All this should have been mine. Instead it’s heartbreaking having to watch Trembler waltz into the England side, bowl a few lollipops there or thereabouts, and reap the rewards of playing an Australian top six with more self-harming instincts than the Manic Street Preachers fan club. Frankly it’s absolutely shocking; particularly for batsmen in division two of the county championship who had no idea Chris Tremlett could be this effective.
All that worry about Jimmy flying home between Tests and it turns out to be Australia’s batsmen who look like they’re jetlagged. Phil Hughes was happy to watch the ball safely past the edge of his bat and onto the stumps. Ponting gave us his impression of an early Jesus and Mary Chain gig – a ten minute performance followed by a wall of abrasive feedback. Clarke is batting like he’s finally looked up ‘poisoned chalice’ in the dictionary and Steve Smith would only complete a high scoring top six if he were playing alongside the Bradman quintuplets.
That leaves Mr Cricket, the human equivalent of an ELIZA program doing a Turing Test, and Brad Haddin as the only batsmen to stand up. How old is Brad Haddin by the way? He looks like he should still be boycotting Japanese electrical goods because of his experiences constructing the Burma railway.
So, an all round miserable day for the green baggies. Rounded off by our openers making it safely to stumps. You’ve got to feel some sympathy for Australian’s here; as every time they turn on the TV, there’s Alistair Cook filling up the screen with his bland Englishness. It’s the same sort of deal Take That have with ITV back home.
Still, looking forward to tomorrow now. Coach says we can send the openers off in a taxi while the rest of us have a student style lay in till mid-afternoon. That’s the thing about tours; they’re so busy you’ve got to take advantages of the days you’re not needed at the ground.