As if the ICC hadn’t conspired enough against their own tournament, now whichever god, sentient being or brand of alien you believe in was taking down this cup without a cup.
First night, boom, Richard Levi’s ass and Dilshan’s ego should have started this tournament with a clash of two teams who can actually win the tournament.
No, instead we get than on day 5, the first day the rain turns up.
What can you learn from seven overs, can you accurately judge the character of a human being in such a short time.
It’s like saying, “that guy’s a dick” when they cut you off in traffic.
You don’t really know their a dick, or care, but you feel the need to say something because it happened in front of you. And in this case, you’re not even the driver, you’re playing with your phone in the passengers seat. And you’re not in any rush to get there, as even if they beat you, it still doesn’t matter. And you should have turned off the road days ago. And you never wanted to go this way anyway. And there are no good food places on this route, only fried chicken and juice bars. And who gievs a fuck about a t7 game when both teams have already qualified.
Result: A crowd of people turned up to watch a cricket match in Sri Lanka. Although I once saw more people line up to see a port that had just been built in Hambantota.