It is just that.
He talks about fixing, ghosts and scary little men.
It is just that.
He talks about fixing, ghosts and scary little men.
It’s what it says in the title.
We discuss underpants, jet from gladiator, frape, weird bowling actions and being abused by 15yos from Notts.
I’ve started a new vodcast for cricinfo where I talk balls with grizzled county journeymen about their careers and stuff.
First one is with the salt of the earth Staffordshire sex symbol Alan Richardson.
I might link to them all here, or I may forget.
It’s two days since I saw Junaid Khan.
Since then I’ve had conversations with about 4 or 5 people where they have brought him up.
I expect more people to do so.
There is something that makes you want to tell everyone you know when you see a young Pakistani quick.
They get the heart started.
I can’t remember the last time one player got so many people talking in the UK since Amir played.
A Pakistani quick has the youth to make people interest, skill to make people talk,flair to get them to gush, and the sudden arrival to make it all feel like a dirty little secret that no one knows about but you.
There was no Junaid Khan for me before the other night, and bang, there he is, fully developed, bowling Yorkers out his asshole that seem to have some sort of artificial intelligence once they’ve left his hand.
It’s as if Pakistani quicks are created by some Muslim Cleric with ancient Hebrew texts.
“We need something to protect us, so I shall create another full bowling speed demon golem out of this magical clay that i found in Safraz Nawaz’s rose garden. He shall be fast like the wind, cocky like a Jagger, silky like a stallion and infectious like a STD. He shall roam the earth making people think of the Pakistani people as fast bowling lothario heroes, which will bring happiness to our people and carnage to the stumps of the world. Oh, yes, I like shaping the groin part, more clay please.”
I can’t believe that Pakistan just developed another fast bowling machine, one who might be fairly untested at the top level, but could be ripping it to pieces shortly.
Although, if my golem theory is correct, and let’s face it, it is, these golems are not made for our voyeuristic pleasure, they’ve been made because Pakistani cricket needs a saviour, to save it from itself, and Ijazz Butt.
And if ancient Jewish mysticism and Frankenstein has taught us anything, it’s that you might build a golem with the best of intentions, but things can go to shit after that.
The good news is that in Pakistan, there is a lot of clay.
Surrey has cracked the code, they’ve come up with a way to get more women come to cricket.
They’ve gone and got walk on girls from the sexy world of darts to usher the batsmen to the crease.
I talked to Surrey, or I think it was someone from Surrey, about their cunning plan.
“We want more women at cricket, an this is one way to guarantee it. Some may see it as a cheap poorly thought out publicity stunt made to give our middle aged fans a boner at the game, but this is about the women, not the men who ogle them.
Another upside to getting more women in the ground, we’ll also have a situation where young girls in the crowd will have someone to look up to. So far the only job in cricket for women as that of a cheerleader or WAG, both of which you need specialized skillsets for, but any middling to attractive woman can be a walk on girl. We need to create more positions for these kind of women.
Imagine going to the cricket with your six your old daughter, she looks around and there is no positive role models inside the rope, now she can see a job she can hope to achieve, walking the batsman out to bat, standing fairly close to the pitch itself, and ensuring that the batsman doesn’t get timed out.
It might come across as sexist, but our research shows us that young girls love tits and are mostly bi at that age. Breasts sell cricket tickets, everyone knows this.
Sure, we haven’t really thought through all the details, we do have a gay on our team. But where thinking of two sexy looking trannies, but it’s ultimately Steve Dave’s decision. We just hope he doesn’t want half naked bears.
I mean if we had a women’s team, we’d get men in tight bike shorts taking them out.”
The problem is that like most soft porn, walk out girls don’t really sell any extra tickets and are kind of shit.
I mean they’ll be clothed and not performing sex acts.
What a waste of time.
Surrey should be forgetting about the cricket and having a full oval orgy.
Hundreds of women and a few strapping young lads to perform 3 hour long sessions (any longer and new comers will be bored) of hardcore erotica.
I’m sure there is market research to back this up.
Sure there will far more mess to clean up in the stands than usual, but that’s the price of running a massively successful live sex show.
Cricket has been crying out for more useless sexism that doesn’t help it at all, I’m glad Surrey have stepped up to fill the breach.
Cricket and sex never really go together, but only because cricket will never fully commit, put the gimp mask on and face it’s naked ass to the sky. Maybe this could be Surrey’s role?
Before last week there were people lining up on every street corner in the UK explaining why Adil wasn’t ready for International cricket.
They generally pointed to the fact he was a roller not a spinner, that his consistency was poor, that he had a bad attitude and that he just needed to grow up a bit before he was considered a real international player.
Then he took 11 wickets, and some people saw this as proof he was now ready for international cricket.
They are wrong.
Here are the main reasons he is still not ready.
11 wickets is ok, Adil, but there is no need to show off.
This is cricket, show a bit of respect for your elders, the opposition and the spirit of cricket.
No one likes a show off.
The first day of county season is the opposite of the IPL in so many ways, but the amount of straw hats and the colour of the spectators as you walk in is your first two hints that it isn’t going to be an IPL experience.
County cricket truly is one of the whitest events in human history, if the BNP really wanted to cleanse the UK of dark skinned people, they should stage county matches on every corner.
Racists are just never clever enough to use tactics like this.
Ofcourse, at the end of the day the colour does come in when the palest men in the world turn slightly red after a day of topless wrinkly sun bathing.
I’ve never truly understood men who take their top off when surrounded by other men, who are all together watching men play.
The only way people know you’re pale on your chest in the first place is by taking your top off.
County cricket is a bit like the men with their tops off, it doesn’t really need to be an event, but even a bare chested 73 year old white man is something for you and your friends to bond over.
In Australia there is no first day of the summer, there is no one day that true cricket sadists plan for. I never went to a Vic match and knew 30 people in the crowd. Especially not the first day.
In England that is exactly what happens.
It’s a reunion, it’s the start of summer, it’s cricket coming back to town, and old men rejoice all this half naked.
It’s real cricket too, after weeks of world cup, with weeks more of the IPL, it’s good to see fat man play in front of a ground with no music, crowd or atmosphere.
It feels right.
You can put your feet up on chairs , argue about the Fresh Prince of Bel Air and be amazed that Rory Hamilton-Brown can captain a first class cricket team without knowing how to run between the wickets.
It’s not perfect, they have no crisps at the ground, you can only get pimm’s from one bar, and they have no jugs for the Pimm’s.
Everyone comes together though, and this is never more evident than the home made hot dogs they have.
Any day that starts with Gary Wilson, has Andrew Hall’s bowling action and various large unemployed looking men yelling incomprehensible rubbish is a good day at the cricket.
In Australia I’d feel like a sad loner at the G watching the Vics, in England, County cricket unites all these sad loners into one place, and then denies them access to jugs of Pimm’s.
If that isn’t cricket, nothing is.
It has been a up and down year for the Victorian Outlaws of Nottinghamshire.
Running to the front of the class when David Hussey and Darren Eyelids Pattinson were playing as they were completely inspired by the fact Dirty Dirk Nannes had decided to play for them in the T20 tournament.
Then trouble started. And by trouble, I mean a complete lack of cricket motor skills. It was as if the whole team was on absinthe.
It is now clear that when David Hussey left the county to represent the real Victoria, the outlaws faltered.
Left with only Eyelids Pattinson people thought the Outlaws would not be able to get across the line.
They were wrong.
After Adam Voges and Samit Patel had given away their wickets carelessly, it was up to Eyelids and some other scruffy to chap to get them the 400th run of the innings ensuring a batting point.
I would explain batting points in county cricket now, but it would be a shame for you all to fall asleep now.
So after Eyelids gets his four runs, ensuring that Notts are only one point behind Somerset, he then goes out to bowl perhaps the most important over in cricket history in which two runs were scored and no wickets were taken. The three wickets were taken by other bowlers who were inspired by his efforts.
Three wickets was all the Vic Outlaws needed and the title was theirs due to bowling points.
Somerset, who only signed one Victorian for the season (and never used him), gave up their chase early when it all got too hard. Not even staying out on the ground at the end, just leaving it with a very non-Victorian whimper.
Obviously one Victorian playing for them would have ensured at least one more point during the season, but they never had the Outlaws foresight.
Sure, you could argue that technically all Eyelids did was score 1% of the total and take no wickets as the Vic Outlaws won the championship, but it is that sort of small mindedness that stops you from ever truly being Victorian.
Well played, Eyelids, you were the glue, the spine and the intestional fortitude of this side.
I am sure everyone agrees.
We’re going to play a game here.
I need you to imagine you’re a fading international cricketer. Internationally you never really made it. You have some fans, but in the end you couldn’t cut it at the top of the game.
You had your moments though, and you aren’t some no one cricketer. People know your name and cricket fans would notice you in a pub.
The body is giving up, and other than T20 games, cricket might be passing you by.
You’ve even started commentating when you are county or IPLing, and you like it.
People say you have a flair for it, but deep down you know you aren’t quite good enough to be an automatic commentator when the next generation of English players come into the box.
In the short term, you just need a reason to keep your name in the limelight.
You’ve only just entered twitter, and you only have a few followers, mostly because a more famous mate tweeted your name.
You can’t keep relying on that, so you need to get your own press.
Being that you are no where near being selected, and your age combined with the new selection policy means that you might never be again, why not stir up a bit of controversy.
Knowing that there is an international side in the news every 28 seconds, and the biggest drawcard in the national team is fresh off a media storm, you know that by creating some shit you’ll get some news, without 100% nasty overage because others are busy.
So after a few drinks on a saturday night you type into twitter a dig at the chairman of selectors, calling him a prick. Deep down you know that he is not the most liked person in cricket, and that even if people think you are a dick for tweeting something, they won’t mind that you called him a prick.
You then go to bed and expect to wake up to some shit about how you over stepped the mark.
When you wake up you realise that your tweet has garnered very little attention, people didn’t even know which chairman of selectors you were abusing.
You then name him, and call him a prick and a knob, and you do it at a time when many of your followers are on Twitter.
Once you see a few people retweet it, and a bigger reaction, you delete both tweets and wait for the outrage and free press.
And it isn’t just the first storm that you get free press, you’ll get more later when someone else does a twitter fuck up.
Would you do it?
I’m not saying Dimi Mascarenhas actually did all this, but why wouldn’t he?
KP obviously was sending a private message (and he isn’t the only cricketer to put one public), Azeem Rafiq is a hot headed kid, Tim Bresnan was reacting to being called fat and Phil Hughes’ agent’s computer guy made a mistake.
Dimi’s situation is much different. He tweeted on two separate occasions. His first tweet was vague, his second was on the money. Dimi is not an idiot, whether commentating or captaining, he shows some brains, so why shouldn’t we speculate that his tweets were not mere angry responses to Mr Miller’s rudeness.
£1,000 is not too much to pay for all the press he has received, and any suspension would mean very little considering he has only played one game for Hampshire for the entire year.
Now look at one line of his apology.
“This was a silly, late-night conversation that got out of control and doesn’t reflect my true views on Mr. Miller.”
The second tweet was put up at around 11 am on sunday morning. That is one hell of silly late nighter.
I’m not saying Dimi did this on purpose, only he will know that.
I’m saying that if he did he is a fucken evil genius, and if he didn’t I still think this all worked out for the best.
In the future I think we will see a few strategic twitter “foul-mouthed rants”.
Amazingly the T20 tournament from hell is still going.
Every now and then it stops, other cricket gets played, and I assume it is over, but then it comes back again.
The Quarter finals were on last night. The semi finals and final are some time next month.
The 146th game was won by the Victorian Outlaws.
But the 145th game caught my attention.
I was grabbing a bite to eat and sat down at the right time to see the start of the game.
Opening the batting for Warwickshire was:
Neil Carter, 35, South African.
Darren Maddy, 36, English.
Opening the bowling for Hampshire was:
Dominic Cork, 38, English.
Abdul Razzaq, 84, Pakistan.
In English cricket there have probably been older combinations of players opening the batting and bowling.
But this was T20.
The young man’s game.
A cricket game devised for the ADD afflicted to enjoy while they throw rocks at old people.
Having watched a fair bit of county cricket it shouldn’t surprise me, players generally play on until someone swaps their bats for their walking sticks, but in a T20 match this still seemed odd.
I expected, youth, vitality and pimples.
Instead I got wrinkles, aches and Neil Carter.
Ofcourse the oddest thing is that Abdul Razzaq isn’t even the oldest thing to appear on a county ground this year.
Imagine the chances of a meteor falling to earth and someone being at a county game to see it at the same time.
Some say the meteor was 4.5 billion years old, although a Pakistani scientist has claimed that the meteor is no older than 18.