There is always something that starts off social and cultural revolutions.
A song, an act, or a crime that grabs people and moves the world onto a new course.
We have one today.
What has happened today will be on par with Gandhi’s hunger strike, Rosa Parks on that bus and the Berlin wall coming down.
Today, magic happened.
A singular moment that purports to change only one person’s life, but really effects every single one of us.
The man, the myth, the wild beast, the skier, the multi linguist, the saxophone player, the Victorian, the daredevil, the Dutch, the world’s fastest bowler, THE DIRTY DIRK NANNES has been picked for Australia.
Women are fainting, men are choking, and autoerotic asphyxiaters are doing both.
This is the day people.
Remember it, what were you doing when you heard the news that the world had changed.
When a big rough diamond had pervaded the incestuous Australian cricket cartel.
The boys club has been broken down; this is a victory for real people everywhere.
Dirty Dirk Nannes is not a cricketer; he is flesh and blood like me, and maybe even you.
He hasn’t had his balls fondled since birth by eager cricket parents and specialist coaching instructors.
He has lived dammit, and then one day he said why don’t I roll my arm over.
Not out of greed, or ambition to wear special hats, but because he liked to roll his arm over.
And now this magnificent beastly man, this man of unnatural brutish grace is going to play cricket for Australia.
This is a special moment.
All hail Dirty Dirk Nannes, the finest purveyor of thunderbolts to ever play for Victoria, Delhi, Middlesex, Netherlands, and now Australia.
If you don’t have a tear in your eye you are a cold corpse like person.
Well done Dirk, well done.