It amazes me that human beings can walk upright, talk and operate any kind of mobile phone device.
We are so fucken stupid as a species that I for one cannot wait for the day our alien masters come here and make us into food, pets and handbags for the bored middle class aliens who don’t have to work because they have designed machines to do everything they need to do in life.
This post is stupid. Painfully so.
Because this isn’t even the first time I’ve written a post like this, I’ve done them for Warne, Gilly and Hayden. Probably for others as well.
I get sucked in by the stupidity of others and just feel the need to comment when I really should be doing something more meaningful with my time like cutting off my nipples to sew them onto a mouse.
Great players retire, get dropped or die. It’s a simple concept. Most of them retire. They do this because they no longer want to play the game at the highest level, no longer can play the game at the highest level, or are just sick and tired of training.
Warne retired at the right time for him, that he and McGrath left at the one time created a massive chasm bigger than Paris Hilton’s, but they both had to retire and at that stage Australia had Lee, MacGill and Clark. It wasn’t as if they left Australia cricket with a homeless guy who yells at tourists.
Now, four years later, some people want Warne back.
Actually, it isn’t four years later, they’ve being saying it on repeat on every single day since he left, because people are morons.
Warne made them feel warm and fuzzy. Well, they felt warm and fuzzy when he played.
That was because he was a major part in what was a brilliant cricket team. As good as he was, it wasn’t just Warne. Australia had three of its best ever bowlers in one side for years, they also had a bunch of great and very good batsmen, some capable back up bowlers and a cricket changing wicket keeper.
This team had these people warm, fuzzy and non sexually (mostly) satisfied.
Now that feeling has gone, and these people, like the simple morons they are, want it back. Well, you can’t have it back.
Forgetting the fact that Warne is 41, hasn’t bowled more than 4 overs a game in the top level of cricket for years, has a average of 36 at the WACA in his prime, has 9 other jobs, and wouldn’t want to tarnish his name by coming back, he just won’t come back.
At the very least he’d have to make himself available for Victoria, come back from London, and make sure he really could bowl 30 overs a day.
None of these things are going to happen, regardless of whether he rules out coming back or not. He just isn’t going to play at the WACA, and even if he did, he wouldn’t be winning the game for anyone other than England.
Asking your very retired players to come back, every time you team struggles is about as stupid as you can get.
It is sports version of having a bad night with your current girlfriend, ringing up your ex in a drunken horny state, then appearing at her house at 4am professing your undying love for her.
The chances of it being successful are very slim, the chances of you ending up looking like a complete ass clown are odds on.
Just writing about this has made me dumber. Because I know this is a nonsense media and idiot related issue, and yet I still write about it.
Just reading this has made you dumber as well. Because you also know that he isn’t going to play and that this whole thing is just a colossal waste of your precious time.
You could have spent your time reading about something important, taking your nan flowers, helping a young person with their life or clipping the toe nails for a local person with no arms. You’ve let down your community, family and species.
Instead of making a difference you came here and read this stupid ranty article written by some idiot who calls everyone else an idiot about something that was never going to happen in the first place.
It’s non-issues like this that keep us all so distracted we let the world become the sort of place that allows reality TV stars and cardboard cut out politicians to take over.
You and I are the problem.