Cricket with balls almost died.
The website that started by accident, almost ended the same way.
This would have been one of the most poetic things to ever happen on this site.
If any website that talks about cricket in a bullshit anarchic way without any real direction which is only popular amongst the smallest portion of the sport’s fans were to die by fucking up, it should be this one.
What a way to go, stumble in, bumble out.
Instead cricket with balls was saved, and moved.
It looks different, but I’m pretty sure it’s the same sort of bullshit, just here.
In a classic Hollywood way, I didn’t realise what I’d lost until I was losing it.
My few days after the site went down were basically consisting of doing doing the Internet version of running through the airport trying to stop that special someone from getting on their plane to insert odd far off destination.
Luckily, the proverbial plane was delayed, and I ended up saving the site.
So here it is, as unprofessional and nonsensical as ever.
I’d like to thank the Chinaman for all his help with the site over the years. And with him gone you an expect more stuff ups like this one. the rest of the comments and posts will come across shortly, if I don’t fuck that up too.
While I was gone some shit happened (Clarke, hey, who knew) and I saw some of the most earnest reactions to a corruption case ever.
One person said it was the day cricket died.
Cricket doesn’t die. It may not always live, but it certainly doesn’t die.
If Leslie Hylton couldn’t kill it, do you really think three well paid numpties getting caught with their hands in the cookie jar is going to kill it?
And cricket with balls is much like cricket, only not so much.
It won’t die because I fuck up my renewal on the domain name, it will just have good days and bad days, depending on my mood and what films have come out recently.
Sometimes I’ll be busy working for others, and sometimes I’ll just want to sleep for 14 hours awaking only to masturbate and pee.
But once a week, at least, I’ll write something that isn’t entirely penis, and occasionally you’ll read it.
It’s the way it always should have been.
It’s cricket. It’s bullshit. It’s balls. And you can’t ask for much more, or you can, and I can tell you to fuck off.