There is some sort of new cool live magician dude who does tricks for the rich and famous at parties, and someone has filmed it.
You know the sort of magician I’m talking about, he looks less soap opera villain than the magicians of the past, dresses like a normal dude not a effeminate superhero and does his tricks at parties where the guest list is managed by a woman called paprika.
In one of these promos Stuart Broad is in the background looking like a rather striking androgynous model that has been placed there for the symmetry of the shot.
I didn’t think anything of it.
I mean, he’s an English celebrity, he’s at a wanky party drinking an over priced drink he didn’t pay for, and the camera has him in shot.
That’s all fine.
But now I get it.
We think we’ve just seen a test where Broad has taken 7 wickets and made 70 runs.
All of us who had written him off as a privileged lucky bastard with a rightfully earned test average of 36 who had convinced himself that he was in any way tough enough to be an enforcer as he went from test ground to test ground bowling terribly easy to play short of a length balls were shocked when he pitched the ball up and took wickets.
In a press conference afterwards he said that he knew his best length was pitching it up, he’d always known this. That everyone had always known this.
He didn’t, oddly, explain that if he knew that why had he spent 2 years ignoring it and being largely useless.
Then his batting, which even at the best of times looks just a bit too lucky to be real, came off.
When England needed someone to stay at the other end to Prior and tell him just how great his square drive was, there was Broad, cheering on like an office worker who is trying to show his bosses how good his partner’s PowerPoint display is and occasionally chiming in with, this is so 2.0, we’ve got to streamline our objectives hardcore, and this is purple sky and yellow ocean thinking.
It didn’t make much sense, as there was more than a chance that Broad was going to get dropped either before or after this series.
Now he’s not.
You could say that the pressure of Tim Bresnan’s form made him improve.
That Andy Flower beat him up until the only word he could mumble was “full”.
Or that he just realised that the good will of the media had finally rubbed off and that if he was dropped now he’d be known of as the guy who went for six sixes and over and was a stroppy little prick who never met an umpire he didn’t moan too.
I don’t believe any of that is true.
I think it was cool celebrity live magic.