Let’s delude ourselves further

There are some difficult questions in life – how many times does a person need to sneeze before the need to say “bless you” dissipates. I reckon it’s about three consecutive sneezes, any more and you need to wait until the fit is over, whereupon you can say something hilarious like, “going for the record, eh?”

Another toughie might be: Michael Clarke – what’s that all about?

Michael Clarke has a dicky tummy. He’s in India. And people are worried about this. He’s in India, people, India.

Anyway, let me formulate an answer to my original question. Michael Clarke, Shane Watson and all of their ilk, although universally recognised as rubbish, still take runs, steal catches and sport womanly good hair. But they are nevertheless essentially crap.

This is the sort of thing that you need to tell yourself when the Ozzlers pulverise your childhood heros again, pounding them into a crusy, lump dust that floats uncomfortably up your nose.

Let’s look at these players:

- Matthew Hayden
- Michael the Hussey
- Stuart Clark

The list is ended. I put it to an Australian that I met in a bar in Berlin’s red light district, that these players are essentially crap, but it’s only their complete bastardliness that results in success.

His response wasn’t especially cogent. He started mumbling about how England were dead lucky in 2005 and why hasn’t she got the clothes, she needs them, I mean look at her. And, to emphasise how strongly he felt about this, he knocked over his oversized beer all over me.

That’s how Australians feel about the rest of the world. Foreigners are to be treated with poorly co-ordinated contempt, no matter how legless you are.

Let’s delude ourselves further

There are some difficult questions in life – how many times does a person need to sneeze before the need to say “bless you” dissipates. I reckon it’s about three consecutive sneezes, any more and you need to wait until the fit is over, whereupon you can say something hilarious like, “going for the record, eh?”

Another toughie might be: Michael Clarke – what’s that all about?

Michael Clarke has a dicky tummy. He’s in India. And people are worried about this. He’s in India, people, India.

Anyway, let me formulate an answer to my original question. Michael Clarke, Shane Watson and all of their ilk, although universally recognised as rubbish, still take runs, steal catches and sport womanly good hair. But they are nevertheless essentially crap.

This is the sort of thing that you need to tell yourself when the Ozzlers pulverise your childhood heros again, pounding them into a crusy, lump dust that floats uncomfortably up your nose.

Let’s look at these players:

- Matthew Hayden
- Michael the Hussey
- Stuart Clark

The list is ended. I put it to an Australian that I met in a bar in Berlin’s red light district, that these players are essentially crap, but it’s only their complete bastardliness that results in success.

His response wasn’t especially cogent. He started mumbling about how England were dead lucky in 2005 and why hasn’t she got the clothes, she needs them, I mean look at her. And, to emphasise how strongly he felt about this, he knocked over his oversized beer all over me.

That’s how Australians feel about the rest of the world. Foreigners are to be treated with poorly co-ordinated contempt, no matter how legless you are.

Yawn: Australia are winning

This is like watching your dad playing rugby against your three year old brother. You hope that he’ll eventually stop pounding your sibling into the ground. But he won’t. He just keeps pounding and pounding. Eventually little Jimmy stops moving, and then you have to talk to the police for a bit.

Sri Lanka is just like little Jimmy. Except, there is no coroner’s inquiry or judicial cover-up; Sri Lanka’s defeated corpse is getting relentlessly battered and not even Social Services will intervene.

Again, the Australians eased into hegemony. With two Ausslers notching centuries. One, Mr Boring, scoring 101* overnight – taking his average to 432 for this year. The other, Phil Jacques, not satisfied with a perfect 100 in the previous match, opted for an exact 150. Presumably, Jacques is a mathematician, and likes to score in binary numbers only. Heck, if you’re an Australian, you can do that.

You can do anything you want.

Meanwhile, the impudent Sri Lankans, toil like lobotomised Lions that are too stupified with sun-stroke to grab even a blind quadriplegic goat. Even Lasith Malinga, the supposed savour of the Lankan cause – so badly missed in Brisbane – looked a member of Twickenham’s second eleven.

This is really rubbish. Australia is really rubbish. Please stop battering us Australians. You can’t really enjoy it. Look at the picture, even Mr Chimney finds this dull. Think of your forbearers. You don’t want to make their record like insignificant, do you? Think of you heritage…such as it is.