Things didn’t go well for team India today. Our bowlng continued to be carted round the Oval, the batting collapsed like an erection in an abattoir, and Sreesanth was in full-on sulking mode after I told him off for making motorbike noises at breakfast.
Ok, I’m sorry I shouted. But not everyone’s interested in the difference between Kawasaki and Honda engines are they? Most people in the queue for kippers were businessmen trying to concentrate on memorising their powerpoint presentations and hoping no one from personnel saw the hooker sneaking away from their room the previous night. They’re busy people. They’re not interested in an impression of someone attempting an ill-advised double declutch when approaching a roundabout.
Yes, the sound of someone popping a wheelie was cool.
That’s no excuse.
Our batting unit is in need of having their confidence rebuilt after another collective failure. But I’m not sure I’m in the mood to do it quite now.
Frankly, I’m hopping mad.
Sehwag should be kicking himself after getting out the way he did. Although that would involve him moving his feet for the first time on tour.
Laxman continues to use an angled blade more often than Zoro; and as for Raina, all I said to him whilst he padded up was that given his lack of form it might be an idea to eliminate any shots likely to get him out. Look what happened. A twenty-nine ball duck ended by a front foot lunge at Swann that showed all the balance of Inzamam-ul-Haq on a unicycle.
Sachin was out too of course, but I can’t bring myself to be angry with him. Actually I’m not allowed to. It’s a clause in my contract.
No getting angry with him, no making direct eye contact, and for some reason, no using the lavatory less then ten minutes before he does.
You can imagine what a bugger that last one is. Can’t say I’m looking forward to my first home series after I found that tucked away in the small print…