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Writing

22nd November 2010

I awake in high spirits.

We are seventy-two hours from D-Day – Straussy wanted to call it B-Day after the venue, but I managed to persuade him out of the idea. Just seventy-two hours from our chance to confine memories of Harmison’s first ball horror show from four years ago to history’s dustbin of malevolent infamy alongside smallpox, Maoist economic theory and Graeme Swann’s collection of Shed Seven singles.

KP’s creepy moustache continues to make him look like Gomez Addams. Which would make Steve Finn, lurch, and Goochie’s ‘unit’, Cousin Itt, I suppose. He’s bought a little comb for it now. Spends hours in front of the dressing-room mirror grooming the damn thing.

“Back and up through the air, then down and forward through the hair.”

“Back and up through the air, then down and forward through the hair.”

Over and over again.

He claims it’s a kind of Mr Miyagi style “wax on, wax off” technique to help his batting. The man’s a fucking idiot. You only thing Karate Kid about him is the crane stance he ends up in whenever he’s clean bowled by a slow-left armer.

Had a Reggie Perrin style daydream during team tactics meeting this evening. Andy Flower used the phrase “let’s turn synergy into winnergy!” and I drifted off, imagining my hands slowly closing round his throat.

I wonder how the rest of the team would feel if I could find a way to stop him coming out with all this buzzword bollocks?

Great! Super!

Yeah, probably…

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