Denizens of the bleachers,
What a test match!
Had everything.
No less than five fine centuries, including an absolute sparkler from The Little Master, spectacular batting failures, some top notch seam and spin bowling, some bowling that could hardly be considered even first class standard, a wicketkeeper with a fit of the iron gloves, dropped catches, grassed catches claimed as fair, the worst and most appalling exhibition of umpiring seen this century, rain delays, pitch hammering by the ground staff, foul play, foul language, bald-faced cheating, sledging, racial vilification, petulant captains, and they even had a monkey roaming about the field unharrassed by security!
Just a pity that for various reasons I was unable to attend the ground for the test match for the first time in more than a decade, particularly as I am the sort of bloke who doesn’t mind a drink in a crisis.
After MJ Clarke’s first innings failure, he fronted a sportsman’s breakfast the next day and described the shot as an “aberration” [nope, not a lapse in judgement].
You’d certainly hope it’s not a harbinger of the bad old days when he was getting himself out leg before on a regular basis due to a technical deficiency.
Remarkably, up until the second innings, MJ Clarke over the course of 46 innings had never made a test match duck, so it was only fitting that he should go the whole hog and score a golden duck, and do his bit for charity.
Just when I was about to write off the kiddie‘s contribution to the match as absolutely zero, what happens?
Ponting [labeled by a Sky News sports producer who shall remain nameless as “a little cockhead” for ‘declaring too late’ on the fifth day] pulled out the last trick in the bag - after Pup had been asking to bowl all day mind you - and put on his left arm dibbly-dobblers, and he goes right ahead and wins the match singlehandedly in a matter of minutes after more than 33 hours of play!
Never mind that his second wicket was patently not out.
On interview after the match he quipped that he had taken more wickets than made runs, but was gracious enough to admit that his match winning effort involved “more arse than class”.
Captain Cockhead said after the game that Pup is now being called “Golden Bollocks” by his team mates – a moniker that may well stick.
After telling them that they are fools to themselves and a burden on the community, the powers-that-be should see to it that the Bamfords are punted for Perth [preferably with Stevie “Wonder” Bucknor sensibly taking the gold watch option] and The Turbinator rubbed out for three matches, perhaps we can now just forget all the nonsense of the past couple of days and start afresh with a clean slate in the west?
Somehow, I think not.
More like going for each other’s jugulars from the off.
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