Move over Cheryl Cole, I’m the nation’s new sweetheart! That’s because my deliveries – like Cheryl’s X-Factor colleges, Simon Cowell and Louis Walsh – aren’t as straight as they first appear to be.
If only the opposition could auto-tune their batting. For I have triumphed against the Australian top order. I have all but unseated Ricky Ponting from his rotting throne of despair.
Exposed as woefully out of form. Unsure and tentative. A giant of the game revealed to be in terminal decline. His judgment in tatters. Is this the end for Jonathan “I’m not convinced Bresnan’s good enough at this level” Agnew? It’s only my natural warm-hearted Yorkshire empathy that prevents me from laughing at a man with a Test bowling average of 93.25.
So what do you think now, Aggers? I’m the only story in town. I’m Mr Back Page. I’m all over Australia like Shane Warne on a young mother with self-esteem issues. Ponting and Hussey were the dirty pillows I buried my head between. Tomorrow I finish the job lower down!
Memo to self: Remember to get some more foot powder.