Monday, May 26, 2008

Australia: why must you do this to us?

I heard someone say on the radio that “everyone wants West Indian cricket to be strong.”

I thought this rather trite: surely we desire universal strength in a highly-competitive arena. Then I realised that this wasn’t true. There was one team that deserved a long period of flailing, flabby retreat.

We want that side to lose. That’s right. Australia: land of high art and sophistication.

Naturally, success breeds contempt and jealousy, but why oh why must they be so heartless?

During their first test match against the West Indies, daft buggers like myself dared to hope: perhaps the Windies could sneak a win?

But that’s how the Australians get you. That’s how they crush you, like a hammer crushes a kitten’s brain. They let you hope and then, much like the Nazis, they finish you off within a flash.

This exactly the sort of thing that bastards do. Don't get me wrong. I’m not calling Australians bastards. I’m just quietly encouraging the reader to put two and two together and perhaps bomb their local Australian embassy. That’s all.

Worst still, people like Stuart Clark, built by weekly instalments via subscription of “Build Your Own Fluky Geriatric” magazine, finished off the naïve Caribbeans. Like a bastard.

Now. Which one do I hate the most? Ricky Ponting? The Little rat-like bloke who looks like he spends the weekends offering sweets to kiddies in the local girl's school? Perhaps he tempts a few back to his "studio" with promises of a great modelling career, only, she might want to lose some of the clothes...

Certainly a contender.

How about the hilariously awful Michael Clarke? The great hope for the Australian future of highlighted hair-dos and flashy misses? Perhaps.

The most infuriating fact, despite all this inept crockery, they still win. This cannot be tolerated. Everyone, heed these words:

Send a letter to your local secret service branch, with some intelligence to the effect that there’s weapons of mass destruction somewhere in Crocodile Dundee land. Hopefully, this’ll find its way into the Oval Office. Although, if the CIA ever discover Shane Watson’s hair products, the trigger-happy yanks won’t need much persuasion.

This is the only way we can win.

10 comments:

Anonymous said...

I don't understand Stuart Clark. He's about as old as my dad and bowls at a similar pace, yet he takes wickets for next to nothing on a regular basis. Was he cloned from one of Glenn McGrath's hairs or something?

Unknown said...

I don't know quite what I'm thinking sending you this link, but it pretty much makes half of your points, especially

"land of high art and sophistication", though we don't seem to know what's art and what's kiddy pr0n

"Ricky Ponting? The Little rat-like bloke who looks like he spends the weekends offering sweets to kiddies in the local girl's school? Perhaps he tempts a few back to his "studio" with promises of a great modelling career, only, she might want to lose some of the clothes..."

oh dear.

Miss Field said...

Bloody hell, you're never happy.

To defeat us, though, I don't think a terrorist attack would work in your favour.

Skill might.

Som said...

Unless something drastic happens in the Caribbeans, which none of us see really happening, cricket would remain a game between two sides with the West Indians always finding a way to go down.

Som said...

Hey AYALAC, adding you to my blogroll, mind adding mine?

Q said...

So much hatred for the Aussies - If only the England cricketers hated them with so much passion.

Miss Field said...

There's a fine line between hate and love.

The Atheist said...

Yeah. You all agree with me.

No problem Som, I don't mind the polite ones.

The Atheist said...

Yeah. You all agree with me.

No problem Som, I don't mind the polite ones.

Unknown said...

screw you hippie