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.

Daddy or chips?

Which is better, rugby union or rugby league? The answer is, of course, cricket.

Here's a harder question, who is better, South Africa or Pakistan? Well, maybe there's an easy answer, because, judging by recent performances, South Africa is flying eagle, whereas Pakistan is dying beagle.

South Africa are a lot like Australia. When they lose, we all secretly cheer, like when a good enemy of ours dies. Strangely, South Africa are not Australia, and yet they produce the same effect. I don’t know why this is. Nor will I speculate further, because I did not experience this dark joy.

Pakistan, with certain victory in sight, lost six wickets for 20 runs in 36 balls. This lost them the match and the series.

This is seriously rubbish. We all like Pakistan. They’re a charismatic bunch, that wade into the crowd with fists flying one minute, only to retreat into an introspective shell by beating the crap out of their team-mates with a cricket bat the next minute. You know where you stand with them. I like them most when they cheat. Lovable rogues.

Unfortunately, Pakistan’s batting let itself down. Mainly because of the buggering about with the line-up and the strategy and stuff. Although Mohammad Yousuf produced his usual unbelievable performance by averaging 70 in the series. Other that him, rubbish. Shaun Pollock out-performed most of Pakistan’s batsman.

If, like me, you are in need of a cheer up, read Stuart’s brilliant cricketing diary series. It reads like a mixture between Sue Townsend, Geoff Boycott and Vincent Van Gough. Top stuff.

Sluggo strikes back

Some of you may have noticed that Bermuda have been losing to Kenya recently, indeed, they lost their three match series by three matches. An England-like effort.

Dwayne Leverock, aka “Sluggo”, did alright. He was Bermuda’s third highest wicket taking, taking seven at 20.57 apiece. Not bad really. Better than Ashley Giles, I’d wager. The Slugs also weighed in with a massive eight from his three innings.

Sadly, Kenya won through having more people with their name beginning with the letter “O”. At one stage, the boys in green had eight O-ies in their line up, with all four mainstream bowlers starting their name with O.

It was an awesome display of team spirit and playing as a unit. Bermuda never stood a chance.

Of course Sluggo, like the champion of old, did his best to stem the tide. Although his legs are sturdy and his shoulders broad, it was too much for this giant among men.

However, the Bermudans, in a moment of blasphemy, opted to leave Sluggo out in their match against the Ugandans. Their sacrilege was quickly rewarded with a defeat by 43 runs. Realising their blunder they restored this Greek God to his rightful place in the following match, and the Mighty Figure return match-winning figures of 2-36. Champion stuff.

But it is the loss in the ODIs that will hurt the most. I feel depressed, because Leverock is sad. We have a bond. A connection. I’m not sure his feats deserve God status, but, if he continues with these brave performances, my divine link will surely prove irresistible.

I love you Sluggo.

PC crowd chants

I am a little worried about the Australian public. They might make fools of themselves. More so. So I have decided to write them a few political correct crowd chants to give the Ausslers something to sing about to make them, and the United Nations, proud:

Equal opportunity! Equal opportunity! Equal opportunity!
Oi! Oi! Oi!
Equal opportunity!
Oi!
Equal opportunity!
Oi!
Equal opportunity!
Oi! Oi! Oi!

Jimmy: Everywhere we go

Crowd: Everywhere we go

The people want to know

The people want to know

Who we are

Who we are

Where we come from

Where we come from

Shall we tell them

Shall we tell them

Who we are

Who we are

Where we come from

Where we come from

We are the in the main, but that's not to exclude others, Australians

We are the in the main, but that's not to exclude others, Australians

The ethnically diverse and open-minded Australians

The ethnically diverse and open-minded Australians

We are the tolerant

We are the tolerant

The Multicultural tolerants
The Multicultural tolerants

Etc.

I said oh, ah, everyone in the car,
I said everyone regardless of their ethnicity or social background,

There. That should improve things. By the way, I’m sorry if I offended anyone yesterday. Of course I didn’t mean that all Australians were bastards. Just most of them.

Australians: Are they all bastards?

A difficult question. Especially when we consider the affliction that is Germaine Greer. What twisted people would willingly exact that thing upon the world? This issue has reached new levels of importance with Sri Lanka’s up-and-coming tour of Oz.

Arjuna Ranatunga, former Lankan captain and heaviest man at the Chorlton-on-Beans May Day Fayre 1998-9, warned Muttiah Muralitharan to stay away from the tour, for fear of the abuse the spinner is likely to receive. Jason Gillespie expects loads of it.

For some reason Australians hate Murali. To me, this is unfathomable prejudice: Murali is great. He also has a medical condition which means he cannot straighten his arm. He cannot help bowling without a bent arm.

Should we ban Shane Watson from international cricket for having pathologically crap hair? No, he can’t help being a twat – he was born that way.

The arm business is only half it. The remaining abuse is likely to come from the fact that he is not Australian. An unthinkable crime, I know. But Sajid Mahmood and Monty Panesar suffered from these malicious attentions during the last Ashes series.

We can only surmise that Australia is a bastardly place full of, in the main, bastards. That may be unfair. Not everyone that lives there is nasty. There’s some British ex-pats, for one.

But if this frequent racial abuse is to continue, we may have to consider the possibility of Australia forfeiting the right to host international matches although. This may give the rest of us a chance. But, you know, something has to be done. I don’t know what…or how. All I know is that I don’t want to pay for it. Or anything else.

Shahid Afridi: still amazing, if alarmingly likeable

Afridi is rather like a pair of jet-powered roller skates: fun to nip to the shops for a pint of milk, but you wouldn’t want to commute to work in them.

This one-man myth helped Pakistan dispatch the South Africans by a handsome six wickets. Not only did he whack 32 off 18 to get his side off to a great start, but he also bowled a decisive 3-37 off his ten overs.

Afridi is finally finding a permanent place for himself in the side. Previously, people expected lots of runs from the man. Let’s be honest with our selves: Afridi will never do that. Quick runs, yes; many runs, not really.

But his bowling is becoming increasingly dangerous. I fancied him as the best bowler in the twenty20 tournament, and his weird brand of… well, I don’t know what you call them, spinning sneezes, or something, anyway, whatever the heck he bowls, it seems to do the job.

I remember seeing him bowl once. I thought to myself, “he bowls fast for a spinner.” And I was right. What was I talking about? I yes, I was saying that Afridi is now a Really Good Bowler, he provides handy, if mad, runs. This is his place. Moving the spotlight from the batting, if impossible, is probably the best way of handling his unique talent.

Most people love Afridi. Usually, the slightest sniff of popularity in a player is enough to put me off them (the Monty excepted) but there is a charm in Afridi’s rather slack-jawed approach to the game. Like home-brewed scrump, there’s a rustic honesty to him made all the better by the random dead animals that they threw into the vat.

As a rule, I like the players that everyone else loathes. Jacques Kallis and Rahul Dravid: champions among younger and more exciting men. Show me a solid forward defence played to a harmless half-volley, and I will show you a happy Atheist. Everything is in its place, and the world is as it should be.

Strauss: I’m just unlucky

In a response to his royal dropping by the selectors, Strauss has said:

"I have been a victim of some poor umpiring decisions, some unfortunate dismissals and a few incredibly good balls delivered at just the wrong moment.”

Which, frankly, is just bollocks.

Ian Bell went through an “unlucky” period. This involved him getting lots of “incredibly good balls” which resulted in nicks to the slips. Then, he adjusted his technique, and now hits loads of centuries. But perhaps that is just a co-incidence.

It is also a co-incidence that all the test match bowlers reckon that Strauss has serious flaws in his technique. And once you eliminate square cuts from his game, apparently the only way he scores runs, then he looks desperately under-prepared for international cricket.

Remember also that he has been moaning about “too much cricket.” In fairness, so have we all, but you must be careful what you wish for. However, you may have expected a little more sensitive treatment of a former England captain, and out leading run scoring in many series. He seems to feel a little injured by the whole affair:

"To say that it hurts is a massive understatement. In truth it is the culmination of a long, tiring and immensely frustrating 12 months in which little has gone my way,"

Of course, this is whinge. I think that last statement could apply to pretty much everyone in the world. Look at my last year: shit carpets my life’s journey, but do I moan to the Daily Telegraph? No, I just get on my bike and blog bitter complaints to no one in particular - like a real man.

Ramping up again

Stephen Brenkley, the Independent’s cricket correspondent, was making an extremely strong case on TMS for the inclusion of Mark Ramprakash into the Sri Lanka tour in November. He based his argument on the following fact: he is the best batsman in England.

Apparently, for him, that’s ‘nuff said. Which is fair enough, frankly. Yet, people were making the same argument at the end of the 2006 season. I think even Tim, from Third Umpire, was advocating his use during the Winter Ashes.

The idea was dismissed at the time. “He’s old” they said. “He’s had many chances before. He wilted. He’s old news.” Even I accused him of being a Harmsprakash.

And then Ramps went to repeat his batting dominance in the 2007 season in the First Division. Total dominance of all bowling attacks that he faced. He is the Don of the Domestic Game. Consequently, new force is being brought into the pro-Ramps arguments.

2006 was not just a blip; class is permanent. And, without doubt, Ramps proved that he was the classiest in the county circuit.

The anti-Ramps, continued their arguments. “No good at international level, though. Besides, it’ll be a step backwards – we need to build a team for the future.”

Yeah, but if he does perform, under this new enlightened regime, I wouldn’t say no to his runs. Even Owais Shah has publicly said that he’d be perfectly happy to give way to the Surrey run-machine.

It’s not an easy one. Surely Ramps’ mental attitude has improved? Yet, I’m all for giving youth a chance and building for the future. I think if one of the senior players, like Michael Vaughan or Kevin Pietersen was out, then there would be a very strong case for him. But to lose Owais Shah, who is ten years younger, may be too costly in the long term.

(Has anyone else heard Brenkley? Is he really a journalist, or is he just Mark from the Peep Show in a radio incantation. I think that it’s all a bit creepy. Although, I think calculators are creepy too. What do I know?)

Jones: I’m not Welsh

Simon Jones has now decided that he’s from Worcestershire. And who could blame him?

Statistically, you are less likely to be mugged or fat than when in Wales. Better weather, better cricket, less Welsh people and you are certain to get your hands on a lovely pear.

Since Jones received that impossibly bad knee injury (I mean, honestly, it’s like there’s a piece of shrapnel in there) the England bowling unit has wilted. We really need Jones to be fit.

Steve Rhodes, director of cricket at Worcestershire described Jones as a "quality bowler". He’s not wrong.

However, at 28 and with a dreadful fitness record, it doesn’t seem probable that he could get a game for Worcester.

His decision is a bit odd, considering that Glamorgan has been awarded an Ashes test in 2009. Surely he’d want to make a come-back on his home ground? Maybe he felt intimidated by the new broom quicks that are emerging ominously from Welsh. Anything that emerges from Wales is ominous though – just look at the M4.

Maybe he just fancied the quiet life? Rhodes goes on to say:

"Worcestershire deep down is a very close friendly club and it's not unlike the dressing room is at Glamorgan. It's not one of the major Test playing grounds but it is certainly an ambitious club that wants to go places."

Steve Rhodes. There’s some happy England memories. Ambitious but never went anywhere. Remember him. Remember him batting? Why did we ever bother? He was like a hopeless Chris Read before his time.

Flintoff: I won’t go away

Rather like those stains on your tea cups, Andrew Flintoff is refusing to go away regardless of how many times he’s been through the dishwasher.

I think it’s fair to say that I’m probably the only person outside of the MCC that doesn’t like Flintoff. I’m not really sure why I feel this way. It’s probably because he has “personality” and all I have is a bitter disposition.

Anyway, he now reckons that he’ll being coming back soon, because he’s employed the services of a reasonably priced Dutch surgeon, Professor Niek van Dijk. (Tells you all you need to know about the state of the NHS.) Prof van Dijk has had a good prod about in Flintoff’s mighty ankle and, like any self-respecting cowboy quack, thinks he can sort it no problem.

This will mean that he’ll be back in action in early 2008. He’ll be 30 then. It’s not Ming Campbell old, but it’s not Wayne Rooney old either.

Meanwhile, England have been doing splendidly without him. He’s certainly a reliable bowler, but his batting has been like watching a party of shepherd’s pies attempt the four minute mile. Consequently, he’d have to prove his fitness as a specialist bowler.

But England have been “really good” at bowling recently. Not just individually, but as a thoughtful and complementary unit. They work well as a team. It certainly isn’t broke.

And if there’s no room for Monty, then, by buggery, there sure as hell ain’t any room for that fat bloke from Preston.

Doing good the English way

The performance of England over the course of this surprising ODI series against Sri Lanka has been unremarkable. If we were to point for a couple of “key players” who performed at “key moments”, we may be left stumped.

Perhaps Owais Shah’s crucial 80 on the second match genuinely won the match, but other than that, English players have been quietly successful. Even Kevin Pietersen didn’t play any booming centuries. No one bowler ran through the Lankan line-up. They were hushed, but still had a force – like a girl’s burp.

England’s success has come from solid team performances. Rather like how England crushed the Australians in the rugby World Cup and knocked them out of the tournament, England’s bowling “pack” have been well organised, disciplined and good. This is a huge change from normal.

They have succeeded in a reserved way. No one wants to show off too much, they all just stuck in and did their bit. And quite right.

Most of the press seem convinced that this “resurgence” is solely down to Otis Gibson, the new bowling coach. Alan Donald and a year of improving performances account for nothing when there’s a chance for a badly researched but plausible article to write.

I put their success down to this: no Steve Harmison. I’m no statistician (although I tried, once) but I reckon England’s overall success rate has improved about a jillion percent since he decided to injure his cleavage or something. We need accurate bowlers that get wickets now. This is 21st century cricket, after all.

Guest blog: Beware of Virgins

Another special from my intrepid guest columnist:

So it looks like the bearded gnome is going to buy the (Northern) Rock. This troubles me, as it should every cricket lover. For those of you including the Bank of England and the Financial Service Authority who are unaware of the workings of the Rock, they sponsor my adapted team of Durham. A team that has managed to compete at the echelons of English cricket this season without relying on a bunch of washed up annoying English and Australian bastards.

According to a man I was talking to who specialises in investment analysis and happens to be on the board of the Club, there is major concern that any takeover will put in jeopardy the sponsorship agreement and finances that the club relies on to survive.

The Rock may be run with undue care for investor’s money, but they are very generous with it to Geordie sport teams. A situation that is unlikely to continue if the rebrand to Virgin Money takes place. Does a man on a never ending ego trip that makes Mohamed Fayed look media shy really care about being a Geordie bailiff or the institutions that hold this desert like land together? I doubt it.

Kallis gives Pakistan The Death

Jacques Kallis has scored his third century of the series against Pakistan to take the Saffers into a commanding position in the fourth day of the second test.

With his partner, Graeme Smith, who also notched up a hundred to his name, extended South Africa’s led to an impregnable 450 odd. He did this by a gradual, wearing grind. As always.

There were some who supported such an approach to twenty20 matches. It was the winning strategy in some games. Maybe South Africa could have used this approach, given that they badly flopped below their potential in the tournament.

Yet Kallis was dropped from the Proteas’ twenty20 squad because he was too boring. I don’t think they could have done much worse, to be honest. You might as well pick your best player, eh?

Kallis, however, bravely moaned like an eight year-old, but also mopped around Pakistan for a bit, scoring centuries left-right-and-centre to show he’s pretty good at cricket. Not just when faced by minnows, but he can play serious opposition too.

The man is much maligned, and unfairly so. I think he should move to Derby and captain England’s rugby team. Talking of which, did you know that England knocked Australia out of the World Cup?

Sri Lanka meekly crumble

Apparently, therefore, they should inherent the Earth. So perhaps this is a crafty trick to win the next World Cup? I doubt it, though.

In a deflating performance, Sri Lanka lost the match and the series to the inferior and more rubbisher England side.

The Lankans got off to a dreadful start, with the first three wickets falling for just twenty runs. Although Kumar Sangakkara and Chamara Silva put on a defiant 126-run stand, the England seamers dominated their innings.

In reply, Alastair Cook dug in for a characteristically dogged 80 off 123 balls, and KP looked similarly gritty before unleashing a flurry of boundaries to bring England home and record his first fifty in literally donkies.

The Sri Lankan’s lack of application has rather deflated the meaning of this series. It is as if the relentlessness of international cricket has worn their desire down to the size of my weekly pay-cheque.

This is understandable, if even predictable. Perhaps England played a master-stroke by brining in previous outsiders, untainted by the endurances of past defeats. They arrive, fresh-faced, keen and surprised as heck to be there and clean up.

Just look at Graeme Swann. Carefully crafted by the great dibbly-dobbly factories of no-where in particular, like a customised, pimped-up Jamie Dalrymple, and yet he dominants one of the best teams in ODIs in all areas of the game.

How on Earth is an honest, if bitter, blogger supposed to respond to such things?

By swearing, that’s how. Bollocks.

Wait, England won! I suppose I should be pleased. I am, in a way. Mainly because I have a lovely glass of wine in front of me, and my boss is away for the next fortnight. But anyway, well done boys. You clearly know a lot more about cricket than I do, which hasn’t always been the case.

Hair cuts short

Daryl Hair has dropped his case against the ICC. In dramatic scenes at the Tribunal in London nothing happened today as the barristers decanted themselves to a local pub to count their fee.

One legal representative was quoted to have said:

“Bringing international cricket into chaos is the best way to bring home the bacon. And what bacon! Have you seen the size of my meat?”

Apparently, some evidence was given that proves Hair has been talking bollocks. It was shown that he was never offered money in return for silent compliance.

Nevertheless, the case has thrown open a can of worms at the ICC – this was possibly the reason why Hair took the action he did.

The trial has exposed the Council’s unprofessional practices present at all levels. With key meetings not being minuted in case they “end up in court” the case has revealed the ICC’s amateurish and poorly run infrastructure.

Poor communication is rife. And senior management conducts itself through gentlemanly agreements, ignoring the need for transparent and accountable procedures.

The only member of the executive board to have retained his reputation is Malcolm Speed (interestingly, the only such member to have any professional experience outside cricket). He claims that his actions were ham-strung by his poor relationship with the Indians, who would have refused to co-operate a priori to any of his supposedly reasonable requests.

It was precisely this reactionary, high-personalised set-up that got the ICC into this position, and resulted in Hair’s poor treatment. For that, we must applaud that otherwise twatish Hair.

Weirdly, he is now on a “rehabilitation programme”. Well, he has put on a lot of weight in the last thirty years. He must be an alcy.

Australia crushed like tiny shrimps

Continuing the theme of Antipodean sporting defeat, Australia were battered by the mighty Indians. Snapping defeat from the jaws of victory, the Aussos looked well set at 122-1, with the first hundred coming in just 13 overs. Both Matthew Hayden (92) and Andrew Symonds (75) looked dominant.

And then, for no particular reason, they lost. Not only did they lose, but they FAILED as well. Knowing this, humanity wept with joy and sacrificed many goats to the gods of justice and incompetence.

I rather suspect supernatural involvement. Unwittingly, the entire population of mankind (if you are feeling generous with your definitions, excluding Australians from this class) were sending a mental message to the boys in Tacky Yellow: Lose.

It appears to have rubbed off on the rugby too. Which is excellent.

Other noteworthy events was Sachin Tendulkar’s breaking of the most fifties in ODIs record. Surpassing Inzamam-ul-Haq's 83 by one. This isn’t bad. Especially by someone who has looked “out-of-sorts” for the last year or so.

When I look “out-of-sorts” it usually means I have to pull another sicky at work, and spend all day thinking about eating cornflakes. By Tendulkar goes out and breaks cricketing records. I am, in many ways, inferior to Tendulkar. I bet he doesn’t have his own blog though. Loser.

Tyin’ in Notts

Graeme Swann is infuriatingly good. Match-winningly good, in fact. It’s not for these reasons that I don’t like him. No. My problem with Graeme Swann is that he is not Monty Panesar.

Worse still, England won a match. This reinforces the misconception that Monty should not be played in all matches, and be given the ball at every opportunity. The more Swann plays, the less likely it is that Panesar will open the batting.

Swann complements well with his Nottingham shire team-mates, Stuart Broad and Ryan Hairybottom. The mid-lands trio took nine wickets and scored 52 runs.

However, the chief reason for England’s victory was Sri Lanka looking out of sorts. Sure, the pitch was hopeless and the ball moved around like a dysfunctional gypsy family, but they’re a quality outfit. They should be able to see off difficult patches.

I suspect some anti-Monty match-fixing was going on. It can be the only explanation for England’s success. Heck, they certainly don’t have the talent. It’s just not natural that they win.

An England victory always makes me feel a bit dirty. No. Not that kind of dirty.

Thankfully, my mood improves with the knowledge that Fiji lasted longer than Australia in the Rugby World Cup. It was a good job that a rubbish team knocked out those Ausslers.

South Africa look a bit better, really

In the first test of the serious, South Africa beat Pakistan by 168 runs at Karachi. Jacques Kallis scored two centuries; Shaun Pollock was dropped; Mark Boucher broke keeping records; and Inzamam-ul-Haq announced his retirement from international cricket.

So there’s lots to talk about. So, feel free to go to the pubs and chat these things over with some mates.

I like it when Pakistan play South Africa. There’s a parity between their standards, but I also have them both marked as “mercurial” and “occasionally brilliant”. You never are quite sure what’s going to happen.

Normally, Pakistan tend to blink first, and South Africa manage to squeeze home. However, this series promise a new era for Pakistan cricket: consistency and dedication.

Shoaib Akhtar looks finished, Younis Khan has become a Yorkshireman, Inzy is off and Mohammed Yousef’s retirement loaming. The big names of Pakistani cricket are moving off, but also allowing in a new age of apparently “reliable” cricket.

Judging by this first match, they’re still liable to fall into the ridiculous (opening with Kamran Akmal was a little….unexpected), but you cannot fault their ambition. Although OLD Abdur Rehman looked pretty handy, picking up eight wickets in his debut test. It’s alright though, spinners can be old.

So, all in all, I’m looking forward to the rest of the series. Yeah…I don’t want to big it up too much, though; it might be rubbish, and then you’ll blame me.

Snakes and dogs attack England

In a week of biblical plagues, the heathen Englanders managed a win despite the wrath of a vengeful god. The England captain, Paul Collingwood, was bitten and killed by a poisonous cobra during nets.

Fortunately, although dead, England selected his cadaver as a fifth bowler, and his body was supernaturally re-enliven by the slobber of local stray dogs. It is thought that they were attracted to a Colly on heat.

In other news, England won a cricket match. Well done them.

They won by boring the batsman out of their wickets. Annoyingly, Graeme Swann bowled with maturity and batted sensibly. His irritatingly competent performance is likely to keep Monty out of the series.

People are also saying a lot about Owais Shah. Mainly because his match-winning century against India is still fresh in the memory, and when people score big in a handful of games it means they’re the next Don Bradman. Or, in ODI parlance, “the new Michael Beavan”.

I think that Shah is the new Kevin Pietersen, in that he gets runs where as most of his colleagues cock up. Whereas KP is the new Shah of Iran, despite having plenty of support, he is over-thrown by fundamentalist zealots and exiled to foreign country cosseted by Western indulgences.

Mustard also looked good. I’d still like to see Jack Russell in the position.

Australias look at Indians and laugh

In a seemingly relentless barrage of international matches, one blogger picks a game at random and tries to talk about it. Will this blogger make a stand? Well, momentarily.

I did wonder why so many people were complaining about the length of the World Cup. I thought that it was great. It is a WORLD Cup. It should be massive. Like the world.

But this dizzying torrent of ODIs overwhelms even the most fanatical of fans.

Take the England team, for example. After a seven match series against India, they had approximately a day’s rest before heading over to SA for the twenty20 fiasco. A day after this was completed, England’s finest shot off to Sri Lanka to receive another hiding.

Obviously, this constant battering leaves no window to breath, or even hope. It is a continuum of pain, with only a Zimbabwe for rest-bite.

I vaguely remember kingcricket moaning about the specialness of test cricket being removed through over-familiarity. I endorse these sentiments, and suggest they are equally applicable to all areas of international cricket. But it's especially applicable to England, who just lose all the time.

Anyway, moaning aside. Australia won another game. All Indians, except MS Dhoni, crumbled like an under-educated girl in a stock broker’s office. India: pull your socks off. The Aussies must be defeated.

England fall to pieces

The one-day trick still isn’t working for England. They have fielded more than forty players since 2005 (apparently) in their limited overs set-up, and decided to use some more in Phil Mustard and Graeme Swann. Neither proved particularly incompetent, nor were they match-winning.

Mustard was chosen out of necessity more than anything, and Swann was preferred over Monty Panesar because He Bats A Bit, and England can’t understand spinners that don’t bat. Lordy Lordy Lordy, I HATE YOU ENGLAND CRICKET TEAM.

Not really. It’s more that they really piss me off. It’s like the people who hand you out free papers in the morning, although you don’t mind taking tit-bits off them occasionally, you just want to batter them to death with their own product sometimes.

Anyway, lets cut to the pain. England lost again. They lost to a better team, that was better. Also, our team can’t cope with the warmth; England players just turn bright red in the heat and collectively transform into a drugged-out geriatric women.

In fairness, Mustard looked…the mustard. Ryan Hairybottom looked useless. Others failed as well, we all know who they are. Don’t we?

On the other hand, Sri Lanka looked excellent. Mahela Jayawardene struck an impressive 66 and Sanath Jayasuriya still keeps going. Where were they during the World Cup, though, eh? What’s the point of being good if no one can get any decent bet-money out of them?

All in all, Ayalac says: rubbish.

Darrell Hair lives the dream

Let’s face it. We all want to sue the IC-bloody-C. For instance, yesterday, I bought a packet of biscuits. However, to my horror, I found that Malcolm Speed had interfered with my Ginger Nuts, and replaced the packet’s contents with sub-standard digestives.

When I spoke to my solicitor about this, he mentioned something about “evidence” to “prove” ICC’s outrageous assault upon my personage and biscuitage. Dumbfounded, I was left marooned to absorb another blow by cricket’s governing body.

Darrell Hair, on the other hand, thinks he has the proof and balls to succeed where I failed, by suing the ICC.

This popular and jovial umpire bases his argument on the proceedings of the 1814 Test Match, between England and Pakistan. Whereby, without at clear substantiation, he accused the Pakistan of tampering with the ball. In protest, Pakistan’s captain refused to take the field. Hair and Billy Doctrove took the decision to interpret the match as forfeit, awarding England default winners.

Subsequently, the ICC took umbrage at the umpire’s handling of the affair, and removed Hair from its elite panel of amazing umpires. Doctrove, however, remained. Hair now argues that he was removed on the basis of racial discrimination, what else could explain Doctrove’s continuation?

It is generally accepted that Hair doesn’t have a chance in hell. The ICC’s case rests on the principle that Hair was the “senior umpire”, whereas Doctrove was just beginning his test career, and thus responsibility cannot be evenly divided.

Yet, I can find no reference to the status of a “senior umpire” in the laws of cricket nor anywhere mentioned in the ICC’s literature. This principle, to me, makes no sense. For the same offence, you must treat the perpetrators equally.

Saying that, this uneven handling of the umpires does not equate discrimination. I’m not sure under which jurisdiction this case is being conducted, but in UK law you must prove a discriminatory intent to prove racial discrimination. This simply does not seem present, given the evidence.

Hair has long courted controversy, and this affair could have been the straw that broke the camel’s back for the ICC. Whereas it seemed sufficient to give Doctrove a good ticking off.

Undoubtedly, the issuing of legal proceedings and the employment of a silk will not be cheap for Hair. Nor will he win the case. But, I suspect, neither of these matter to Hair.

Fun is banned

The new ECB head, Giles Clarke, has decided to outlaw all fun within the England cricket team.

In a surprising first move, he has acted to attack England's “unprofessionalism” going on to say Andrew Flintoff and Paul Collingwood should have received bans for their moments of madness.

“We're not going to get proper athletes and a decent team if people do not have the right attitude as professionals in their sport.”

This is a bit weird. Professionalism is about acted in a reasonable and respectable manner at work. Outside work time is private time. The professionalism lies in not allowing your private realm of messed up ideas and broken brains to negatively impact upon your plain work persona. Neither Flintoff or Collingwood allowed pedelos or breasts to affect their performance at work.

So what’s the problem?

You might say that a little-known businessman who likes to talk too much may have a publicity problem. Talking nonsense to the press is one way of rectifying that issue.

Ayalac is all for drunken cricketers. There should be more role models like that: people who can’t handle their booze and get stuck in light water-craft; people who pay to see nude wrigglers. That’s the stuff this nation is built upon. And we should be proud.

Somerset wins, or so it seems!

Hurrah! In possibly the best news since VJ day, the best county in the land secured victory in the Second Division of the county championship, and thus earned promotion to the land of the big boys.

Actually, Somerset managed this a few weeks ago, such was their dominance. They won the championship with a massive 266 points, and about a jillion games to spare. They only lost one game, as well.

Indeed, so impressive was their performance, that we might be tempted to suppose that the West Country Heroes were perhaps the best side this season. Sadly, we will never know, because Somerset were in the wrong division.

It reflects badly on the county system, when the best side in the championship cannot prove their supremacy. Indeed, Somerset earned the wooden spoon last year around, perhaps this is just a blip?

But blips is what the English domestic season does best. The seemingly inexplicable ebb and flow of county fortunes is part of its attraction. Once useless sides like Durham advance into mature, assertive forces, whereas champions, such as Nottinghamshire, quickly fade into obscurity.

Such an unpredictable scene does not lend itself well to the two-division model. But, undoubtedly given the increasing number of limited-overs commitments, it is here to stay. Next year, maybe Somerset can retain their authority and crush all those that dare to challenge their might.

Hurrah for Somerset! Hurrah! Hurrah!

Sussex wins, or so it seems

In a championship with so many up-and-downs that most fans felt a little ill by the end of it, Sussex clinched county glory despite Lancashire’s brave efforts.

In a thrilling finale, Lancashire came 25 agonising runs short of an epic run-chase against Surrey, that would have secured them the championship. 489, however, proved just too much for the Northern monkeys, and the championship trophy rightfully remained in the South. Where it belongs.

Saying that, for most of the summer, I was convinced that Yorkshire were going to win. But injuries, international duty and a pie glut saw their hopes fade. Weirdly, as Yorkshire receded, four other teams advanced, with Surrey, Hampshire and even Durham in with a shout.

Nevertheless, the side with the best spin bowler in the country won. And what do we learn from this? Always pack a spin bowler, or at least, as Lancashire have recently learnt when you’ve got one, don’t break it, or let it out of the country.

Even if he looks like an over-weight garden gnome, with the weirdest bowling action since Paul Adams, he must be kept at any costs. Even if it meant bullying out other team members.

Well done everyone in Sussex. I used to live in Sussex. I suppose I should be pleased. But it’s raining, I have a hang-over and I have to go to work. It’s not going to happen.

India wins, or so it seems

No one really cares. Not even a billion Indians. However, the match twisted and turned. Or so I read. I didn’t really watch it. In protest of losing my bet, and decrying the banality of the ultra-shortened format, I boycotted the affair.

Is acceptable to say that India were the best team in the tournament/championship/wasteoftime? After all, Australia, Pakistan and Sri Lanka won more matches than they.

Do we see India’s elevation into the highest of limited-over achievement a reflection of sporting justice? Well, taking my claims that twenty20 is a cricketing equivalent to “spin the bottle”, no one would have deserved any plaudits if they won.

But I’m no mean bastard. Well done India. You lucky sods.

Guest blog: This article contains disturbing imagery.

Here's a special blog, from Our Man in Durham:

Being an arm chair cricket fan, having an appreciation for wit and awful at making puns, I have long intended to write a comment on this illustrious website. However, a lack of confidence in my intellectual cricket brain, passing out after consumption of too much cider and working long hours for a high street bank that will remain nameless, have contrived to delay my debut. Not any more. The focusing that being alone in a flat in the north east for two days can only achieve, I present my thoughts on the current state of cricket.

twenty20. I must admit I only realised that we were near the end of the twenty20 world cup when I returned from a week in Spain on Tuesday. You see cricket especially twenty20 doesn’t get much or no coverage on CNN. The one time I remember it being mentioned in a week of watching this godforsaken channel was in the context of England losing. No surprise there and I suppose the mentioning of England losing at cricket is so unsurprising it just gets lost in the background.

My fondest memory of the twenty20 world cup will be the old ginger one’s antics. He will be pleased to know that Durham’s first ever strip club is opening next week. It begs the question that irrespective of playing cricket, is everyone who plays for England, barring Michael Vaughan who I am sure is a true gentleman, a complete Muppet? No wonder Marcus Trescothick is depressed, the thought of spending a week let alone the majority of the year with these people is enough to make anyone ring the Samaritans.

You’re probably thinking what a prude; it was only a strip club? But my argument is that if that had been the England football or rugby captain it would have been front page news for a week. No because it is cricket and everyone knows we are crap and with the fredalo incident cricket has become a bit of a laughing stock. It’s so bad it would even make front page of the News of the World.

So what do we want our crickets to be? There has been much comment, including on this illustrious site that we need to be more tough/Australian/bastard. I think that this new found strategy illustrated by our disgraceful behaviour when playing India is shocking. We just look like a nation of cheap chavs, which I suppose we are. Australia can get away with it. They win. No one minds who warnie is texting. If we started to get the results on the pitch I would fully support ginger getting down and dirty with those strippers in a pedlo and half a bag of coke. A small price to pay.

Twenty20: The randomness reigns

In an unexpected turn-around, India beat South Africa by enough runs to knock them out of the whole bloody tournament. Despite losing their star batsman, Yuvraj Singh, who fell over his cat during a practice session, India prospered under the steely determination of one Rohit Sharma (50) who saw them to a decent total.

South Africa’s reply was rubbish. This is why they lost.

So frustrated by their ineptitude, that the Saffer wicket keeper, Mark Boucher, began to slap the faces of surrounding players with his glove, followed by some sound punching and then he tripped them up with a cricket bat which has recently grown from his mid-rift.

In another match, the Australians continued their domination of non-Zimbabwean countries, and saw off Sri Lanka, who were sabotaged by over-optimistic batting. Both Sri Lanka and South Africa are knocked out, leaving fans supporting teams beginning with the letter “S” reeling.

The semi-finals are thus constituted:

Australia vs. India
New Zealand vs. Pakistan

I was going to toss a coin to “predict” all the results of tournament. Then I realised how many games there were, and how lazy I was, so I didn’t. Now the work-load is a manageable three games, I shall now provide you with the full results. Let the tossing begin!

Australia heads: heads it is. Australia will win its semi. New Zealand heads: tails. Pakistan wins. And now the final. Australia heads: heads it is. Australia wins the bloody thing.

Wasn’t that exciting? I didn’t even cheat. It could have saved you a lot of money if you just flipped a coin, instead of paying for an expensive ticket out to South Africa. Still, at least you get to enjoy the beauty of SA’s most refined city: Johannesburg.

England beaten by stick cricketers

Well, the final indignity is metered out to English fans everywhere, and, in one small mercy, England are knocked out of the twenty20 World Championship by a rampant India, and the pain can stop.

In a performance reminiscent of stick cricket, Yuvraj Singh played possibly the best innings in limited-over history, by striking a blistering, crashing, tumultuous 58 runs off…. 16 balls. Yes, you read that correctly; 16 balls.

This astonishing feat was aided by six sixes from Stuart Broad’s final over. Apparently, this achievement has been recorded three times in international cricket, not least by Hershelle Gibbs recently, but this was off quality opposition, and under some pressure. Yuvraj ignored all this, and simply battered England.

It is testament to his innings that England, despite putting in an unusually spirited run-chase, never seemed close. Indeed, that they lost by only 18 runs shows you the importance of this lunatic hitting.

It is really an unimaginably amazing achievement. I don’t even think I’ve struck that on a computer game; even when I put it on “easy” and practice it for hours and hours whilst pretending to work.

This man hits a cricket ball cleaner than I can click a mouse.

This one innings rather softened the blow of England’s defeat. I may have something to say about that, but for now I’m happy to revel in the impossibility of what has just happened.

In other good news, Australia lost to an incredible charge Shoaib Malik and Misbah-ul-Haq, who put on 119 together in a seemingly doomed situation. An Australia loss is just as good as an England victory in my books. Sadly, neither of these things are particularly likely. But we must be grateful for what we can get.

We must also be thankful that Scotland are so bad. This brings me great pleasure.

Bored of watching England lose?

Feel the weight of the world on your shoulders? Depressed by the constant failure of those around you? Ginger?

Un-wind, relax and go to a strip-club on your own. It is the only way that you can take your mind of the relentless hum of defeat.

England prove that gambling is wrong

Well, there goes my hard-earned £10. Thanks very much England cricket team.

Once again, England threw away a strong position, and contrived to knock themselves out of the tournament, by losing to New Zealand by five runs. After a solid start from the openers, England found themselves 62 for the loss of no wicket chasing 164.

This was always England’s match. A good bowling performance restricted the Kiwis to a reasonable score. Darren Maddy played unexpectedly well by destroying the New Zealand middle order by taking two wickets and effecting a run-out in one over. His fifty was also class.

The loss of Pratty Prior seemed to be a real benefit, with Vikram Solanki keeping and batting well. Maybe he’s someone that we could consider as a serious long term replacement? You can’t get much worse than the current wicket keeping standards, and there’s certainly superior batting there.

Anyway, what is important is England’s lameness. Their total inability to drive home the advantage. Their incompetence. Their lack of ruthlessness. Their crapness. All these factors converge to deny me my rightful winnings from the bookies.

England, heed these words: You Are Rubbish.

I’m not in that bad a mood though. Even though I listened to England’s defeat over the radio, I got to listen to the TMS theme tune at the end of the broadcast. It is impossible not to feel great after listening to that.

EVERYONE: tap-tap tap tap tip-tip tip tap tap DAH-DAH! DAH DAAH!!!

DAH DAH-DAH DAAAH DAH-DAH-DAH!

Victory slips through England’s hands

England should have beaten South Africa. In stead, they opted for defeat. They managed this intriguing tactic by a number of means: dropping a major wicket at every opportunity and refusing to hit boundaries.

This revolutionary approach to the twenty20 format successfully ensured a loss.

The South African responded by saying, “ha ha ha” and later added, “we beat you at rugby.” They didn’t see it coming, to be honest, look at the surprise on Shaun Pollock’s face.

Why it is, when the England team apparently look alright, they construe to be woeful? I don’t know. I’m especially annoyed because I decided to put my money where my mouth is, and backed the buggers to the tune of £10. I should have plugged for Australia, at 4/1. £40 would hae come in handy...

Interestingly, after projected my thoughts to Paul Collingwood he actually adhered to my advice. Firstly, he decided to field first, which I think is probably the best approach to twenty20. Secondly, he constantly fiddled his bowlers, with most spells lasting no longer than an over. It gave the batsman limited time to line-up the bowlers – and they struggled especially with the quicks.

However, my favourite, Chris Schofield was the difference between the teams. The South Africans battered the slow bowlers (with the leggie going for three consecutive sixes at one point). Whereas England had no similar easy weakling to score heavily off.

I think that the most successful approach to twenty20 would be flexibility. It may be an idea to go to a ground with a squad of say 14, and then whittle it down eleven based on the conditions. Bowling another quick in Schofield’s place yesterday may have secured England the match, and given the conditions, one could have foreseen this.

Twenty20 is about quick thinking and adaptability. Listening to commentary it is crazy how unself-conscious the describers are. One over a bowler is bowling “dreadfully” and literally the following over he’s a “hero”. Things change so quickly that the players need to learn to adapt to changing circumstances quickly.

They also need oodles of luck.

Bang-Lee-dead

Australia are proving to be very good at twenty20, as well as ugly. Bangladesh were battered by 9 wickets, with Australia reaching their target in just 13 overs.

The vomit yellows continued to pin-down the opposition and Brett Lee probing spell was rewarded with a hat-trick, the first in twenty20 history. And even he has a baby Boon belly.

Bangladesh were never in this match. Their tightly organised and disciplined approach to defeat the West Indies dissipated under the Aussie big guns. It was so boring it felt as if I was watching a football match.

Bangladesh really need to pull themselves together. There was some poor captaincy shown, and this is reflective of the lack of leadership in the side. There are few big names, but they are a solid team. Personalities need to come to the fore when you’re playing Australia.

When Matthew Hayden strode out to the crease and started battering them off the park, his physical dominance highlighted Bangladesh’s lack of mental authority. They collectively wilted when the match became difficult. The only thing they are lacking at the moment is steel. They have the skill and ability to beat any side in cricket, they just need the will to get there.

In a much better match, New Zealand beat India by 10 runs. It is difficult to know why India lost this match. It was very close, but both teams lost wickets at regular intervals. No, it was luck, really. Just random events conspiring together to produce a result. Not much point even trying. Everyone should just have a cup of tea in stead. In fact, I’m going to put on a brew now.

Hooray for tea!

Pakistan fail to hit a barn door

Of course, by “barn door” I mean the wickets. They couldn’t hit the wickets. Not even when they were trying to.

India earned the Ayalac seal of approval yesterday by beating Pakistan and thus knocking out the evil and probably corrupt Scots.

Moreover, the game itself was pretty good. A blinding 4-18 by the junky-no-more Mohammed Asif blew away the Indian upper-order. Robin Uthappa (50) and MS Dhoni (33) responded well to post a respectable 141.

Pakistan didn’t fair much better, with the Indian seamers bowling fairly well without having much twenty20 experience. Funny that. Anyway, some bloke I’ve never heard of scored a half-century, but, in sensational circumstances, the scored was tied on the final ball.

I was rather bemused by this. But in the wilds of the English countryside, they have a solution for such a problem: a bowl out. This was invented by strange bumpkins would had nothing better to do with they time other than bowling at unguarded stumps in the rain.

So inspired by the genius of this absurd ritual, the ICC (oh holy of smolies) copied the ridiculous procedure. And thus India won by three bowls out to zero. That’s right, the highly paid, experience and “good” bowlers of Pakistan could not even hit the stumps.

Some people say that “it’s really hard”. Because “there’s no batsman”. To them I say “shut up” and beat them with a rolled up newspaper. It is hard for us, because we’re crap; it’s easy for them, because they’re good. In fact, they’re in the side because they aren’t as crap as everyone else in their country.

They spend hours every day trying to hit the stumps. They don’t go to work, answer annoying emails or even pop around the shops for some milk. No, they spend every waking moment either practicing hitting stumps or thinking about hitting stumps. Pakistan: its time to invest in some spectacles.

England tossed up and eaten in salad

If Zimbabwe are better than Australia and England are better than Zimbabwe, then… Australia are better than England. That’s how crazy twenty20 is, it refutes Leibniz’s law.

England were supremely dispatched by Australia today, in a performance eerily similar to the same drubbing dished out in the other World Cup, held last week. Australia’s bowlers, although never seeming that dangerous, pinned England back to a low total. A score which proved an easy chase.

England’s chances of knocking out the Ausslers from the tournament rested on winning the toss and putting the Canaries into bat. This, Paul Collingwood duly did, but then decided that hara-kiri was the better part of valour, and opted to bat first. Australia obliged to England’s suicidal request, and accordingly put them to the sword.

Interestingly, it was the county twiddlers that proved the weakest component of the English set-up. The apparent experts in handling the demands of the format, crumbled at the first sign pressure.

Luke Wright failed ago, Darren Maddy failed to press on, Dimitri Mascarenhas looked less than intimidating and Chris Schofield reminded us all why he was dropped seven years ago. Rather, it was the international stalwarts that provided the backbone of England’s performance. It would be premature to say that the specialised dibbly-dobbly attack has failed, but it’s not looking dominant.

None of this matters though, because the Australians are wearing...that, that yellow thing. Watching them pranch around like yesterday's manky bananas makes the losing all worth while.

The India-Pakistan match looks good. We need to make sure that India wins, however. Otherwise, Scotland may go through. And that would be like Pol Pot winning the lottery.

Let’s try not to gloat

Many petty minded people would gloat because Australia lost to Zimbabwe, which is an intrinsically hilarious event. I am above such things.

I am not above saying I TOLD YOU SO, however. Let’s quote yesterday’s post:

I wouldn’t be surprised if Zimbabwe beat the Aussies. Or even won the World Bloody Championship.

And so it was. Australia, the mighty World Cup holding, Ashes Urn bearing monsters of the Antipodes were slain by teeny-weeny Zimbabwe.

Australia didn't lose because I made them, my Predictoron powers don't really apply in the twenty20 world, but because the randomness of the format did its thing. There was some skill shown by the Zimmers, but, you know, so what? Yeah?

Many people having been asking where The Predictoron went. Maybe I should bring it back for the new World Cup, they asked.

But, as stated elsewhere, you can’t actually predict the outcome of twenty20 matches. What you really need is a random number generator, and get that to crunch some stochastic statistics.

Of course, it would be absurd to say that the twenty20 was a ridiculous waste of time, where a bunch of blokes mess about on a field where strange, unexpected events emerge from tiny cricket vortexes to produce previously shocking results. It would be more correct to say: twenty20 is rubbish.

In other news, the terrifying Bangladesh knocked out the West Indies from the World Championship. Was that because the West Indies are terrible at batting? No, they’re pretty good at that. Awful at bowling? No, they’re ok. Dreadful fielders? Well, yes, but that really isn’t a decisive issue.

No, they simply received a bad role of the dice. They lost through bad luck.

Gayle gets runs with a bat

Although there has been a lot of truthful raging against the rubbishness of twenty20, I somehow found myself of being enthralled by one of those bastard matches.

I was mainly drawn in by the incredible batting of Chris Gayle. He managed to bludgeon the South African attack for 117 in just 57 balls – heaving 10 sixes in the process.

What compelled me to watch an otherwise impoverished format was the crazed, unorthodox stroke play. The photo is a case in point. He is standing well outside his leg-stump, standing tall and flays a cross-the-line slog. Even when the bowlers altered their line to follow him, he managed to adjust at the last minute and still club them for six, despite being totally out of position. Astonishing.

It is testament to his innings that the rest of his team affected a near-collapse after the fall of the wicket. The Windies’ inability to follow-up this foundation with an impregnable score rather gave the momentum to the Saffers.

The West Indies’ effort was also stymied by the disintegration of their fielding. I counted three drops that were near to dollies as you could ask in international cricket. Nevertheless, the random swinging of the bat by South Africa proved successful, and they eventually won by a handsome margin.

In other news, Kenya received a thumping by the hands of New Zealand. Mainly thanks to their new overweight bowler Mark Gillespie, who equalled The Atheist’s career best with 4-7. Kenya lost because the Kiwis spiked their tea – they put too much milk in, which would seriously affect anyone’s mental condition.

I am still standing by my randomness thesis. There will be plenty of upsets. I wouldn’t be surprised if Zimbabwe beat the Aussies. Or even won the World Bloody Championship.

20/1 against

The twenty-bloody-20 starts tomorrow. We in Ayalac try not to care. We are, however, obsessed with cricket. It is a difficult battle.

So, in a possibly meaningless warm-up game, South Africa defeated Australia. Mainly by bowling “swing" but also with an impressive batting performance by Graeme Smith. What does mean for the tournament? Nothing much really.

You see, it is all a part of the randomness that constitutes the format. Skill and knowledge aren’t really applicable, so there is no point in getting too excited about it. Those who are gamblers may fancy a few “out-side” bets, as bookers are sure to offer over-generous odds for unfancied side.

A quick scan on betfred.com revealed the Aussies to be firm favourites at 2/1. Which is frankly ludicrous. Whereas South Africa (4/1) and Sri Lanka (7/1) may offer reasonable rewards – even England (8/1) offer a good value bet. (Hence, a little £10 stake on his home country by The Atheist.)

However, where I think you may clean up is in the one-to-one bets. For instance, you can pick up Kenya beating Australia at 9/1, which is much more likely an occurrence than you would think.

Similar odds are offered in this tournament than in the World Cup, but this is an error by the bookies. Remember, the key rule to betting on twenty20 is bare in mind that odd-generation does not take into account the inherent stochastic nature of the format. That is to say, the outcome is as good as evens before the match begins. With this in mind, better value odds are evident and enables the keen punter to make a tidy profit.

(Ayalac does not encourage reckless gambling. Spending money costs lives.)

England seal the deal with a kiss.

By “kiss” I mean a convincing victory, not that, you perv. In perhaps the most boring match of the series so far, England’s fiery bowlers skittled the Indian batsmen for not-much, and half-centuries from Kevin Pietersen and Paul Collingwood saw England home comfortably.

To be honest, this match didn’t really interest me much. I was left rather exhausted by the seven-match series, which has produced some spectacular performances from both sides. But as I was painting doors in the garden, whilst vaguely listening to the absent-minded TMS commentary, I briefly consider ed tuning in to the Afternoon Play.

Rest assured that the moment of madness quickly dissipated, but it is saying a lot when an obsessive and slightly sad cricket fan like myself is getting tired of the great game. But it was a bit deflating, really.

Don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t a walk over. India tried hard. But a combination of tour fatigue and general lethargy ensured the defeat in the game, and ultimately the series. Gautam Gambhir looked good with the bat and in the field, but his name was too much like a country for him to hold much influence in the game.

Cricketers whose names sound like countries:

Gautam Gambhir.
John Holland.
Malcolm Marshall Islands.
Bruce French.
Monty Panama.

Shoaib Akhtar throws a wobbly.

Yesterday, Shoaib Akhtar apparently attacked fellow fast bowler Mohammed Asif with a cricket bat. The Pakistan Cricket Board swiftly acted to send him packing from the twenty20 world championship.

I suspect that Shoaib knew how rubbish the tournament was going to be, and tried to fight his way out. But the mighty thigh of Asif proved too much, and it repelled Shoaib’s frenzied escape.

As an unexpected side-effect, Shoaib’s conduct was seen as unacceptable, and thus he was sent back home. PCB chief executive Shafqat Nagmi.

"No one will be spared if he flouts the rules and team spirit. What has happened is something that has shocked us."

Yes, it was rather pathetic if hilarious behaviour, but who could blame him, what with the impending rubbishness.

Although, it is rather crazed, given that he has only just returned to the side after a two-year ban was quashed. You think that you would be on best behaviour. Well, you would if you were sane.

He’s also 32, which, by Stuart Broad’s standards, is pretty old. Shouldn’t he know that fighting your way out with a cricket bat is not effective? You’ve got to tunnel, man. Use the box.

India tie the series

In possibly the best match of the series so far, India dramatically clinched the NatWest series in a last-over thriller. Thanks mainly to the efforts of Robin Uthappa, who was just brought in as an extra batsman, won the match with a blinding 47 off 33.

Let us remember that the match wouldn’t have even been close if it wasn’t for Dimitri Mascarenhas’ freakish 30-run over at the end. Luke White also gave an impressive performance with a confident fifty on his debut, with a strike rate of 128. Owais Shah also proved his class, with his first ODI century.

Nonetheless, the day belonged to the Indians. With a 150 opening partnership and a 90 for man-of-the-match Sachin Tendulkar, India always looked in control with this difficult run-chase.

In fairness, with over ten-an-over required at one point, this should have been England’s game. And with the loss of MS Dhoni, India’s defeat looked imminent. But with Uthappa’s steady hand, India somehow managed an unlikely victory. Perhaps there was some naïve bowling, and ball-chasing by the captain, but it was the bravery of the Indians that saw this game through.

Let us also remember the brave little tail-enders, Ajit Agarkar and Zaheer Khan, who scarified their wickets, so that India may live on.

Really, it was the rabbits that won this game. If only it could have been so in my career.

Andrew Flintoff’s career

Once again, Andrew Flintoff has been declared unfit because of his old ankle injury. It looks likely that he will miss the rest of the NatWest Series and the Twenty20 World Championship. On top of recent niggles with Dorset Knee and missing the entire test summer, Flintoff has had an unfortunate spell.

He is a big chap. And he bowls fast. Consequently, his lower joints and feet are under a lot of strain. This is a pity because, at the moment, he looks like our best one-day bowler. Indeed, he took a career-best of 5 for 56 the other day against India.

The question is, however, how long can this continue? If you are losing one player to constant injury, then it has a pernicious effect on the side’s morale. Moreover, you cannot invest in a long-term replacement for the man; you’ve only got a nearly-man struggling to secure his space. On top of that, you’ve constant arguments about who to replace Flintoff: another all-rounder? A batsman or bowler or what?

There comes a point when the destabilising effects of a missing man out-weighs the positive influence of his presence. I’m not sure we have reached that point with Flintoff yet, but it is something that needs to be considered.

Indeed, more important for Flintoff personally, is his test career. It appears that his body is struggling to cope with the strain of a one-day much. But how will it cope with bowling 70 overs in a test match?

Do you remember the end of Darren Gough’s career? He was our best fast bowler for a generation, and a vital part of England’s attack. A long-term injury had him out of the side for about a year, I think. When he returned, to much heralding and cheering from England fans, he looked a little under-cooked. There was a noticeable lack of pace. He was past his best, and his international career petered out into a sad slump.

No one really wants that to happen to Flintoff. But people need to think seriously about his long-term prospects.

The Twenty20 World Cup

Don’t get too excited. You won’t seem many posts here about this event.

I will, allow, however, a few mocking posts, snidely sniping from afar. Let us consider the injury list:

Ravi Bopara – widely regarded as the world’s best twenty20 player.
Andrew Flintoff – widely regarded as the world’s best all-rounder.
Jacques Kallis – widely regarded as a better all-rounder than Flintoff.
Ricky Ponting – widely regarded as smug and a bit daft in the head.

Some of the other missing players are:

Shane Watson
Muttiah Muralitharan
Sachin Tendulkar
Rahul Dravid
Stephen Fleming
Mohammad Yousuf
Inzamam-ul-Haq

That’s eleven players. If you stuck Watson in his proper position and made him a keeper you would have a winning team right there.

But you don’t, because all these clever individuals know how rubbish the twenty20 tournament is going to be. They each ingeniously contrived to be “unavailable” or “injured” or “dropped” in a cunning ruse to avoid this nasty championship.

Now, surely, it will be rubbish. Then people will say: “why didn’t we listen to Ayalac?” And the answer will come back “because we didn’t read it in the first place.”

England, one by one, die

If people must persist in talking foreign, why must they do so loudly? Why the hell won’t Diana get the hell out of my face? Why can't the England players buy a packet of cigarettes without getting a side strain?

These are some the questions that constitute the mysteries of Sod. These are the questions that will never be answered, but they will continue to piss the crap out of you.

Sorry about the absence, by the by, I have been a little busy. And quite frankly, bringing the Ayalac little ray of bloody sunshine into your indolent and pathetic lives is at the bottom of my life’s "to do" list.

England lost a match yesterday. They lost because the other team is AMAZING, and we are A BUNCH OF USELESS DUFFERS. Their batsmen put the England bowling unit to the slaughters, all top four scoring half-centuries. Yuvraj Singh was particularly brutal, plundering 72 off 57.

The change of bowling strategy had much to do with this. First mistake was picking Jon Lewis, who failed to swing the ball, or prevent the batsman from swinging the bat. Bizarrely, the bowlers decided to eschew the previously successful strategy of bowling back-of-a-length in the hope that it would swing. It really didn’t. Not even on the tenth time Sachin Tendulkar drove you for four.

England’s batting hope lay mainly with Ulbator Choobleton, their chief Rain Dancing coach. Sadly, he, as well as everyone else, failed. Paul Collingwood put on a good show (91 off 71). And when Matt “The Pratt” Prior and Ian Bell were sharing a 90-run partnership, England may have thought they had a hope.

But they didn’t.

Now they are either (a) injured or (b) dead. Winning a single match may be a tough ask given the present state of disorder.

Can’t finished today’s post without mentioning Ravi Bopara and Stuart Broad’s incredible innings together at Bristol. It was probably the best partnership in England’s ODI history. I really thought they were finished when Colly ran himself out.

I even stopped listening to TMS. But I eventually tuned in again and it was clear something special was happening. It was a tremendous, thoughtful and composed performance. Better than I have seen from England since I saw Sydney Barnes and Pip Fielder contribute 39 matching winning runs in a brave last-wicket stand at the MCG.