Posts Tagged yikes

Beautiful, dirty, flipped

Dirk Nannes is an endlessly interesting player – not to mention normally very easy on the eyes – but I am now just a little bit afraid of him, as I believe he might be about to leap out of my computer screen and devour my soul.

Let this be a lesson to all those contemplating similar retirement from the first-class game after Dirk’s example: you can do it, but it will drive you mad, and children will flee shrieking from your crazy, crazy eyes.

Your call.




Be afraid

Mickey is plotting his vengeance. It will be slow, and it will be painful. I defy you to look at those eyes and not feel a cold chill of horror run down your spine (you may have to pretend you are a heavyset scowly South African for this to work at maximum effectiveness). Make no mistake, Graeme, this man wants your blood. Sleep with one eye open.

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Desperate measures?

Well, that’s one way to stop Rahul Dravid after he’s made a hundred and looks like he will only be dislodged from the crease by the coming of the Apocalypse, or, failing that, when every last available opposition bowler has collapsed from exhaustion and a broken spirit.

I’m obviously not advocating the use of extreme force against Dravid (partially because I LOVE him, and have done since about 1998) but I’m also an ardent supporter of Bangladesh, as heartbreaking an existence as that often is. They deserved the opportunity to rub Sehwag’s dismissive attitude right back in his face, but sadly for them and us, life is never that perfect. Today’s result wasn’t quite the capitulation it looks like from the scorecard, though – both Tendulkar and Dravid had multiple lives because of dropped catches, an affliction Bangladesh have apparently caught from Pakistan, somehow. Gary Kirsten must be placing calls for full-body Hazmat suits for his boys lest the infection pass on to them (not, it must be said, that India aren’t perfectly capable of spilling sitters all on their own and while in perfect health.)

The obvious segue here is to Pakistan and their eventful week, but thinking about that makes me very depressed, so we’re not going to go there. Suffice it to say that Mohammed Yousuf, comically inept fielder as he is, doesn’t deserve this shit, any more than the lovely Younis Khan did before him. Ijaz Butt is a blustering assclown surrounded by many other blustering assclowns, and the lot of them should move to some piece of land in Larkana and spend their days playing Monopoly or firing off Kalashnikovs or whatever the hell else they need to do to keep them from screwing up a talented team even more than it’s already been screwed up (which is to say, potentially past repair.)

Oh, look, I did go there. Huh.

In other news, Australian Graham Manou has always seemed like a perfectly nice guy, famous mostly for his last-minute subbing-in for an injured Brad Haddin just moments before the start of the third ’09 Ashes test at Edgbaston. What we didn’t know, though, is that you really, seriously don’t want to fuck with Graham Manou. He will cut you.


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