First match of the season

Yesterday must have been a good day. I woke up this morning with a sharp pain in my ribs and some white, crusty matter in my hair. I guess I fought with those Pakistani fans, but at it must have ended amicably.

So! It was the first game of the season for me. Late, I know, but I have been jet-setting as late. Following in the wake of King Cricket’s photo journalism, and my own last year, I too, present the 2009 season's commencement.

The day started well. Sandwiches and Greek pistachios. I’m not entirely sure whether they were actually Greek, I bought them in Greece and they have a lot of Greek on them. So, I gave them the benefit of the doubt and brought them with me. A decision I would come to regret.


As I was walking along, I began to worry over the state of my boots. The previous day was spent picnicking in a field in Suffolk, and a group of curious cows found great interest in my leather footwear. Then I realised I wasn’t going to London premier ground, Twickenham Green, but slumming it in the Oval. Buggered boots be damned.

Here is a picture of the cows.


The match started well. The dancing girls proved surprisingly entertaining. The crowd never tired of booing the male dancers off the stage. The joke was still hilarious after hours of repetition. Here’s one dancing on his face.


Also, the celebrities were out. Sadly, Boris Becker could not afford a ticket; he ponced a free one as a cameraman.


Remarkably, my companions were complaining of ill-preparation: they had left their sunglasses at home. Not me. Look how cool mine are.


However, as Ireland’s innings sank into oblivion, I had a crisis of my own. Where to put the pistachio shells?

Jesus Christ! What am I going to do with this lot?

Alas, the weather began to have a bit of weather about it.


Then it rained and we went to a bar. Following this, some things happened. Then we went to a curry house. And I went home.


Ah, the ever reliable District Line. You never screw me over with Duckworth Lewis calculations.