Spry is something you usually say about old men who have somehow managed to stop drooling and shitting their pants to do something impressive like open a door.
That is why when I looked at my notes and it said “Hussey – Spry” I knew I was onto something.
Hussey has not been spry in test cricket for the longest time. He’s been in a cricket coma where he can’t even get good quality of dribble out of his mouth. If he was in a film of the week, his family members would have all been around him to talk earnestly about their life together and play him classical music.
I’ve a strong believer in Euthanasia, players getting dropped and Natalie Portman, and at least one of these options should have been used on Hussey.
Test after test he was wheeled out by CA to prove he had a functioning cricket heartbeat, you could see the weekend at bernie’s style way they moved him. He was not in anyway spry.
Today he came in to edge his first ball to slip.
Jesus and the Aliens smiled on him and then Hussey went about his bastardised and safe version of Sehwagology.
When a bad ball came, he didn’t just lie on the ground in a hospital gown letting it hit his largely lifeless corpse, he hit the thing.
With a bit of help from Swann trying to bounce him out, we saw the Hussey of his early 30s. He even danced down the wicket to give Swann a sore head.
He wasn’t attacking in true sehwagology style; he was positive, which proved he was alive.
Australia really needed him to come back to spry.
Once their openers went out, they did their predictable assclown act, and generally Hussey has been the unconscious assclown at the front of the parade.
Today he was a test cricketer. Spry, nimble and alive.
As much as I had campaigned and complained to get him out, watching the old guy get out of his death bed to do a little dance at the Gabba moved me.
Not Natalie movement, but definite movement.