I slept through SA's batting days so highlights are all I have. But I really wish I was in Cape Town. Not only to watch the cricket live, but also to nap with those men who doze off during the most exciting sessions. That way, I would still have slept through SA's batting, but at least I would have been sleeping right next to the ball that Bouch hit for six. Or the one that JP hit.
Yep, JP hit a six. His starting was shaky but he realized that being a sensitive flower like Ian Bell is a bad career move. Having said that, I am refraining from commenting further on the sensitivity of Samantha because he is yet to bat and the Poms have been wonderfully adept at making me eat my words. Bastards!
With England three down, most people seem to think that the Saffers have won this. Even though I am hoping that they are right, the eternal pessimist in me is asking me not to celebrate yet. Trott's still there along with a very tired looking Jimmy. The Poms are determined to break Jimmy down in the manner of Flintoff, so he can play the next Ashes amidst numerous injections. He just looks like he wants to go home, soak himself in a hot bubble bath and hit the sack. Instead he has to stand in the middle with the boring Trott, trying to comprehend his Saffa accent as he speaks nonsense and wastes time. Poor guy!
Regardless, I demand Biff bat for England tomorrow till he gets his 200. What the fuck is the umpire doing not noticing the no ball? Evidently, Jakes should have been watching Onions' feet. So now both the UDRS and the batsmen's gotta do the on field umpires job. They just pretend to be there when actually, they are busy drooling over the sun-tanned girls around them. DO YOUR JOB!
If I was in Saffaland, in between the naps, I would have thrown banana peels at the umpires, just for fun. I would also have hit Jakes for getting out the way he did. And I would definitely have begged Cullinan to stop being a commentator. He is not good at it. He is not good at it at all.
9 comments:
Lunch. Five down, Sloth out, new ball.
I hereby proclaim:
It's Friedeltime!
*hopes*
hopes > nopes
:/
Whoohoo they got a wicket! Only 4 wickets left... with 13 overs remaining, Anderson already dead, Friedel on a stretcher and Morne... forkknows ¬ ¬
bah bah bah bah bah
/monologue
I wanted to give Morne a hug after that last ball. He looked so upset.
I wanted to kick Dale too. Bloody chipmunk.
Dale was superb. You didn't even have to look very closely to see the smoke rising from his soles.
The Moocoo Man should have put Morne back two overs earlier. But Harris took his time until he finally used raw violence to ram that idea into Smithy's bullhead.
I think Dale deserved the matchsaving wicket most though.
But. Main problem was the fruitless second new ball. How for Fritz' sake could that (not) happen. From there on one knew England would wiggle their butts out again, with one wicket remaining. It was like a vision in the mind, so clear. This is England. They are so... unspontaneous, unimaginative, repetitive...
Dale was superb and terribly unlucky. That's why I want to hit him, to get the bloody chipmunk luck out of him.
They should have gotten at least 2 wickets if not 3 with the new ball. That's where Bell and Colly deserve praises I guess. Ugh!
No. They don't.
ò_ó
Chipmunk luck, haha thanks, learnt something new :D
You are right. No praises to Colly buttniggle and Samantha. SCREW THEM!
Sigh.
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