Thursday, April 19, 2007
Climbing up the Top sails i lost my leg
I've been a little busy lately, hence the lack of updates (Kids, if you're reading this, don't ever get a job. It's painful boring and you end up getting fucked every day between 8 and 6. (Also don't talk like your uncle Ruck, he has a filthy, filthy mouth, despite having it washed out with beer every spare moment.) I Felt however that I would like to get something off my chest.
They call cricket a gentleman's sport, especially when someone fucks up and gets reamed by panel of old farts. They should call it gentleman's sport for little sissy girls who wear dresses and drink tea, especially if you hear the kind of shit people get fined for. Now let me clarify, I'm all for kiwis getting manhandled by South Africans, it's my favourite thing next to unicorns and milkshakes, but what happened to Brendan McCullum is ridiculous. Umpire Rauf gave McCullum out LBW, when McCullum actually thought the umpire meant he had been caught. the punchline, however, is that both were bullshit descisions, but none the less, he was out. McCullum shook his head in disbelief. When the smelly old fuckers in the gentlemens' club saw a young man using the axle of his neck so furiously, to dissplay his dissatisfaction at being called out, you could hear the roar of 100 monacles dropping into gin glasses. They immediately called Mike Procter to restore order to the chaos caused by the oscillation of Brendans head and he was subsequently fined, Striking a much needed blow for geriatrics and empirical rhetoric.
They call cricket a gentleman's sport, especially when someone fucks up and gets reamed by panel of old farts. They should call it gentleman's sport for little sissy girls who wear dresses and drink tea, especially if you hear the kind of shit people get fined for. Now let me clarify, I'm all for kiwis getting manhandled by South Africans, it's my favourite thing next to unicorns and milkshakes, but what happened to Brendan McCullum is ridiculous. Umpire Rauf gave McCullum out LBW, when McCullum actually thought the umpire meant he had been caught. the punchline, however, is that both were bullshit descisions, but none the less, he was out. McCullum shook his head in disbelief. When the smelly old fuckers in the gentlemens' club saw a young man using the axle of his neck so furiously, to dissplay his dissatisfaction at being called out, you could hear the roar of 100 monacles dropping into gin glasses. They immediately called Mike Procter to restore order to the chaos caused by the oscillation of Brendans head and he was subsequently fined, Striking a much needed blow for geriatrics and empirical rhetoric.
Bullshit as that may be though, my real gripe is with all the negative press the Proteas got for getting drunk 2 days before the match against England. They just got boned by the kiwi's, they were miserable, they needed a drink, and the next game was only in 2 days time. I'm no expert, but hangovers rarely last 2 days (unless you drink 40 year old beer, but that's not a hangover, that's legitimate poisoning. If you wake up at all it's a bonus. ) So there's no problem with it affecting the next game. Secondly, they're in the Caribbean for fucks sake, land of pirates, booty and RUM. You can't go there and not get drunk it's in the law. Certain countries have things you must try before you go, in the Caribbean it's drinking rum until you pass out on an island, in SA it's getting hijacked and in Holland, guess...(which is why they don't schedule cricket world cups in the Netherlands, because if they did, Hersch would need a runner for every match.) And just to prove my point, they came out for the next game and buried the poms. For the record, they were dobbed in by fellow South African "fans" and I use that term ever so loosely. Who the fuck are these fans anyway? If they're in a bar at 4 AM to see Mark Boucher doing the limbo in his undies, chances are they're not sober either. Then there were reports of fighting. So what? drinking and fighting belong together, how else do you explain the great historic Irish boxers, Seamus o'Malley and the rest. So next time I drink, I will toast thee Captain Smith and ye merry band of pirates, Sail forth and claim the gold (the world cup, do I need to explain all my obscure references?)
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