Fat Zim fights ‘em

Duncan Fletcher, the former England coach, is serialising his autobiography in the media. He regularly releases instalments in the Daily Mail. The latest whiney drawl can be read here. I wouldn’t recommend it, though. It is pathetic.

Ayalac will save you the trouble by taking the best bits out of context and making fun of them.

Firstly, he moans about how much stick he took from the press in general, and Ian Botham in particular. Apparently Botham gave him dodgy and contradictory advice. In one victory, everyone gave Fletcher a huge bear hug to congratulate him...

“Botham just stood there and did not say or do anything. And to think he later said that I had 'taken being miserable to a new level'. What about him that day?"

He thinks the players listen to him but they do not. Often you would go into the dressing room and hear the players in exasperation saying things like: 'Have you heard what Botham is saying about the wicket?'”

Yeah! The big bloody successful bastard. D’ya hear mate my mate Chardonnay said about him? Wait, these aren’t the diaries of a pre-pubescent Basildonian female, it’s a respected public figure. Who’d a thought it?

Other hilarious episodes include Fletcher giving Geoff Boycott an ear-full down the telephone, and then felt guilty. What sort of twisted monster is this?

But, wonderfully, apparently when Fletch approached hero of the air-waves, refined Henry Blofeld, Fletcher writes:

“He did not even greet me but instead just bellowed 'Fuck off. I don't want to speak to you.'”

And when Fletcher persisted in conversation, gentle Blowers reposted with another “Fuck off.” This is the most fantastical thing I have ever heard in international cricket. Marvellous.

Anyway, further to this, Fletch moans about Andrew Flintoff being too pissed to win an Ashes. According to others, though, Flintoff has never had a problem with booze. These people are, in the main, Northerners, though.