Dreamers,
The morning after the Disaster in Durham, remember wandering into the local newsagent and flipping over one of the fishwraps, only to see the back page headline scream in bold type:
MICHAEL CLARKE: I HAVE NO ANSWERS.
And he still doesn't.
Bet he's glad he dropped himself from the selection panel, so he can't be blamed for that part of the debacle, at least.
Despite the appaling result and the loss of the Ashes away, Michael captained the side in exemplary fashion, by all reports, and carried himself with aplomb playing test match cricket for days and days on end, and scored a very good hundred to boot.
But, most unfortunatley, Pup knows that he's rooted.
Heard him on radio interview the other day when he made himself unavailable for India and said "it's been a problem for me since I was 17"
After all those years on the workbench, Shagger's Back has finally caught up with him.
Damn shame, that.
And now, in breaking news, it appears Clarkey is "under a cloud" for the first test in Brisbane, ":if you ask my physiotherapist".
Deary me.
Imagine my mild astonishment to find, on the day after the AFL Grand final, on switching on the digital telly, a one-day cricket match between NSW and Tasmania being beamed into my loungeroom live and direct from the beautiful Bankstown Oval.
The Blue Bags played a swag of test players and won easy.
Nice, unexpected start to the summer.
However much you hate Poms, you have to admire the sheer cheek of the most disreputable club in the whole world, the MCC, and the selection committee at Lords, for picking Monty "Farkin" Panesar to go to the Ashes Pt II, as the touring clown.
Monty had what Wisden described as a "poor domestic season, both on and off the field" and yet he gets picked for the Australian tour solely on the strength of his solid reputation for annoying the bejus out of Australians.
Jibber, jibber, jibber.
Nothing but trouble that bloke, if he plays a game; otherwise he can just wheel out the drinks trolley and the tray of gin and tonics at tea, and know his place.
To his credit, though, at least he's not Harbhajan Singh.
Luckily, Straya has a very effective weapon in the fight against the Panesar Scourge in the form of Dave Warner From The Suburbs.
Provocatiion is Dave's long suit, and he can't wait for the first opportunity to get right up Monty's nose, or any other Pom that happens to come near him, Root, chief among them.
He's got form there, with the knock out left-arm jab to the snout the preferred option.
Did time for that when he should have got a medal.
Warner has a a pathological dislike of Poms in all shapes, colours and sizes, which should be encouraged.
So he can, must, and will, open the batting, just to teach the arseholes a lesson.
FIGJAM can go suit himself.
How a player so useless could dupe the selectors for so long is beyond me.
Does he have pictures of them?
Found myself in an easy-chair the other day chatting with some people who know about these things over a couple of beers when the subject of Watto came up.
The Stats Guru mentioned in passing that SR Watson holds the all-time world's record for the most number of times out in the 40's in test matches, and is close to it out in the 90's.
As he said "speaks volumes".
Seems the team, the powers-that-be, and most fans have written off losing in England as a bad joke, a freak abberation against a mob of dirty low-dog cheatin' bastards.
Some truth in that, but there might be more to it than that.
No idea who Straya will throw up as an XI, given that there is not a lot to work with.
But, hey, the sun in shining and you can only dream of a repeat of 06-07, enjoying being thrown out of pubs for baiting Poms and for just singing "five-nil! five-nil! five-nil! five-nil!".
So, the Swans buy Buddy Franklin in a "shock, audacious move".
Never mind the cries of moral outrage coming from the backs of high horses south of the border, where apparently the sky is falling in and it's the end of the world as we know it.
Wot?
It's well known the AFL gives the Swans an extra million dollars a year in salary cap for "living expenses", on account of Sydney is such an expensive place to live in [the fact that it's not - you can live very well here on the cheap - apart from outrageous housing costs - is another kettle of fish] so, what do the Swans do?
They go out and buy the best available player on the free market for a poultice, with a fair premium thrown in.
It'll cost 'em plenty.
And the Mexican clubs didn't see it coming?
Wot?
Don't give me that.
Then they have the utter cheek to cry foul when everyone knows full well the Swans have done everything by the book.
Funny that the non-Melbourne clubs aren't exactly screaming their heads off about it; they well remember how Sydney cleaned up the Tippett Scandal for them with a minimum loss of face.
Ironically, Tipsy Tippett would be spewing, just having been diddled out of a job.
Little point in having two half-to-full forwards, both with huge ego's that wouldn't fit through a normal doorway.
Mummy wasted no time in signing a three year deal with the GWS Pygmies the very same day, Jesse White has made his intentions very clear that he wants to go home to Melbourne, and poor ol' Sam Reid will take whatever he can get, that's if anyone will buy damaged goods.
They'll keep the Mad Canadian, The Ugliest Man in Football, and Spida Jnr occupied in the ruck, and as insurance policies, just in case Buddy is injured or suspended, again.
Clever stuff from the Swans who had the deal all sewn up months ago in complete and utter secrecy.
Obviously, the Melbourne spies aren't doing a very good job.
The "oh, I can't make a decision before I win the Premiership for Hawthorn" was a very convenient decoy, while the GWS bid for his services was the ideal red herring to drag across the path.
All very expensive smoke and mirrors.
