As I sit here typing away in my Hugo Boss briefs, it feels unmistakably like India’s Blitzkrieg towards cricketing world domination is being undermined by injury.
Latest to be fast-tracked through our forward dressing station are the two Singhs – who I’ve only just learnt to differentiate between as ‘the cocky fat one’ and ‘the cocky thin one’.
The loss of Yuvraj is a blow we can absorb; our reserves of hyper-confident, defence averse batsmen who can’t play the short ball is seemingly endless. Harbhajan’s injury is another matter. One that forced me to revisit Mishra’s performance in our warm-up game.
Ye Gods. No amount of Vaseline over the camera lens is going to make you fall in love with footage of his bowling in that match.
With that in mind, Ojha has been called up as cover. Not really my kind of player. Highest first-class score of 35? How are you supposed to win a test match when your spinner has stats like that?
No, Ojha is merely a stepping stone to my vision of the future. India must be weaned off its obsession with spin. The way forward is pace. Pace above all else.
Imagine four Saj Mahmood/Mohammad Sami type quicks backed up by a Samit Patel style spinning all-rounder.
That is the future of India.
When I mentioned that to MS he was speechless.
My ideas often have that effect.
Finally finished reading script for Who fights now the Condor? Laxman’s gangsta-rap inspired, Bollywood re-imagining of Alfred Hitchcock’s The Birds. Such a surprising twist at the end. I had no idea it was a whodunit.
Told VVS I’d never read anything like it before. Which is technically correct, if a little disingenuous.
That was probably a mistake as I’ve now been asked to look at some of his other projects: a glove puppet historical biopic set during the Battle of the Bulge, Mr Snuffles says “nuts” and an all dwarf re-telling of Doctor Zhivago called The snow gets everywhere.
Beginning to wonder if the guy is winding me up.