Yuvi sings the blues

hey, hey, hey
Why do i gotta play
play such a slow game
slow game slow game slow game
why do i gotta think
think before i play
play such a slow game
these spinners and these swinging balls
that leave me, leave me, leave me
outside off, off, off, off
it's not on baby, it's not on baby
I wanna throw the kitchen sink at you
But they say somebody gotta do the dishes first
Hey, I don't wanna do the dishes baby
I just wanna throw the kitchen sink at you baby
But this test cricket, oh she's such a bitch, baby
She wants me to think, think, think
But what about the **%$#% Sehwag
He don't think, he don't think
And I'm the chosen one baby
I've been chosen, not once, but twice, thrice,
But so many times baby

If only it was easy as in Pakistan
I'd just retire from test cricket
Y'kno Boom Boom played 27 tests in 12 years
Oh man, that's so fucking cute
And I, what I do
I played 34 tests in 7 years
My average is 35, his something 36
No wonder I'm singing the blues

And now here I am sick in Sri Lanka
No, no, no don't get me wrong
I'm not sick of Sri Lanka
I'm sick in Sri Lanka
I may not retire from test cricket
but hell, am gonna retire for the night

There's a big game on tomorrow
And small mercies, I'm not playing
I'm gonna get better
and whip some one-day sides ass into shape
Till then, till then, it's not as bad as it seems
No sour grapes, no sour grapes, baby
I'm gonna snarl back into shape.
F*ck you dengue

On Bored: Get swell soon, Yuvraj

If I was a ball

If you was a ball

Whose bat would you be touched by

If you was a ball

Whose bat would you be touched by

If I was a ball I’d like to stay in shape

I’d like to travel far beyond the boundary ropes

If I was a ball

I’d like to go for an on drive

I’d like fielders running after me

Like boys run after girls

I’d like them to chase me, always interested somehow

Never giving up hope

I’d like to be played off the pads

Pulled and cut and flicked

But never in anger

I may be a ball, but I got my feelings

Feelings that very few can tell

Feelings that very special few can tell

Very, very special few can tell

If I was a ball, I’d like to be touched

By VVS’ bat

He doesn’t ignore, he plays me

With his bat

The pads they’re part of his uniform

What’s with Laxman, he’s always in form

If I was a ball, If you was a ball

Whose bat would you be touched by?


on bored: vvs laxman

You are the Boom Boom!

You are the boom boom

BOOM BOOM!

You are the bass guitar

You the lead sitar

You are a rock band

You are the front man

You are Bono, Jagger, Jim and Jimmie

But you got stuck playing test cricket again.




On Bored: Ringside view of Afridi's retirement

The IPL Streaker.

With a bottle of Jack he took the field
Took the field, took the field
It wasn't a Chargers' game
But everyone around the Eastern stand said
Hey, is that Roy?!
Is that Roy? Is that Roy?
It wasn't Roy, it wasn't Roy

Everyone at the far Northern stand
had their doubts
they thought it was Herschelle
Hic Hicking away
They thought it was
Herschelle Hic Hicking away

But where he came
from the Western stands
The folks could so clearly see
It was none other than
An IPL Streaker

It was then announced that he will get
Entry free into all the games
The sponsors came thick and fast
A country song went national
It was called
The IPL Streaker song

And whenever he ventured on the field
It sang
With a bottle of Jack
He took the field
took the field, took the field
It wasn't a DC game
But everyone one thought...



On Bored: Cricket songs

How will you know?

How will you know you’re a bored cricket crazy Indian
Will the doctor diagnose you, will the teacher teach you
Will you go with the flow of the stream
Walk in the park
Go out and field in the sun
At far off deep square leg
Not get a bowl, not get a bat
Just hang around, just like that
To be part of a game,
Till they see you, send in that overarm throw
From that boundary line

And they say, can you bowl
Not look at your height
Not look at your might
Just look at your fight
In those two eyes – your sight

What do you see, boy
Tell me, what do you see, boy
I see the stumps, like a toy, boy
I’m gonna play with them like a toy, boy
Ho Hoh! I’m gonna rattle them, snake them
Ho Hoh! I’m gonna shake them, brake them
Hoh Hoh! I’m gonna take them, ache them!

How will you know you’re a bored cricket crazy Indian?
Will the doctor diagnose you, will the teacher teach you
Will Lalit Modi brand you with an IPL scholarship
Will Sachin Tendulkar bless you with one played off his hips

You could always write us

A new toast for two ten.

I don’t care if he’s Indian or if he’s Pakistani
Don’t care if it’s you or some guy called Mohammad Sami
I don’t care if he’s a drunk or a flag bearer for the barmy army
Don’t care if it’s Umar Akmal after a brazen 49
Don’t care if it’s Shane Watson in the tavern after a run out on 99
I want a new toast
A new toast for two-ten

It can’t be that difficult
To give some new kids a chance
You can’t have the same mob playing all the time
And then saying there’s too much cricket
But wait a second, if there’s too much cricket
Why don’t you take a chill pill?
You may not quite be over the hill
But when the fuck will you get your fill?

Zaheer and Bhajji, what’s with you
You waiting to disintegrate on the field
Now you see the Lankans, right?
Do you even know their names?
Yeah, so bring some nameless players
From the back of beyond
A new state, somewhere in the North East
Or the Andaman Islands
Yeah, give it a push guys
You looking for a fucking fast bowler
Maybe you been looking in the wrong places
Go look in the middle of MP which incidentally
Is also the middle of India
If a kid can tame a tiger
Yeah, you know what I’m saying
I want a new toast
A new toast for two ten
Not you toast
No, no, no
I don’t wanna toast your five for whenever that comes
I wanna toast your five weeks off


On Bored: Cricket Songs

The ICC spread (theme song)

Why can’t we play
In the middle of this world
In Marrakesh
By the old Bazaar I know this place
And my friend Victor the explorer
Has his bat and ball waiting
Just behind the green wrought iron staircase
In Marrakesh
In Marrakesh
There some stumps and a pad wrapped in plastic
Somewhere in the old house

We will make stories to spread cricket
We will rake money to spread cricket
We will spread our wings to spread cricket
We will spread our legs to spread cricket
Spread our legs to spread cricket
We will.


On Bored: Cricket Songs

You're the (messiah and the mistress)

You’re the messiah and the mistress
You’re the Brutus cut
And the brute that felled Caesar
And all at once Caesar
You’re a tattoo across that man’s chest
And the woman’s breast alongside him
You’re the reason they watch TV
Together

But I cannot stand to see you open
And I can’t stand to see you close
I cannot stand to see you slow
And I can’t stand to see you go
I cannot stand to hear the hype
And I can’t stand to hear the tripe

You’re a B&W TV memory
Of me running to tell my sick mother
Of you running down to Qadir
“This crazy kid's gone nuts!”
And ever since
She’s been nuts about you

And that was the only time I watched
You and cricket with my brother
You’re the kid brother I never had.

Kid, change those milestones into stones.



(The first four lines came four days back, this Tendulkar20 Business can sure put you off)

Not that far behind. (a song for Sachin and er...even Ricky)

One scores a 100
How can the other be far behind?
There isn’t much between the two
When they leave their demons far behind

One is the skipper
The other left his captaincy far behind
One is a mentor, the other went mental
When the Poms kicked his far…behind

Good for him
He’s left Twenty20 far behind
There’s just so much one can do
Better to leave cricket’s future far behind

You can play in the present
But you must play as you did
Far behind

The cover drives will come
The reverse sweeps will hum
Place it far behind

The bat will be straight
The defence will be great
Far behind

Foot to the pitch of the ball
You're in for the long haul
When the world is done
You’ll still be scoring a ton
Because one can never leave
that much class far behind.

Go get it boy, it was always there
In the back of your mind
Not that far behind.

Black in whites.

Big black man come out and play
Big black man come out and say
"I rule the world of cricket
Every which way I do"

Big black man where are you?
Where have gone the conquests
Your shoulders stoop
There is no general, there is no troop
All your armies lie wasted in some beach resort
Sipping on Pina Coladas
Does it have to come to this?
Without a goodbye, without a kiss

Oh, Mr Michael Holding, you I like
When you speak such wisdom in the Sky box
But what use is this, when your Windies cricket
Is on the rocks

And Mr Tony Cozier, you know so much
You even remember the old glory days
You were there, you are here
It is sad to hear you speak
For a team soh weak

It doesn’t have to come to this
The serpent is among us
We are the cause, we are the cure
Look deep amongst us

Look for the reggae in your soul
Look for taking cricket out of the hole
Look my brothers, look my sisters
Our sons play on the beach with blisters
They cannot afford shoes, yet they play
What is it, you have to say?

Can we not play our team?
Can we not play our half baked dream?
We may not be the greatest
But we still have a team
Can we not play our team

I want to see black in whites
I want to see black in heights
I want to
I want to
I want to see cricket survive
I want to see cricket alive

Oh, Sir Frank Warrell where have you gone?
Save us from these troubled times


For a taste of West Indies v West Indies, here you go

Freddy Steady Go!

Like Ian Andersen on one good leg
Coming down Lord’s hill like one big keg
What you gonna do little Aussie?
What you gonna do?
Here he comes, he comes for you,
Ninety two miles an hour
While up there sits a thin-lipped Andy Flower
Freddy Steady Go!
Freddy Unsteady Go!

No, not quite, not quite
Here he comes, he comes for you,
What you gonna do little Aussie?
What you gonna do?
Ninety two miles an hour
Short and in the face
Out to annihilate the human race
That’s cheating, too heavy too fast
Too many overs, too many overs unchanged
How did he bowl more than four?
What we gonna do, what we gonna score!
Here he comes
He comes for you
Freddy Steady Go!

Such a big bulk of a man
The earth must hurt as he trudges in
He will, gonna breakdown
He will, gonna meltdown
This man don’t belong, not to now
He be some early descendant of the Ape
Will you look at that ball and shape
Ninety two miles an hour
Here he comes
He comes for you
What you gonna do Little Aussie?
What you gonna do?
It’s Freddie. Steady. Go!

Bill Lawry: He’s GAAAAWN!

The Andrew Flintoff, Shoaib Akhtar and Michael Jackson Musical Tribute: Break Dance!

MJ: OWWWW that hurts!
SA: XGJ&$:)**& YAAA!
AF: I could break Yuvraj’s Ba**s!
MJ: What have you broken guys OWWW!

Chorus:
There’s nothing you cannot mend
If you’re playing cricket with a friend
Just send me all your broken bros
Send me all your broken bros

SA: IHitMaLaagWithMaBaat %#@$$
AF: Gawn out drinkin when I fell over and somethin snapped

MJ: It’s marvellous - to be with you bro, share your worries and your broken hearts
Hold you close, close to my heart, far away from those dirty tarts!
You don’t need no WAGS
You don’t need no shags
If it’s broken, it will mend
It it’s broken, it will mend
Doing the break, doing the break,
Doing the break dance dude

SA: CRAAAZY! Hhaha! NeverSeenAnythingLikeThat MJ! YouROCKMJ!
AF: I’m hungover #@>>>>>>>>> Aspirin anybody?

MJ: You need a rub, I’ll call my masseur
He’ll play the Casio
While we dance out in the patio
Just the three of us, what a ratio
Doing the break, doing the break
Doing the break dance dude.

SA: Naastie maan, youMJ!
AF: Bollocks!

MJ: You’re tough to please
Is your career on lease?
Do they call you pretty boy, wata tease
Have you made enough to pay Doctor’s fees?
I might not always be with you
But I’ll always be with you
Doing the break, doing the break
Doing the break dance dude!

SA: ………
AF: ………

And that’s where we take a Break.

LET'S TWIST AGAIN!

According to reports coming in
The Indian team was deeply hurt after their defeat
In the twenty20 World Cup
What the Indian team didn’t tell you and me was
They were deeply hurt before their defeat
In the twenty20 World Cup
This might sound repetitive
But then so is the deep hurt
Of the Indian team
C’mon let’s twist again!!

Let’s twist that right calf!
Let’s twist again!
Let’s tear that right calf!
Let’s twist again!
Let’s tear that left shoulder
Let’s twist again!
Let’s tear that right shoulder!
Let’s twist again!
Let’s stress that lower back
Let’s twist again!
Let’s tear that knee ligament!
Let’s twist again!

Bastard son of the sport

There’s silence enough for you to spare a thought
To think about why you didn’t give it all you got
That and this and why some stuff happens
Why you stop playing the game
Why you stop living the game
Why you stop

Now the kits are packed
And only a stray bat lies on the side
And it belongs to a guy you never played
Who flew all the way, but you never played
Once upon a time, it was about signs
And not even you knew what would be next
That was the instinct to win
That was the instinct to win
It just crept up on you
And you got the credit
You was gifted
Like some son of the sport
Like some son of the sport

But you never knew how it came
Came to you in a flash
You were honest to the Gods
You were honest to the Gods
Your ads were funny
Your hair was cool
You were on a motorcycle
And you went back in school

But it all changes fast
Like Cat Stevens to Yusuf Islam
People find a new belief
You are no longer the chosen one
You are no longer the chosen one
Your ads are not that funny
You sell too much airtime
You hair is short
You’re on a motorcycle
But you’ve taken us for a ride
How did it go away
Go away in a flash
You're not that gifted anymore
You’re like some bastard son of the sport
You’re like some bastard son of the sport

Who do you play for Dwayne Bravo

Were you handpicked by Sachin Tendulkar’s eye
To play for the Mumbai Indians, sigh!
Were you handpicked by Brian Lara’s eye
To play for the West Indies, sigh!

There are no heroes, there are no heroes left
Where you come from, where you come from, bereft
You can either be in or you can be out
But you know kid, what it is
What it is to hit inside out

Who do you play for
Who do you play for Dwayne Bravo
Do you play for yourself
Do you play for victory
Do you play for yourself
Do you play for the zone
The highlight zone

It’ll take more than a Twenty20 innings
To gather enough drive for long term winnings
You guys, you don’t matter,
Not as a cricketing nation
Not even as a half way filling station

Who do you play for
Trinidad or Tobago?
Who do you play for
Mumbai or the Indians?
Who do you play for?
West or the Indies?
Who do you play for
The ball or the bat

Who do you play for
Dwayne Bravo



Also read What were you thinking Bravo?

The spinner and his batsman friend - I

Two of you, just two of you
From one end of the world to the other
Many long years, so many long years
With you close like your sport's kit
I said with you close like your sport's kit
There ain’t no start there ain’t no end
You’ll be there till you go round the bend
From god knows when to god knows when
You start it off you see it through
The spinner and his batsman friend
They said little yet they said a lot
Actions speak louder than words
I said actions speak louder
Than words
The spinner and his batsman friend

my cricket cocoon!

sketch by jo, age 3

Our lives are small, insignificant, cocooned in cricket
Our lives are big, significant, liberated in cricket
I live by myself in a drain pipe in a cricket cocoon
I live with millions on a field in a cricket cocoon
I live in a cricket cocoon
I live by myself in a cricket cocoon
I live with you in a cricket cocoon
Don’t take my cricket away from me
Don’t take her away from me
I don’t got much else except for her
She don’t got much else except for me
She is my cricket cocoon
I am her cricket cocoon

I cannot see your point of view
I do not see your point of view
There is no other point of view
There is no other point of view

I cry every time I cannot bat
I cry every time I have to give them my bat
I am six years and seven months old
And they take away my bat
I will not play with them
I live in my cricket cocoon

I live all alone by myself and my dreams
They are bigger than your biggest mansion
They are bigger than your biggest spaceship
I do not want to wake up
Just let me be in my cricket cocoon
Just let me be

This Win.

This win
Can feel it my stride
This win
Can feel it as i glide
This win
Can feel it my hide
This win
Can feel it my bones
This win
Can feel it my grip
This win
Can feel it my words
This win
Can feel it my groove
This win
Can feel it right now
This win
It just hit me
Again
This win
It feels different
When you’re rested and awake
This win
I can see you clear

This win
Was a long time coming
But did it come
But did it come
But did it come
Come at the right time
Coming!

This win
In quaint little Cow town
This win
In a quaint little drawing room
This win
Against a quaint little team
This win
Against a guy called Guptill
This win
Against a Ryder called Jesse
This win
Against an Irishman who foresees his losses
This win
Against Vettori’s choirboys
This win
In the Land of the long white cloud

This win
How good is this win?
If it weren’t stacked up
Against history
This win
Needs two more
In two weeks
This win
Can’t get enough
This win
Should not be enough.

Like to see the New look in New Zealand at BCC!

I see my cricketing life (shine before my eyes)

There has got to be a reason
For that one helluva season
There has got to be a reason
Why I served in the army
Why I cannot let them harm me

And I'm flat out in this bus
And I’m laughing to myself
What will you bowl now, Splendid Mendis?
And I’m laughing to myself
What will you bowl now, Splendid Mendis?
I see my cricketing life
Shine before my eyes
And I see
What I will bowl now, Splendid Mendis.

High on Chanderpaul

It's not as if you or I were given out
It was Shivnarine Chanderpaul given out
Not once but twice given out
Not once but twice given out

Checked in for bed & breakfast
Loads of runs, bangers and mash
Scoring runs like a rash
And still he wouldn’t get that Stanford cash!

The finger went up
He stood there holding his empty cup
And then the referral
And then the referral

It pulled the plate right before his eyes
Hungry he was and it hit him high
But these umpires and their crooked lies
Why don’t they get outta here, go bake some pies

Already invested in a bad plan
Lost a million before he won it
A lone man, not part of a clan
Lost a million before he won it

High on Chanderpaul we was
High on Chanderpaul the ball was
High handed on Chanderpaul the umpire was
High handed on Chanderpaul the third umpire was.

3rd umpire's visual evidence for Chanderpaul's Dismissal