Is Sluggo the best in the world?

Does the pope shit in the woods? Of course he is.

The Bermudan Cricket Board has recently been awarded “The Bestest” in the ICC’s Global Development Awards.

The criteria for this honour are, rather blandly, “excellence in all of governance, management, cricket operations and development.”

Apparently, the BCB beat all the other cricket-playing nations in the world. Perhaps a surprising decision, given the rank mismanagement of the national team and the squandered opportunities after World Cup publicity, but the BCB has a strong grass roots domestic scene. The number of children playing competitive cricket has more than tripled in the last three years.

Most of these successes can, of course, be put down to Bermuda’s best player: Sluggo.

If Bermuda has the best development programme in the world, then the best product of that system must be the best player in the world. It stands to reason.

But we already knew this, didn’t we?

Of course we did!

Well done the ICC. I approve of their decision. HOORAH FOR THE ICC!

The sheer oh blimey amazingness of Sluggo’s prowess on the field was seen in his recent (ish) game for Bermuda against Guyana. Although even his Atlas-like shoulders could not prevent a narrow defeat, his excellent one off eight balls and no wicket for 14 runs whilst he opened the bowling ensured that the game went right to wire. Guyana only managed to chase-down Bermuda’s total after 10 overs.

Interestingly, the Bermuda also produced the photograph of the year, entitled “It’s a catch”. I have scowered the internet for this image, but sadly, my technical skills failed me. I shall assume it was this catch:

Hoorah for the ICC!

Yesterday was the English pagan festival of May Day. Weirdoes and winos seem to celebrate this rural day of animalism and cider-drinking.

That’s why I wasn’t surprised when walking through the streets of London I bumped into a small group of socialists enjoying what can laughably be called “a march”.

There were police escorts, roads cordoned off and much bemusement by bystanders. “What’s the point?” They murmured to each other, “there are so few.” Indeed, there aren’t many left-wingers left these days, and only about forty or so bothered with this protest. What makes matters worse is their poor diction; I had no idea what they were going on about.

“What do we want?”
“Mlur, mlur.”
“When do we want it?”
“Mlur!”

Then they started saying something about justice. I wish I had a sign that said “down with justice”. But, not for the first time, I left home unprepared. I should have shouted: “Down with the rule of law! Up with arbitrary judiciaries!” But I didn’t. And not for the first time.

So anyway, this group of small, annoying traffic-jammers reminded me cricket bloggers. There’s not many of them. They’re noisy. And when you can understand what they’re going on about, it’s just stupid.

So, I have decided to start a campaign for the Silent Majority of cricket fans. The HOORAH FOR THE ICC CAMPAIGN starts here.

Over the course of whenever I can be bothered, I will continue to sing the praises of the International Cricket Council in the hope that more people will appreciate how hard these people work to improve the game, and also on the off change that some ICC lackey will read my sycophantic acclamations and give me a job in Dubai. Preferably with a huge office, enabling me to live my dream of banning all fun at cricket matches and getting stinking rich whilst doing it!

So, here we go:

Powerplays. At first, I had my doubts, but they have certainly spiced up the middle overs with a new tactical dilemma for the captain. Yes. The ICC have made one aspect of the game more interesting. So well done chaps! Keep up the good work!