place to get our information from.

It’s actually the only plausible explanation. I mean no one is going to believe that someone as casually awesome as VVS would just not know he was out of crease, I mean that is mental.

And I don’t believe it could have happened without some sort of conspiracy, or legspin.

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andre the russell

There is something about Andre Russell, and yesterday just reminded me of it. If you are still undecided about him, I put a list together of Andre’s awesomeness.

Andre has a mohawk, well its more like a modern style fashionable mohawk, but it’s definitely not a fauxhawk, at worst it is mohawklite, which is still pretty cool.

This mohawklite glistens amazingly well when he is bowling.

Andre is W less. Andrew Russell would be a rubbish name for a big hitting all rounder.

He seems to actually like playing cricket, .

Wears a silver necklace, not a gold one, it makes all the difference.

Is athletic and keen in the field, moves to the ball like someone who was invented for the purpose.

When he has a good game, it’s hide your kids, hide your wife good. He doesn’t just burn your house down, he cluster bombs every house in your neighbourhood, releases a pathogen in your city and then goes house to house with a gas mask on with a home made ax to hack up any survivors (before taking a break and watching his team mates help save the city and rebuild the houses).

Sometimes pretends to be pulling out of a ball only to then go through with it, it’s a Keyser Soze delivery.

Clicks his heals together after taking a catch.

Has the highest score ever made in an ODI batting at 9.

Bowls really well to left handers, sure its becuase he falls over at the crease, but there are a lot of left handers in the world for him to fall over for.

When he hits the ball, it stays hit. Unlike other cricketers, who hit the ball but after a while the ball just stops being hit. When Andre hits the ball it stays hit forever.

Is cricket with balls own.

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A terrible pitch in Guyana

According to some reports the pitch in Guyana was the worst PR for Guyana since the Jonestown massacres.

People start lining up to drink the koolaid.

“Yes, it was a close match, but what a disgusting pitch”

“Low and filthy, the curator should be gunned down on an airplane.”

“Batsmen just didn’t get a fair go, it’s disgusting to think this was a test match pitch”.

You know, and other bollocks like that.

Fuck all that. The Guyana pitch was a proper test pitch, it was tough to get runs on, you had to earn everything, and even wickets didn’t always come easy.

Tailenders were the hardest to get out in this match, the Windies had a 50 run partnership for the tenth wicket in the third innings.  That’s not a terrible pitch, that’s a tricky pitch.

Two teams with limited talent and questionable professionalism just slogged it out.

It wasn’t a heavy weight contest, it was two fat guys mud wrestling after a night on the piss.

It was a contest.  On the last day of the test both teams could have won. It was low down and dirty right until Umar Akmal went out.

Both teams were scrappy, it was a test you try and survive as much as win.

It wasn’t always pretty, and there were few maximums or breath taking cover drives, but it had spirit this test.

And some of that has to go to this gutter crawling bastard of a pitch, who may look like an ugly bastard you wouldn’t wanna cross at midnight, but was actually the kind of salt of the earth kind of pitch that other pitches should try and emulate.

Test cricket should be hard, and not just on bowlers.

The ICC shouldn’t send any congressmen to check on this pitch, the bastard is tough, but fine.

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Liking Lendl

Yesterday I watched Lendl Simmons bat.

He hit his first boundary so far into his innings that everyone watching was asleep and missed it.

Then he was retired hurt for a while.

Before coming back and going out.

That was pretty much his day.

There are many reasons I shouldn’t like Lendl.

His technical flaws are quite obvious. He plays across the line for no good reason, and he reaches across like a desperate kid trying to get to the back of his dad’s special draw. To short of a length balls on off stump, his bat flies in from an gully and cuts across it to that his chance of middling the ball is limited.

He bats in two speeds, casual disaster and handbreak.

And yesterday he went off the ground retired hurt after getting hit in the pad.

The ball thudded into his knee roll and he went down like an assassinated politician in a spy film. He tried to bat on from this completely unforeseen ball hitting the pad incident, but he couldn’t and had to go off the field. He then didn’t come back onto the ground until the Windies were guaranteed a low total.

Yet, I still like him.

Even as he rolled around the pitch like he’d been kneecapped, his comedy bling necklace getting dirty and his slightly too big for his neck head thrashing against the turf, I still liked him.

I’m not sure why I really like him, I just do.

When his overly confident leg side flicks happen, I see them like a computer game, where his bat moves so quickly and in such a perfect arc that I can see the swoosh behind it. And as he stands upright with his bat pointing towards the sky I smile.

I don’t need to like him, or know why I like him, but Lendl is just one of those players that I get joy from and years from now when he is only brought up as nothing more than some callous bastards punchline, I’ll be upset.

You don’t choose the players you like, if you did, you may never pick the Lendls.

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Cricket with balls claims Andre Russell

In the history of cricket with balls we’ve only ever claimed three cricketers.

Cricket with balls’ Bryce McGain, Cricket with balls’ Holly Colvin and Cricket with balls’ Eddie Cowan.

Today we add Andre Russell.

Obviously we were talking him up before anyone knew or cared about him.

Now there are literally dozens of people who are talking about Andre, and while we’ve had nothing to do with his career or his obvious natural talent, we feel largely responsible for his rise.

When he took four wickets and made a dashing 49 against England, we felt like it was us.

Not just the jrod who is writing this, but everyone who feels like cricket with balls is a part of their day.

Picking a player before you’ve seen him or anyone else has mentioned him is often a fools errand.

What if the player is never seen again, the whole process was a waste of time. And worse, if they are seen and their very existence makes you want to vomit into the mouth of a passing grandmother.

When we saw Andre Russell, we didn’t feel this way.

We felt proud.

From his pointy haircut to his inability to control the urge to play stupid shots through to his fast medium bowling that has a technical hitch or two he is someone we want to see play, that we want to write fantastical posts on and who will raise in random conversations for no real reason.

This is why we are making Andre Russell the fourth cricket with balls’ own player.

Arise, cricket with balls’ Andre Russell.

We hope you’ll continue to be an unpolished all rounder that can splatter a stump, hit a mean six and wear the weighty crown of cwb’s own on that pointy hair of yours.

Now it’s time for two chucking.

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Fire in Babylon

I’ve just come home from the World Premiere of a new documentary about cricket, Fire In Babylon.

It should be noted that I wasn’t invited as some sort of viral thing, but that I bought a ticket to a film and the showing I went to happened to be a world premiere.  I did weasel my way into the after party though. Whisky cocktails aren’t to be shitted at.

The film was good too.

Really good.

It was political, crickety, had a kick ass soundtrack and vision of Rodney Hogg hitting Viv Richards.

It is essentially a love letter to the great West Indies team of the 70s and 80s.

Told in their words, the players tell you how they were racially abused by aussie crowds, racially profiled by the English media, willing to kill a few Indians, and all that other good stuff while they show more short balls that hit people than I might have seen in the last 10 years combined.

The film is not perfect.

It skips over several cool things like Wes Hall, Frank Worrell, when they used spinners to bore people, white captains and even George Headley.

It is amazing to see a film about West Indies cricket that Garfield Sobers is no more than a whisper in.

Even Malcolm Marshall is largely ignored as the film stops in 1984.

But what I like about it the most is that it is just about one period in cricket.

Too many cricket films try and cover too much, this limits it self to one period.

I might have done it slightly differently and used the 60/61 tour as a building block to the mid 70s, but this still worked.

It’s also important to note that this was a film made by a fan of the 80s windies and not a cricket fan.

That isn’t a flaw, but a different take on what most cricket nerds (and there were plenty of us in discussion afterwards) would have made.

This is cricket’s answer to When we were kings, and while it wasn’t as good, it was still a top cricket documentary.

The two reasons to see this film to me are that Don Bradman’s name is never uttered and that Bunny Wailer is in it.

Plus, the combination of lots of men getting hit and Andy Roberts oneliners is worth a ticket alone.

I found it quite inspiring, and hopefully the good reviews mean that others can make similar documentaries, and by others, I mean me.

If you’re in London, the film’s second showing still has tickets.

As for a general release in other places, they still haven’t sold it, so I have no idea.

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DJ Sammy is captain of the Windies and sweet as honey

Some of you might think that with Chris Gayle getting removed as captain, the West Indies will lose a certain cool edge.

I can understand, while DJ Sammy has the most perfectly shaped head in human existence, he is not the obvious cool guy that Gayle is.

That doesn’t mean we should write him off straight away, as readers of Sammy’s twitter will know, the man can smut it up with the best of them.

Like this.

Jesus christ was crucified when he was sin less… So I’m entitled to be crucified a million times cause I’m not even worth to tie his lace

Sorry, that was his Johan Botha impersonation.

I meant like this.

Off to bedrock, no honey from the comb cause queen B is not present. Dam I miss that honey to sweeten my juice..

OK, that could be just about honey and juice, but what about this.

My balls will be swinging in and out today and I’ll get the break thru the gully region…but also my fineleg will be closely monitored

Sure, you could read that as a cricket related tweet.  Try the next one.

Finally captain moves me but then puts me MIDwicket….I’m loving my new position No Balls cumming there..

CUM on, this has to be dirty.

This honey from the comb has me fielding at fine leg or slips position..captain please change my position cause the balls getting slippery.

Slippery balls, well you know the dew can be a problem in night games.

Just saw a trail of ants following my marriage footprints..hmmm this means the honey is overflowing…hmm sweet as..

I hope this is sexual, otherwise his lady is oozing actual honey.

If u looking me u can find me when u get the queen bee ..I’m dipping my life in some honey from the honeycomb…sweet as..

More honey.

Daaam honey from the moon taste finger licking good…sweet as

And more honey.

It is possible that in the history of test cricket no test captain has used honey more as a sexual reference on twitter.

I will support Sammy forever if in every press conference he uses the honey metaphor to describe random bits of play.

Or, if he dips himself in honey.

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Chris Gayle’s Birthday

In the next few months there is the finish to the Champions League, Australia V India, The Ashes, the IPL and a world cup.

But that shit aint mean a thing, the real event is always going to be this.

Ricky Ponting and Dan Vettori aren’t about to have their birthday produced by someone called jamyard.

MS Dhoni isn’t about to have a bottle of Hennessy on his invite.

No one’s paying 5000 large to go to Andrew Strauss’ party.

And Graeme Smith can’t get away with calling his birthday the lifestyles of the rich and famous.

What is weird is that not that long ago people seemed surprised that Gayle didn’t like test cricket so much.

After seeing this I’m surprised he plays it at all.

So if you have a spare 5k I suggest you go and celebrate Gayle’s birthday with Black Rhyno and co.

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