Well, it looks like Brian Lara’s confidence was misplaced. Yesterday, the Windies failed in their objective of not looking like tits, and were battered by New Zealand.
The Predictoron, predictably, was wrong, And I feel more pain.
As an England fan, I have suffered greatly at the hands of my team. I have lived a vicarious life: I feel woe when they lose and disbelief when they win. It is an intimate, if disappointing relationship. I have invested so much into my support, but what do I get in return? More agony.
So, I thought it would be ok to have a little fling, a small, meaningless affair. A wee dabble on the side, whilst still committing, in the long term, to my true love. It turned out that the Windies was not a good choice in crumpet. I am being punished by GOD for my treachery. Or, more likely, the ICC.
The ICC and me, on the other hand, have had a more straightforward relationship. I hate them, and they hate me. This, too, has been one-sided - they being a hugely powerful supra-national quango and me being a pathetic imp. Worse still, they are winning. They have successfully eroded my quality of life time and time again. Observe: I do not like 20twenty; the ICC forces everyone to play it all the time. I like watching high-class cricket, the ICC grinds the players into the ground to make loads of money, compelling teams to rotate their players and field muppets. I like watching videos on You Tube; the ICC takes them away from me. It is obvious, I think you will all agree, the ICC is out to get me.
Perhaps I should channel all my feelings of disillusionment and frustration with my chosen teams into a campaign of hatred against the ICC. Yes. That would be the healthy way of dealing with this.
Bloody ICC. I’ll have my revenge! Heed these words!
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