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Writing

17th November 2010

At last the tiger is out of the cage. Golem awakes. The Kraken has surfaced. I can show the world all that I am!

Hang on. Does that make it sound like I’ve been exposing myself outside McDonalds? Not my intention. For I have been unleashed upon the pride of young Australian manhood…no, no, that’s still coming out all wrong.

Let’s just say I’ve been picked for the game against Australia A.

AJ and Tremlett open the bowling. Whilst I’m given a more subtly demanding role. In the words of David Saker, “You are the passion of the side. The glue that holds the attack together. The passion. The glue. The pooh, if you like.”

Quite the motivational speaker, this guy.

In we roar. Ajmal. Tall. Athletic. Not officially here, yet present none the less. Like a second set of books for a used car dealership. Tremlett. Confidence returning after the outfield was swept for creepy-crawlies. And me. A Boswell without a Johnson. A Samuel Johnson, I mean. Jeez, everything’s coming out wrong today…

We are electric in the field. Alert. Alive. Monty dives. A hand extends. He grasps the ball. A wicket falls. My victim is ensnared. We are exultant.

The secret to Monty’s improved fielding?

“I imagined it was a booby”.

Sussex coaching techniques triumph once again.

 

 

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