Learning to tolerate T20

The difference between test matches and twenty20 cricket is much like the difference between meaningful sex with a partner you love, and casual, lusting encounters. Test cricket, although enjoyed with a person for whom you feel a deep affection, can be a little predictable. Whereas twenty20 gives you short, sharp, satisfying excitement, plus the added thrill that comes with the possibility of contracting a STD.

I used to hate twenty20. Well, not hate it. It’s the sort of generalised hatred you feel for those who sit next to you on the train. Untargeted and malicious perhaps, but not personal.

But, any format for which Australia are patently useless is a format of mine.

Plus, Ireland are better than Australia. England beat Ireland all the time, so, using the laws of transitivity, England are aches better than the convicts – the Australian ones, I mean.

In any other sport, “the favourites” would denote the team that were best at it, but the Indians are also singularly useless at twenty20. Although they tried to frighten England yesterday by wearing Dutch pyjamas, they failed dispatch an obviously rubbish side, in a surprisingly spectacular stand-off between ineffectuals.

Whereas, the South Africans have continued to deploy their controversial strategy of having a good team. Although he has a face that looks like Jack Russell’s kitbag, Graeme Smith has proved a quietly efficient dispatcher of the opposition. Annoyingly, it seems that quality does sign through is correctly used in this format.

Anyway, I’m off to watch the England game today. If anyone fancies a few bevies with a cynical, embittered blogger, look out for the most handsome man in the stadium. Then give him a slap. It would make me happier.