Today there was no footy to follow, well at least there were no interesting games. So today the Saffers were going to actually play.
Only, Morne being the naughty kid dominated the playground in the morning. He didn't want to let anyone else play, specially the West Indies. Sometimes Boucher got to hold the ball for placing himself directly behind the stumps and sometimes Smith got the honour, because the ball just could not escape his fat hands. I am like every parent who refuse to acknowledge their kids as adults. Just replace kid with Buffalo and adult with thin.
Dale, being the jealous little boy that he is, refused to be shoved out of the limelight. He gave up wrestling wild animals in the jungles for this for fuck's sakes! So he forced himself in the game and very nicely forced Chanderpaul to play as well. Mind you, it's one of the rare times any West Indian played.
Morne grimaced. Dwayne Bravo was the casualty of that grimace.
After, Dale had two choices:
a) grab the rest of the wickets with the specific intention of denying Morne his fifer
b) grab the rest of the wickets for fun with the indirect intention of denying Morne his fifer
He went with (b) because he doesn't have enough fifers in the bag. It's really quite frustrating for a bowler of Dale's calibre. He also went with (b) because Morne is lovely shed of red when taunted, makes for a nice Valentines Day cake. But we didn't care, West Indies was the real loser in this catfight.
However, the joke was on us just as we were preparing for a sequel to the catfight and Fatty and Alviro came down the stairs instead of enforcing the follow on. Apparently AB picked Dale up in celebration a few too many times and in return Dale picked up some niggles. Morne was also slapped hard in the ass by the Buffalo at some point, so you can imagine that the boys were in no condition to bowl.
I was pissed and blamed it on Biff, like most of you I am sure. I am a believer of democracy.
West Indies decided not to come to the playground at all.