cricket with balls

Is Scott Styris the angriest man ever to play international cricket?

Well, maybe not ‘angriest’, but ‘angriest-looking’, because either I always choose to look at him at the wrong moment, or he permanently has a face like a pissed-off garden gnome.

Batting, bowling or fielding, you get the feeling that he plays the game with a scowl on his face and thunder in his heart.

Even as he was steering the Black Caps to victory yesterday, there was a black cloud hanging over his head, demonstrating his fury at only getting to play because Vettori was hurt, anger at the teammates whose profligate batting had threatened to take the game away from New Zealand, and of course pure rage at Mitchell Johnson for barging him – a barge which cost Johnson 60% of his match fee* and Styris 15% of his for retaliation.

Just look at the photos of him walking off after the game. Have you ever seen such a thunderous look on the face of someone acknowledging the crowd?

The man is clearly a seething cauldron of malcontent, even when life is going well for him. I’d hate to see him properly upset.

*You just know that Mitchell is going to get a telling off from mummy for this. He’ll be straight onto the naughty step when he gets home and no mistake

This was originally on cricinfo, but, even without swearing and perversions, I really liked it. for some reason I forgot to put it up before.

If the apocalypse were to come tomorrow, most of us would be dead. But if Hollywood has taught us anything it is that people always survive. While Kallis, Ponting and Dhoni wouldn’t make it, there would be cricketers who would. And it isn’t always the most popular or talented who survive the end times.

Nathan Hauritz cannot be killed by bombs or global pandemics. This is a man who couldn’t get picked for his state side, averaged over 50 with the ball in first-class cricket, and now averages 30 in Test cricket. There are no weapons that can keep him down. After the apocalypse he would just roam the earth with that sweet little boyish face of his.

Ashish Nehra went through a career apocalypse, but he is back. I wouldn’t bet on him struggling to survive a worldwide nuclear war. He’d still have that look on his face too, the one that makes you wonder if he has any joy in his life. He’d be in a group that lives in Euro Disney; his role would be of the angry one who doesn’t trust anyone, but he’d be rubbish at catching food.

Kumar Sangakkara would make it through. Then, after an appropriate period, he would take over the world. Artists would carve images of him, people would refer to him as King Kumar, and he would be a fair and just leader. His leadership does have problems, but his suaveness and massive intellect mean he would run the world for at least six years. Until he wants to relax and travel.

Ian Bell can never be killed. Regardless of an apocalypse he is going to be around forever. Still looking good and not making runs. In a dystopian wasteland he’d still manage to find his way into a well-stocked mansion, with others doing the work to make up for him. Even when the whole group dies of food poisoning, Bell survives. He is like a mythical creature that way.

Brendan Nash would not only survive an apocalypse, he’d prosper. Once the world had settled, Nash would move to a new location and just tell them he was always one of them. There would be hostility towards him at first, and mild curiosity, but eventually in this new and desperate land he would come in handy and people would even start to love having him around.

Paul Harris would survive. He might mutate a bit, but like a cockroach or a tax officer he cannot be eradicated. Harris will quickly improvise and become an expert scavenger and sell his goods at a reasonable price, considering the location he lives in.

The New Zealand cricket team would remain okay. They would be watching Eagle v Shark in Chris Martin’s basement when the flesh-eating disease spreads rapidly across the planet, killing everyone. Upon exiting the basement they would have some good times and some bad times, but basically they’d just survive. Even though 90% of the world’s population is dead, their crowd numbers in Test matches stay the same.

Rahul Dravid would never even notice the apocalypse. When the aliens came to kill everyone on the planet with their sonic weapons, he was batting. As we know, when Rahul is batting, nothing can stir him. Even two years after the apocalypse he is still out there, marking his guard, trying to get the sight screen to be moved and planning for what field the captain will set for the next ball.

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When Jesse Ryder first injured his groin I made jokes about it. And now I feel the same urge.

But his groin, as magnificent as a groin can be, is no laughing matter.

Jesse has been out of cricket so long that I can’t even remember his smile.

To be exact that is 10,713,600 seconds, or 124 days.  I know this because of my Jesse Ryder calendar in my room.

You might think that 124 days is not a long time, but in Jesse time, this is years.

We don’t know how much Jesse we will get, he is not the Michael Hussey type of level headed sensibly attired well groomed individual.

Tomorrow he could get drunk and strangle the flight of the conchord boys.

He could get run over crossing the road at 2am for his buckets of chicken

A nurse could fall in love with him and convince him to farm potatoes.

So we need him back playing cricket.

This groin that has already hidden him from us for 124 days is now ruining tours that haven’t even happened yet.

No Jesse for the Australia and Bangladesh tours, and now not even the smoothly manicured hands of Lalit Modi can get Jesse fit for the IPL.

It looks like this groin will continue being the bane of my existence.

But, if you are a kiwi, maybe there is something you can do.

If you are walking down the street and you see Jesse, don’t just bow down worshipping at his impressive alter, go up to him and offer to massage his groin.

If nothing else, the offer will make him feel better.

Come on, kiwis, get your hands on Jesse’s groin, and let us heal it with the power of love.

In fact, even those of you who can’t get to Jesse can help, put his groin in your prayers/thoughts/dreams.

We need to work together people, a global cyber healing hand for Jesse, and his groin.

Touch him, like he has touched us.

Get better soon, big fella.

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