Cut-throat Thugee's,
Everybody knows the Super Kat has been wanting to strangle Pup, again, for the last nine years, but it takes MJ Clarke to say the "S" word on commercial radio to get on the news these days, now he's a gentleman of leisure on account of he's "one of the most polarising figures to have worn the baggy green in recent times". [Never mind that Pup will actually be calling the upcoming Test matches for Star TV from a studio in Mumbai, while he's enjoying the cocktail circuit and shagging "mystery blondes" in his spare time. "Sorry Kyls, won't be home for Xmas"].
The quote at issue being "we're not going to win shit".
He's right of course, and you have to concede, the man does have a point. No-one wants to win a turd.
Now that "winning at all costs" has been strictly forbidden by the Powers That Be under a thing called the Player's Pact, with recommendations to the MCC that new Laws be introduced designed to limit sledging, and umpires be issued with yellow cards, and such like, plainly, the good old days have gone away. Testosterone-fuelled aggression has been banned outright. Condemned well and truly to the lil' history books. Now that you can't call a ninny a ninny, some of the great sledges of yore will be consigned to the musty shelves of the Lord's Library under the Dewey number for "pearls of wisdom". Do they have a collection of tampered balls in the Lord's Museum, along with other illegally altered equipment, like Dennis Lillee's aluminum bat or Javed Miandad's cast iron floppy hat?
No more is Straya permitted to grind Poms into the dust for days on end - which used to be one of the finest sights in world sport. Banned. No more finely sandpapering the Seth Efreaken's until you have an lovely effigy of a kaffir-kicking Boer. Illegal. No more calling a spade a spade in the West Indies. Not kosher. No more sticking it right up those bloody Indians, because, let's face it, the Indians don't like it up 'em. Don't like it at all. The Paki's have always been the Paki's, who were unsurpassed in days gone by for their deviousness and sharp practice. Straya never plays New Zealand or Sri Lanka or Bangladesh or Zimbabwe or Afghanistan or the Netherlands, so they can go suit themselves. But now, the Strayan players just have to put up with it all. Never mind your mother's sexual history being called into question, if some-cunt calls you a-weak-cunt - then what? You're now expected to cop it on the chin? Turn the other cheek according to the gospel of Matthew, Holy Jesus style?
When did the "rot" set in, before or after the greatest batsman of his generation resigned the Captaincy? That's a concept up for debate. But Clarkey quite certainly wasn't involved in any ghastly ball tampering this year, so he is entitled to take umbrage, and forget the inconvenient truth that Strayan teams on his watch were rather famous, by and large, for being loud-mouthed hard bastards with a penchant for night-club violence. He reminded folks that they do tend to forget how he let his bat do the talkin', and the worst he got down to was threatening "to rip the bloody arms off" some completely insufferable Pom. But by Michael's reasoning, with victory by any means now outlawed, the Strayans will have to play for the honourable draw for the time being, and with the First Test just six days away in Adelbrain, it's well worth backing at $4.50.
The Super Kat jibe was water off Clarkey's back; as Simon says himself, their relationship amounts to "less than zero" - but then Gerard Whateley, who's well known among the ABC cardigans for selling his soul to the devil, had to wade in to say that Pup had "missed the point". The point being that winning a turd isn't the point as the authorities have unilaterally declared that it's all changed and different now, with atonement, redemption, deference and respect making a comeback to a more mythical gentlemanly time. The so-called Spirit of the Game must be invoked at all times. There wasn't much deference or respect in Bodyline, was there? Same as it ever was. Pup couldn't let that pass and blew his top. And the former Captain also couldn't resist calling the radio caller names, describing Whateley as a "headline-chasing coward" and inviting him to take his coat off and meet him outside.
Warnie and Vaughnie are in Pup's corner, and even Haydos reckons you don't play Test cricket to get a Masters Degree in being a "good bloke". Just ask that Viral Rat Kohli, he'll tell you, because he is not a good bloke, and will take every opportunity to get under the Strayan's skin now that winning for them isn't everything anymore. Conducting yourself with the utmost decorum is far more important. The Strayans are now required to take even the lowest of low provocations, at which the Indians are specialists, in their stride. Be prepared for some surprises. Endless niggling with any comeback now strictly verboten can get to a bloke. Just ask Smiffy. Kohli is solely responsible for doing SPD Smith's head in in Poona, leading directly to many moments of madness. Pup had nothing to do with that.
Perhaps it's best to leave the last word to the newly crowned Strayan coach Alfie Langer, who told the press "I don't know what you people want. We were too aggressive and probably stepped over the line, and now we're being called too soft."
Glad the coach knows what's going on. No-one else does.
