Woke up to news that Sachin has a virus. Nightmare. That meant no second spin option on the pitch and another phone call from his mother.

‘Yes, I’m aware how cold England can be’

‘Yes, I’ll make sure he wears his sweater from now on’

‘Yes, I understand what In Loco Parentis means

Really not looking forward to the post-tour parents evening.


Felt like we’d carved out an opportunity this afternoon. Had them at 62/5. Sharma gliding in. Dark hair flowing. So smooth and penetrating you’d think he was covered in sensilube.

Then the call came in from Munaf. Him and Sreesanth. Instead of being in the nets they were orbiting the London Eye for a third time. Unsure how to time their leap onto the boarding ramp. FFS, wheelchair users get on and off that thing ok.  But not them.

So, can I come and collect them because the security guards looked really angry last time they went round and they don’t have change for the extra trips with enough left for the bus to St John’s Wood; and they’d only get lost if they tried to walk back because Munaf left the A-Z in his other cagoule back at the hotel.

Give me strength.

By the time I’d returned with them, Prior and Broad had batted us out of the game.


Never had these problems with England. Mainly because I never picked Graeme Swann. Sure, there was the time Jimmy got his head stuck inside the dispensing chute of that airport vending machine, but we weren’t in the middle of a match then.

Seriously thinking of cancelling Tuesday’s trip to Legoland.