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Writing

11th November 2010

Adelaide. My kinda town. All pubs, parks, laid back reflection. Like Oxford minus the cultural depth and Ukrainian hookers. Colly thinks it’s too ‘La-De-Da’. Then again, he said the same thing about Jimmy’s metal rimmed dart board.

Playing South Australia. Not convinced by quality of opposition. One of their opening bowlers appears to have a wooden leg. Is he filling a quota or here to replicate Mitchell Johnson? Hard to say. Just smile. They’ve been marvellous hosts. Didn’t bat an eyelid during Tremlett’s panic attack about a ‘rogue’ Koala.

Afternoon. Drowsy heat. Alistair crawls towards 32. Takes two hours. Even the Amish would find that colourless. Release the shackles man. Embrace Rumspringa. Hit a pigging boundary.

Evening off.

Japan has such a rich and diverse cultural heritage doesn’t it? The films of Kurosawa and Ozu. Novels of Mishima, Endo and Kawabata. Art as varied as Sharaku and Manga.

The England team like Karaoke. Strange given none of them will watch a subtitled film.

Tonight’s stand out choice. Jonathan Trott – Man! I feel like a woman! He may have misunderstood song title. You could spot exact point in lyrics when he realised it wasn’t gender appropriate.

Exactly the same confused look he got that time he tried to mark his guard on a concrete prcftise wicket. Managed it in the end, mind you.

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