The Poms Had A Cunning Plan

Strauss appears in the doorway of the press room.


"Before we start this, I implore you all to stay absolutely silent while I speak. Kind of like shutting up."

Before a nonplussed audience, he then smugly parades to the table and drops himself in the chair. He smirks.

"I know all of you reporters here think I silenced you for a sincere apology. That is bollocks, total bollocks...STOP IDIOTS. You do not write this. You write what I tell you to write, that's how it works. Just like my team plays how I tell them to play."

The room starts buzzing with murmurs of match-fixing.

Strauss beams now. His cleverness just knows no limits, he's twirled these media fatheads around his finger; he knows it.

"Aha, gents, your socks have jumped off your feet now, haven't they? But that's how it sits. We deliberately lost yesterday so....STOP IDIOTS. In the name of the Queen don't write match-fixing. You'll phrase it as 'The Benevolent Self-Sacrifice of the English to the Irish'. I'll tell you all why."

Strauss takes a pause to allow the anticipation for the grand moment to sink in. He smiles at the thought of how he's kicking ass better than Colin Firth.

"Gents, I ask you these serious questions. How many interesting matches we've had so far this tournament? 3. Did we play all of those three? Yes. How many times were minnows involved? Twice. How many times did we win? Once. If that doesn't ring a bell in your heads, you're all bigger prats than Colly who's the only one who thinks we didn't lose deliberately for the better good of cricket and therefore a MUCH greater cause."

The room starts buzzing again.

"Yes people, pick away a tear at that. I, Andrew Strauss, single-handedly decided to bring back cricket to life. I scored that 158 against India despite losing more calories than Bressy has in his entire body. I dropped O'Brien yesterday. I am the new Gladiator and together with my loyal Poms, we'll revive cricket including Associate Cricket. Colly we will of course banish to Ireland because he's a ginger and probably even a leprechaun and can therefore not be a part of our campaign. That's how it sits, now write your stories and Toodles to y'all."

He dashes to the door where suddenly O'Brien enters, rips of Strauss' head and puts it on a stick.
"I was amazing. I was Genghis Khan with pink hair. I was why Ireland won and the bloody English lost. That's what you write down, nutters."

He marches out and Colly follows out, throwing gold coins to the audience.

"I shall be the saviour of cricket and have a statue of myself made at Madame Tussaud's."

A Captain's Diary: Punter Version

13th of October, 2010.


07.00 am

Dammit. It's one of those days when a man should be lying in bed instead of waking up and getting one's ass kicked by Indians. Just to clarify, it's NOT my ass. I have been fantastic all these series, it are those other duds who think they can wear a baggy green without doing something formidable. Seriously, I wonder who these kids get their inspiration from. Me or Bryce McGain?

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These meals in India are just horrible. The curry is almost coming out of my ears, need to tell my wife to send me packaged lunches from Oz.
Haha, Mitch just passed by and while he was looking away I dumped all of my food in his plate. When he gave that dumb questioning look of his I told him he will need all those calories today for putting in an epic performance. Of course I was clever enough not to give him my self-endorsed Swisse vitamins, those are only for me.


12.00 (lunch)

As expected, Mitch and Nate have locked themselves up in the washroom ever since they got out. Saw Dougie smuggling some food to the closet, and took it as an opportunity to drag them all out. After that I delivered one of my best pep-talks and Georgie Porgie Custard and Pie even asked an autograph afterwards. I'm going to become commentator after all. Maybe even the next President of America.

I've got all those poses practised already. That watch costs $ 640 btw.

14.26

Come on, get some wickets losers. Especially you Nate, take advantage of the brilliant field I've provided you with.

15.00 (tea)

Called up a few cricket mates and Pup to discuss what excuses we're going to make because this Test is totally lost. Don't have to forget to mention how good I played, how good Sachin played and how bad all the newbies felt for their stupid work. Only solace I can grant to them. But I don't think it's funny at all. Don't they realise I might get fired before I'm able to set Colly's head on fire in the Ashes?

16.38

Shit, shit, three billion times shit. We lost. 

19.00

Warnie should buy some brains. What does he mean I don't know my field placements? Nate just bloody can't bowl. If he has a problem he should talk on the phone, not on that Twatter thing.
-----
And now he's saying we're still mates. Like as in mates again? What do you mean fat finger lickin' halfwit? I don't want to be mates with someone like you. Not that we were ever mates in the first place, you never shared your pizzas with me and tried to show everyone how I couldn't play your spin bowling. Get lost.

20.00

Today I also told people they should realise I'm still the best bloke to lead the Aussies. I'm the most experienced, the most capable and the most ingenious and above all, I'm the most dedicated Aussie player around. But apparently no one gets that.

(i don't think i got my times right, but does that matter? i've got more important things on my head).

Operation Revenge KP

Dear Saffers,


Opportunity of vengeance has been thrown our way. All those years we waited for the crook who left Safferland to show up again (and alone, without the Queen’s guards), and now he will. Yes, repeat that: all alone. Slowly lick your lips at this enticement and unleash the Hannibal in you. Figjam is coming back.


You didn’t expect it, did you? And since I’ve told you the big news (shut up, news sites don’t count), I am going to tell you how we will carry out our ‘Big Operation Revenge Kp’. Oh yes, it should be a gigantic, big, and fearsome one.


First, you need to reach the heights of abhorrence for Figjam. That you do by recollecting all what’s there to hate about him; like him leaving SA, blaming the quotas, trying to become a Pom and eventually ending up with an inflated egohead so big he could drift down the Mississippi River with it. If it still doesn’t work, you can go and take some counselling in KP-hate from mspr1nt. I’m sure she’ll help you out.


Okay, then we come to the poster making. We’re all going to make big posters in which we cleverly welcome Kp so he thinks we’re glad to have him back, and that way he won’t run back. And then when we have him, we’ll attack. I’m putting my poster up here first so you can get an idea:

 After that we invite him over to a tea party (where we tell him we offer very very English tea), after which we hem him in and then....ATTACK! See, so very simple and uncomplicated.

If you have some unfinished business with our dear Figjam, you send us an email at Figjambashers_for_life@thesaffaspirit.com, tell us the details of why you want to take revenge, and you’ll get a ticket to the tea tavern. Last date for entries is 20 September, so make sure you don’t miss out on this life-time opportunity!

Disclaimer: We don’t take any responsibility for excessive violence. You will serve your verdict in jail yourself.

Akmal and Broad chat on MSN

Okay, I know Cricinfo’s Page 2 has probably miffed you enough with their endless spy-cammer reports, but doing them is so irresistible that I’ll turn into an annoying bugger myself for the day, and bring you a stalked MSN live chat between Stuey and snr. Akmal.

Broady is sitting in his room, browsing cricket sites and reading all the nasty stuff people have got to say about his impudent behaviour. He writes the names carefully down and plans to get’em reported to his Dad. Suddenly Kamran Akmal comes online.

On Stuey’s screen:

K. Akmal has sent you a buzzer.
K. Akmal has sent you a buzzer.
K. Akmal has sent you a buzzer.
K. Akmal has sent you a buzzer.

Stuey thinks of appearing offline but then remembers something and reluctantly types:

Yeah hello...umm, what’s up?
K. Akmal : Hello! A varry bootiful moon is up.
Stuey : Oh..well. Why do you want to talk with me?
K. Akmal : Becoz I’m is varry happy. You makes me happy.
Stuey : Geez Akmal, can’t you share your euphoria with someone else?
K. Akmal : Wat is euphoria? Just like dairia? I not can share dat.
Stuey : OK, just leave it. Wait, are you talking about our deal? That I had to injure that new bloke Haider?
K. Akmal : Yes, yes, u are so rite. U make his pain bigger bad and now not play he in next Test. So I would be keeper now again and dat makes me varry happy.
Stuey : Yeah, it wasn’t too difficult, I aim so perfectly well. They cut my match fees for half, but you’re going to pay for that right? And you also promised you’d allow me to make a century when you keep next time by hitting all my edges to the boundary, remember?
K. Akmal : Yes, me knows. Not takes worry you. I do everything, Pakistan crikeet ka SOOPERMAN to mayn hi hun na.*

"Yah, itz me, Pak crikeet's Sooperman. Itz not Shahid Bhai"

Stuey : Sorry?!
K. Akmal : Aik to is uloo ko urdu samajh mayn nahi aati. Angraiz putar kahi ka.*
Stuey : What? Sorry Akmal, I seriously don’t get all of that stuff.
K. Akmal : Leaf it. And i hav to leaf too, small Akmal comes in, he cannot see wat chating we talked! Bi bi..
On Stuey’s screen : K. Akmal has sent you a wink. Play Kiss.

*Pakistani and Indian folks, I hope I got the Urdu/Hindi right. Since I might not have got it right, feel free to correct and be kind enough to provide a translation in the comments section for those who didn’t get anything of it.