There are several reasons you should be willing to sexually please John Inverarity for picking Smooth Eddie Cowan. These are mine.
Eddie Cowan is just like you.
No, you’re probably not an overly hairy stoic opening batsman who plays the moving ball better than anyone else in your country while writing every detail of your life into a cricket diary.
But you read cricket with balls.
So does Eddie.
It goes further, because if you comment on cricket with balls, so has Eddie. He uses an equally stupid id that has nothing to do with his real name when he is annoyed with me, or has something that he thinks is humourous, he puts in in the comments.
It doesn’t stand out as brilliant or written in iambic pentameter, it’s just a decent comment.
cricket with balls’ own
We claimed Eddie Cowan before most cricket pundits had noticed he’d changed states.
There were many factors. One was Eddie seemed like a regular human being and not a cricketer, he had a sense of humour, could write a tweet (or comment) and could bat the shit out of the moving ball.
So we anointed him as the third ever cricket with balls’ own, the first being cricket with balls’ Bryce McGain, who we then got a Test cap for, and then cricket with balls’ Holly Colvin, who already had a test cap, but we once let her pick the chicken wing in a buffet we really wanted to eat.
Basically, being cricket with balls’ own is a good thing, and even though Eddie flatly refuses to refer to himself this way, although it’s never too late, Ed, we know it’s this early stamp of approval which has done wonders for this often insecure nerdy athlete.
Lots of cricketers have books out. Some of these cricketers have read their books, but precious few write them. Eddie wrote his.
I know this, because I offered to write it for him, but he said he could do a better job.
Now, obviously he couldn’t, but that sort of confidence is why he is playing for his country on boxing day.
Eddie’s book is pretty fucken good, but he can and will do better. Eddie will read this last line as me putting down his book.
When I asked Eddie to do my podcast he said sure, but make sure I don’t get myself in trouble.
I then set him up to get in trouble.
It’s a sordid tale that involves a former NSP employee who often walks into changeroom giving unsolicited advice, who at that time was just a weirdo with no real job and bizarre theories about how he could make Sachin Tendulkar better.
I left it in the podcast because it was funny, and made this other man look like a buffoon.
Although Eddie and I weren’t laughing when this guy was given a made up job and a position on the NSP, which directly correlated with Eddie not being selected for an A tour.
I deleted that podcast, perhaps the only post of any kind ever deleted for editorial content on this site.
I did it because I wanted him to play for Australia, and a podcast of him mocking a selector may not help that.
For every Virender Sehwag, there has to be an Ed Cowan.
Virender Sehwag bats the way gods should do it.
Ed Cowan bats the mortals do on their best days.
He’s not often pretty, and his back lift is probably an obscene gesture in some cultures. But he really tries.
On and off the field. His book is an insight of just how mental he is about batting and getting the most out of himself.
People like this are great drinking partners, in a whiskey on the balcony at midnight kind of way, but they often get in their own wy when it matters most.
Eddie, did not.
His batting was on top form when there was a spot on offer, and with Australia treating the moving ball like that beach ball from Dark Star, they needed him now more than ever.
Cricketers are supposed to play call of duty and like Bon Jovi.
They aren’t supposed to study fianance, sit in the coern and write diaries and appear on extremely non-approved cricket sites.
If Eddie were in a war film, he’d be the one who doesn’t just jump over the hill, but who wears a peace symbol on his helmet while jumping over the hill and giving an inner monologue about the exact nature of war and men.
He’s not a cookie cutter guy, he’s not the normal athlete, he’s something else, and that should be applauded because if those of us on this site can’t appreciate Eddie Cowan for being an intense intelligent blocking machine, who can?
Celebrate this decision because someone like us, but with actual hand eye co-ordination and decent knowledge of nutritional requirements, made it to the place we all want to be.
Even if I didn’t know Eddie at all, I’d feel a kind of 5% of fucked up weird shit bond with him. I don’t think I’m the only one, either. He’s a cunt and good bloke, a smart ass and an asshole, a thinker and a wanker, the sort of cricketer you take home to mum and get drunk with while arguining and politics and the matrix.
As Hank once said “animals never worry about Heaven or Hell. neither do I. maybe that’s why we get along”.
Eddie, you hairy little fucker, I salute you.