cricket with balls

There was a time when a white batsman facing Ajantha Mendis would involve, a lot of nervous nudges, edgy singles and then an embarrassing bowled slash LBW as the batsman tried to break the shackles.

There was a time before that when the subbie batsmen and Windies batsmen were the same.

At one stage only the true prophet Sehwag could play him.

It was if all of life’s mysteries were wrapped up in the elegant fingers of Mendis and while the rest of us tried to think about a way to play him, the Lord just smited him.

Now it is all unraveling for Mendis.

According to Iain O’Brien his carom ball and wrong one are fairly easy to pick from the hand.

But that is not the worst bit.

The worst was when Cameron White failed to pick his wrong one. What should have happened was a couple of nervy deliveries later White played an ugly slog and Mendis picked up another easy wicket.

Instead the Big Bear got cave man on Mendis. He took 34 off 16 balls, and it was only a brilliantly madcap field placing by King Kumar, putting Dilshan directly behind the bowler, that slowed White down.

It wasn’t that White even seemed to be picking Mendis, it was that he didn’t care what Mendis bowled, he was just trusting his eye and hitting the ball a long way.

It was brutal and easy. After that one wrong one White never truly looked in trouble, but a few people in the crowd and the camera man certainly did.

Watching the Australian top order struggle against Randiv, a fairly faceless innocuous type spinner, Mendis would have been quite excited.  He probably thought he could cash in with a few wickets and start to restore his career a little.

Instead he was beaten up.  And by Australia, who seem to make the most simple spinner look good.  That must have embarrassed Mendis especially after the way Australia’s two best players of spin, Clarke and FFPM David Hussey, went out.

Since originally saying Mendis would be worked out, I have said that he either bowls like Chris Harris to batsmen who know him, or Jim Laker to those that don’t.

With the way Australia play regular spin of late; you’d say that they were going to be the last to work him out of those who have faced him. England still haven’t played against Mendis, but he might not be around long enough to ever play them if he keeps having days like he did against White.

Although even without mystery he might still confuse England.

With no real spin or flight, Mendis is less mystery and more a fading curiosity. Like Winona Ryder.

Australia is showing again what a surprisingly good one-day outfit they are.

Ryan Harris has barged his way into world cricket, but to be fair, he looks like he would barge his way into a swimming pool. Clint McKay either gets wickets or goes for no runs, not the worst habit to get into. Cam White is obviously pretending he is captaining the side. And Nathan Hauritz is giving up bowling for batting.

The series was dead at game two, and today’s game meant nothing at all. Pakistan played like it.

Their collapse was not unique and not unexpected.

Lose early wickets, pseudo consolidate for a while and then collapse for good.

It was not interesting or fun.

Then Shahid came in.

His first two balls brought about two wild slogs. Nothing pretty, but both went for four through fortune.

Then he tried to end Little Nathan’s gene pool.

After that was an attack on Clint McKay that eventually had him caught wildly slogging across the line.

He only lasted 10 balls, he scored 29 runs.

It wasn’t a great innings; it wasn’t even a good innings.

It was an innings that could only be compared to a black man taking LSD, pouring bourbon on his head, singing fuck the police and running naked through a Klu Klux Klan meeting that was mid way through lynching a bunch of his friends.

It was, for all 3 overs of it, something to grab your attention in a very dull game.

Like I have said before, Afridi either gives his fans a lift or his haters something to bag him about.

Today he did both.

I love him, I really do. I never had a truly mental relative, and Shahid is the crazy uncle I always wanted.

Imagine him in the corner at a family party, setting alight the napkins while denouncing his brother, the local butcher, as a CIA operative.

Buy the book, get a t-shirt, or donate to the whisky fund.

Another post from the Omitted. A new omitted as well, I am building an army of omitted volunteers now.
For the last couple of summers, the only thing I have enjoyed more than Mango Weis Bars in the bath has been been hurling abuse at Shane Watson and wishing every move he made resulted in another broken toe nail that would rule him out of the next series.  Not because I knew he couldn’t play – I have always been a huge fan of his batting – but there has been so much to dislike the way he carries himself that overshadows all of his (then) underperforming skills. And then he found himself in South Africa and Abu Dhabi and my abuse turned into applause.

I needed a new target. I did not have to look very far. I have disliked Cameron White for years. The fact his name rhymed with Shitey reminded me there is in fact a (cricket) God. I am not alone it is fair to be said.
Hatred is too harsh a word. I hate warm beer, I don’t hate Cameron White. I just thoroughly disliked him. Part jealousy of the ride the has been given, part arrogant demeanour he gives off – I have yet to see him come in for a beer after a game, he never uses anyone’s name when saying hello, I even played in a game when he captained the great Shane Warne and set his fields for him. Warney responded by ensuring that the ball went everywhere the fielders weren’t just to prove a point.

In the same game I looked up at the scoreboard when he came out to bat and his List A average was 16. How could this bloke be captaining the strongest domestic team averaging 16, pulling facial expressions of a retarded Labrador and bowling more slop than is thrown onto plates of homeless shelters around the country. He could catch, and is the still best slipper in the country. But how does this push you through the national selection set up? Was he giving hand trolleys to Big Merv?

He was the laughing stock of the professional cricketing circuit in Australia. He would bully them in the winter at Taunton to prop up his floundering first class average that in itself was propped up by batting behind Hodge and Hussey on the slow wickets of the MCG.

There was the Indian Test tour debacle that had people closing one eye to avoid seeing such a demeaning act of the sacred baggy green and one open to not miss a second of laughter. Even Sachin felt sorry for him.  This however proved to be  a turning point – it was as though he too realised he could not bowl and to comfort himself he decided to become the most kick arse one day batsman in the world.
It is fair to say I am now a convert. His hundred at the ‘Gabba was as good as I have ever witnessed. Not just the stroke play, but how he timed his run, the eased of how he dealt with pressure. It was nothing short of world class. I still secretly harbour desires to kick him hard in the shins, twice, but in his form, he would probably wind up and slog sweep me over mid wicket for six.

Greg Shipperd has recently stated that Cameron White should be the captain of the Australian 2020 team.

And it makes sense.  It won’t happen, but it makes sense.

Imagine if Australia actually picked the right captain for the job rather than the best batsman around, their world would implode.

I can already see Cricket Australia officials premeditating their spontaneous combustion at the very suggestion.

Clarke is the next captain.  That was decided at the meeting at the Melbourne Club that was hosted by the Freemasons and catered by the Jewish Mafia.

Any other suggestions of Marcus North for the test job, and Cameron White for the white balls jobs should be disregarded before you get yourself into an “accident”.

It doesn’t matter that Michael Clarke doesn’t seem to be any good at 2020, he is the man for the job, case closed.

It is written, and etc.

Shipperd’s selection would make sense in some sort of bizarre world where Australia took 2020 seriously or one where the white ball captaincy wasn’t an apprenticeship for the main job.

If Clarke wasn’t the captain of the white ball games where would be learn to captain?

He doesn’t play for NSWales anymore; he is either “ill”, resting himself or off beating it to video footage of Katich choking him.

Ponting will never get suspended for poor over rates; the ICC has given up on that rule.

And Clarke doesn’t even play IPL; apparently he has enough money already.

So what is left? The 2020 job, and sweet fuck all.

Ofcourse a professional outlet who wanted to win at all three formats would have the choice of having three different captains, and even 3 different coaches.

Greg Shipperd’s record as a 2020 coach is better than anyone else’s on the planet.  Although my record as 2020 coach is probably as good as Nielsen’s.

In the world where White and Shipperd were the captain and coach of the 2020 side I would be routinely raped anally by my biggest fan Natalie Portman and her 12-inch Strap-on named Virender.

I like Ship, but the dude must stop taking acid.

The Cricket Gods hate us, all of us.

Roy goes home.

Dirk goes home.

Sehwag goes home.

And now Jesse has an infected groin.

Tell me there isn’t at least one player on this list you love to watch.

Someone who makes you want to tell that special someone that you have a headache just to watch them play.

Look who has replaced them.

Cameron White, Fresh Air, Dinesh Kartik and Aaron Redmond.

Come on.

Give us something.

I like Cam, and I think Dinish looked in sparkling for in the IPL, but look at the names we are missing.

Seems like someone is pissing on this tournament.

I mean Aaron Redmond.

Give me a break.

I fell asleep once thinking of him batting.