cricket with balls
constantly overstepping the line
the cricket sadists’ quarterly
2nd issue out now. Now, go, buy, read, love.
ashes 2009 when freddie became jesus
jrod bats with
wanna use the balls?
cricketwithballs.com by Jrod
is licensed
Creative Commonsthe compulsive ball polisher
©hinaman of
cricket without boundaries
hosted by The "Silly Point"
equator |||
with member sites-
For the source material that inspired this post go here.
Hey kiddies! We’re Nimby and Mizzy and we’re here to blog for you about this funny game called cricket! We’re best / bestial friends. Nimby’s the one who’s a cat, whose favourite food is
nimby-and-mizzy
KFC, and Mizzy is the one who likes nothing better than texting home on her 3 mobile, who’s rocking the ginger curls, now don’t call it a wig, I’m a genetic mystery don’t you know, racially ambiguous just like Elena off ANTM. Don’t question it, I’m not black you know!!
We don’t quite know what we’re doing here, especially Nimby given how she’s a cat, but the lovely people at Cricket with Balls have welcomed us into their family for a few weeks to blog about whatever we like so long as we maintain a level of needless triviality not seen since “Aussie Ladette to Lady” . This is perfect in a way, even though it might have been a better idea to launch this blog while there was a test match actually being played in our country to which the masses of newly-interested cricket fans roused from their cricket-hating stupors by this blog could have gone. Or perhaps it might have been better to grab the youthful demographic by launching a non-patronising blog featuring the women’s world cup which IS currently being played in our country and which is woefully unsupported. Never mind that, though! Nimby + Mizzy + Test Cricket = a perfect match. Match! Do you see what we’ve done there?
We love cricket. Long time. What other game can lead to players’ houses being attacked and effigies being burned when a team underperforms? It’s genius. We love all of cricket’s adorable little quirks. Like the fact that a couple of cricketers had to flee overseas after making a black armband protest about human rights abuses, and the fact that a terrorist attack on a bus may lead to international cricket being kept out of Pakistan for the foreseeable future. It’s so … racy; it’s almost like an episode of 24! LOL!
Anyway, right now we couldn’t be prouder of the Australian cricket team. Sure our team might not have match fixing allegations against them like Herschelle Gibbs or Nicky Boje, or rape charges like Ntini, but what we do have is arse kicking talent, although this arse kicking talent couldn’t quite manage to beat the Saffers at home! LMAO!
It feels like the start of a new era for Australian cricket. No longer do the names [hasty google search] Gilchrist, McGrath and Warne appear on the dressing room door. Now it’s [another hasty google search] Hughes, North and Siddle. In fact Hughes is playing so well that we need to find something funny to say about him, and in the absence of any actual cricketing knowledge on our part let’s tenuously jump onto the fact that the South African commentator don’t always pronounce the “H” at the start of his surname. Because nothing is as funny as a joke about a foreign person’s accent, people! Next week, we’ll be laughing at [google] Laxman Sivaramakrishnan’s flat vowels (not Ravi Shastri’s, because he’s HOT in a brown sugar kind of way!).
Hughes has certainly managed to be memorable. Out for a duck in the first test, followed by a century in the second. Look at how much cricketing terminology we know! Let’s see if we can tie this to a sexual analogy… here goes! Is this the cricket equivalent of playing hard to get? You tease, Phillip. Hughes also changed our exceptionally well-thought out and firmly held views about being the new boy in cricket. You see, we had always assumed cricketers aged in, hmm, analogy is falling apart somewhat. If only any of this paragraph made any sense! Never mind! LMFAO!!
That’s why we weren’t surprised to see Marcus North cutting loose with the bat in the first test. That’s about the right debut age for a test cricketer, yes? Just call them late bloomers, even though if late-20s is the usual age of an Australian debutant, Marcus North isn’t in fact a late bloomer at all, but as we all know logic flew out of the window a long time ago!
We’re also excited to finally see a ranga on the cricket pitch in the baggy green (we’ve never heard of Craig McDermott). We were just discussing how sad we were that Rugby League is packed with redheads (such is our ability to discuss different sports comparatively) but we never see any on the cricket pitch. It might be due to the hours spent standing in the sun, what with their pale skin, because skin cancer jokes are always hilarious. But finally Andrew McDonald has appeared on the scene and we couldn’t be happier that the crowd has a ranga to abuse. LOL!
We’ll be eagerly watching the rest of the second test, so stay tuned for our next blog where we, you know, actually talk more about cricket (see how self aware we are!) Kthanxbai! xoxoxo!!
While watching numerous Aussie-Kiwi encounters recently, I have been struck by Grant Elliot’s face.
Straight out of central casting
Not in a bad way, there’s nothing wrong with it, it’s actually pretty nice, but it is the kind of face that I feel I’ve seen loads before. I haven’t seen as many films as other contributors to this blog, but I’m quite sure Grant Elliot was in all of them, and also in every TV drama/comedy and advert as well, playing the following roles:
In a political film, the adviser to the guy you’re not meant to be getting behind.
The lawyer on the other side in a courtroom drama.
Harried dad of a youngster, in a madcap comedy where the kids are the main characters
Slightly idiotic best friend of the leading man.
Guy working in a high-end Barney’s-style men’s clothing store.
Bit part in a rom com playing an insignificant ex who was inoffensive but not “the one”.
The good, but compromised, Nazi.
The cool guy in a sitcom who looks good but doesn’t really say anything funny.
The businessman who is one of a mixed bag of characters in a disaster movie, who dies early.
Boyfriend of a Chelsea boy in a hip HBO show
Urban professional in an ad for luxury catfood, playing the foil to a woman and a soft grey cat.
Son of shipping magnate who sleazes on shipping magnate’s female employees.
I haven’t posted for such a long time now that newer readers won’t know that I exist, and older readers probably thought I’d disappeared into the ranks of the now-mythical Sime and Big Daddy.
However! I have been here all along, albeit with insufficient time to post. And now that The Jrod has more time to post since his arrival on this hallowed isle, too much of a good thing can be, well, too much.
But! Unlike Shane Warne, I have been spurred out of semi-retirement. By what, you might ask? To stick up for the women, of course.
After The England’s frankly redonkulous effort in the Stanford, there have been suggestions that the wives and girlfriends, what with their Stanford lap-sitting and other activities that might distract our poor boys, were a factor.
After all, it was, no doubt, the existence of Emily Prior that led directly to Matt exposing his stumps so as to be comprehensively bowled by Jerome Taylor.
Such suggestions make me crosser than you can know.
I’m not saying that the existence of a partner on tour does not have an impact on a player’s behaviour on or off the field (although, had Rachael Flintoff been in the West Indies last year, what are the chances that Freddie would have got drunk and gone pedalloing, if that’s even a verb? Had Vicky Collingwood been in South Africa, the only inappropriate area Paul would have ended up in is an unshaded courtyard at midday without sunscreen, and even that’s doubtful).
It would depend on the individual player, but I would have thought that some players find it helpful to have their partner present, some don’t, and some aren’t able to exercise a choice either way because the lady makes the decision.
What I AM saying, though, is that when a team puts in a woeful performance, this is their failure, not that of the women.
Blaming the presence of the women doesn’t help anyone understand and address the real (cricketing) reasons for a team’s poor performance.
And quite apart from demeaning the women, it’s not exactly flattering to the men to suggest that they are sufficiently unfocussed that they can’t play if their girlfriend is in the stand.
Also, many of these men are quite able to perform when they play in their own countries and go home to their partner every night.
If going on tour is seen as being a different environment where the men should be able to do male bonding things without a pesky wife telling them to go to sleep because they’re playing a major international match the next day, then perhaps that in itself is the problem.
The last time I remember an England team’s failure being attributed in some quarters to the presence of the partners was Baden Baden, where they were described as a distraction and the centre of a media circus.
But, Rio et al, perhaps if you’d played slightly more sparkling football about which we could actually get excited, we wouldn’t have cared what your teammates’ girlfriends were wearing. Frankly, the women probably WERE the most interesting aspect of that England campaign.
Don’t blame the women. Or, if you really think their presence on a tour has an effect, give them credit when a team wins.
Today, I am answering letters from distressed cricketers, with compassion and kindness.
—————————————–
Dear Mims
I’ve had a rough few weeks. I’ve worked hard this year, laid off the pies, led my team to two limited-overs finals but lost them both.
I tried to keep my cool, not like last year when I got in an understandable strop and flung my bat across the boundary rope when some cheat claimed a grounded catch, but it hurts so much.
And, and, my team don’t get to play in the superleague thingy because of a few individuals ruining it for everyone.
I just want the chance to wear the lid of a trophy on my head again. How do I get through this painful episode?
From KeyMan of Kent
Dear KeyMan of Kent
Oh sweetheart. Perhaps you should go play in the next ICL. I mean, what can you possibly have to lose? Before that, though, please could you let me pinch your cheeks? I’ve wanted to do that for ages.
——————————————-
Dear Mims
I’ve just won a trophy with my county and am very excited.
However, a couple of people started saying that I wear eyeliner and mascara and now everyone is teasing me about it. It’s embarrassingly emasculating.
How do I bring my manliness back?
From FEC AC
Dear FEC AC
First, I’m not sure what you mean about bringing your manliness “back”.
Secondly, if you wear very dark brown instead of black, you’ll find it looks a lot more natural.
Very few people have the colouring to get away with jet black eye makeup. If you were Asian you might be able to, but then people would start describing you as “wristy” and you strike me as the sensitive sort who would take this the wrong way and think it was a masturbation joke.
—————————————-
Dear Mims
I was called up to play for the country of my birth, and it hasn’t quite been the dream that I’d had in my mind ever since that call up 48 hours before the match.
It all started with my kids trying to get me to decline it so that I could be eligible for Australia, although I think they were just cross at missing their trip to Alton Towers; I know I’m never going to get a call up for Australia because I don’t have an Australian passport.
I performed ok on debut, I thought. I mean, I never said I’d be Ajantha Mendis or anything.
But I now wonder whether I was a means to an end to ease out the captain, who I’ll be honest didn’t really seem to like me. I feel so used.
From Dandy Roofer
Dear Dandy Roofer
You can’t put a price on the cult status, though, and you can expect to have a sports facility in Grimsby named after you at some point.
—————————————
Dear Mims
I’ve just been promoted to a new position and I’m worried that some people don’t think my heart is really in it. They think that I don’t have the passion to lead a country that I adopted.
But I’ve got an England tattoo. I’ve married an English girl. I drink tea and warm beer. I now know to say barbecue instead of braai.
I’ve tried everything, right down to the No.1 haircut and flashy jewellery that my friends assured me would make me fit in on any British high street. What on earth can I do?
Captain Fantastic
Dear Captain Fantastic
Cry in public. Cry your face off, and then cry some more. People will then come up to you and hug you in the street.
Polls
Is the '92 Pakistani World Cup shirt the best ever?
- Hells yeah
(67%, 36 Votes) - Yes
(33%, 18 Votes)
Total Voters: 54
Loading ...- Hells yeah
cricketwithballs.com by Jrod is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial- No Derivative Works 2.0 UK: England & Wales License.
All rights reserved © 2008, 2009, 2010 | Powered by WordPress | Theme: sehwagologic™ © 2008 | Created and maintained by ©hinaman
