Australia fluke a win

Much like in England, once South Africa won the series, they magnanimously gave the opposition a test match. So, clearly there are some nice South Africans out there.

In any case, no one cares about the trouncing of minnows.

What we really want to know is all the juicy details of the England dressing room: what Moores really thinks of Captain Fantastic; who betrayed who; who’s bitching about who; and who’s shagging who.

Well, I suppose the new Doctor is a bit young and keen.

(See, despite my life spent cowering under the blankets in a cold, dark and unbelievably cold country, I can still make topical jokes. Even though I can’t feel my toes at nights, I am still wiv it, yeah.)

Now. Not only do human beings universally loath Kevin Bloody Pietersen, but it seems like the England team are in on the act. The Old Batsman made a very interesting point yesterday, by suggesting that the whole affair was an elaborately conducted plot to weasel the politically brilliant Steven Harmison into the captaincy.

If true, this darkly executed scheme, not only lacking in any moral reference or empathy, but it would instantly result in Steveo’s elevation to GOD and win a life time’s devotion from me.

However, outside the nihilistic pleadings of my cold-shrivelled soul, Andrew Strauss’ name is once again being mentioned. Within the power struggle of the England dressing room, and I’m not talking about who puts Monty in Andrew Flintoff’s coffin…

...hang on a minute...

NEWS JUST IN

Just read that KP has been sacked. According to the den of lies, the BBC, Pietersen, in his infinite wisdom, Pieterprat issued the ECB with an ultimatum: either I go or Moors does.

Seeing as the season of expanding debt, the ECB decided to go for a two-for-one deal, and sacked the both of them.

The rest of the world was heard to make the following remarks:

“AH HA HA HA HA HA”

What makes this resignation interesting, as well as hilarious, is Pietersen’s reason. He’s not going because he’s useless and has a terrible track record. Oh no. He’s going because he couldn’t get along with some apparently alright bloke.

Napoleon had the same problem. But don’t worry, he came back on fine form.

Anyway,

AH HAH AH AH AH AHAHAHAHAHA

A review of 2008

Right. As my friends illegally break into the random abandoned house marked for demolition in order to have a “cool” venue for New Yearly celebrations, I shall mark the coming of a new period of depressing pish by assessing last year’s disheartening memories.

This task would be aided if I could remember beyond last night, but I shall do my best. In fact, I think my earliest memory is breaking that nice glass in a bar last week.

January started with the usual numbing miseries. The two mega-sides of international cricket, Australia and India, were deciding that there was, actually, only one mega-side. We also worked out that not only Australian players are complete twats.

January also saw a brief feature where I related the performances of certain test teams to the dead animals that I found on the street. As well as the start of the viddy-blog.

In February, things become a little lewd,if philosophical.

March saw the coming of the Great Bum. And the dawning of Age of China.

April, AYALAC got close with Wisden, and even expressed some opinions on its totally sane list of Top Five Cricketers. Let us not forget that some cricket happened too, the incredibly exciting IPL started in April.

In May, the IPL reached new levels of joy known only to a select few of herion wombles. AYALAC also celebrated the great romances playing behind the blog scenes. I was surprisingly accurate with some. My mum also did some reporting for me in Antigua.

June saw the arrival of Alan Twatford, and AYALAC always backed this iniative and felt a bit annoyed that it didn't bleat about it endlessly thus missing out on some serious "I told you sos" come the actual tournament. The summer mouth also witnessed an experimental combination of cricket and horror. And, to my personal horror, I was actually spotted by a fan, on the street...

England continued in their usual style in July. But, I tried not to pay attention, as I was in India, at the time. Plus, much to the delight of all, Robocop started to play for England.

August saw more Wisden action. August had it all, trains, cricket reporting and firings.

The second coming came again in September, as Captain Fantastic showed the way with his magic man milk.

Things got a little creative, too - perhaps a bit too much? And AYALAC was sent to Berlin.

More complaing about Ausies in October. I found out how to enjoy the Twatford League.

November saw some bitterness towards the media, and hilarity and critical changes in the rules of the game.

December, brought lots of chocolates and Gluhwein, as well as more irritation at cricket journalists. The journalists responded by cutting off my access to cricket.

Right, so that's my year. I'm going to head off now. Hopefully, the Germans won't kill me tonight. Judging by the noise out there, I think they're using more gunpower than the Red Army needed to take Berlin.

KP's magic man milk

After I revealed KP's secret to success yesterday.

The Englanders leaked documents substantiating my libellous claims.

This was quoted from KP:

"YES MY PRETTIES! YES! DRINK! DRINK MY LIFE-GIVING MAN MILK SO THAT YOU MAY COME STRONG. STRONG LIKE YOUR WARM, LOVING MOTHER"

KP’s brews up a treat again

Very rarely does an England sporting team dispatch strong opposition. Sure, we can crush Turkey at Polo and thrash Poland at Turkey Gobbling, but very rarely do we beat a number two side in the world, let alone repeatedly blown them away like farts on a summer breeze.

But that’s what England did today by smashing South Africa for the fourth time on the trot.

There were times when the Saffers looked strong. They started very quickly, 69-0 from bugger all overs. Although, this promising start petered out into a relatively disappointing 183. Similarly, whilst in the field, they had England in trouble at a wicket down, a quarter of their overs passed, with still over a hundred to go.

Then Jacques Kallis decided to bowl himself. One moment of short-of a length madness, and England had advanced their score by twenty, downgrading their official status from “Panic! Panic!” to “Hang on a minute…”. When Andrew Flintoff eventually took the field, Defcon stood at “Take that you Saffer Pansies!”

So what exactly has KP done to the England cricket team. Obviously, they’ve been suckling at his fantastical, victory-enhancing teets. But Michael Vaughan tried that, and his man-milk only seemed to last 2005 before it became crusty and incapable of giving life.

Some people think that he has made players feel valued. Loved. Wanted. Whereas before, I suppose, they were abused regularly. Here’s a leaked training session under Vaughan’s regime:

“You bunch of useless wankers. I don’t know which one of you is most useless. Is it you Harmless, you pathetic heap of gangly sinews?”
“Yes sir.”
“What about you, Owais? Oh way to be crap more like”
“Yes sir. I am exceedingly crap.”
“Good. It is through pain and suffering that you learn to lose matches. And it is only when you lose repeatedly and feebly that you understand the true meaning of success.”
“Yes sir,” says all.

Compare this to the recently leaked transcript from KP’s “Friends’ Camp”:

COME MY BEAUTIES. SUCKLE. SUCKLE STRONG SO THAT YOU MIGHT BECOME MORE LIKE ME