Showing posts with label Jumbo. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Jumbo. Show all posts

May 04, 2009

I’ve been waiting for you kid

Why else would I pick you in my fantasy team – you may say I’m a dreamer, but look, Jumbo picked you too, no doubt after a chat with Jammy. I’m convinced the only reason Jammy returned was to have that chat with Jumbo. KP was gone, and you must have thought you were gone too, but then came along Jumbo. Of course, this is what I think. And yeah, glad to see you think too.

Anyway, going back to that fantasy team – appreciate the fact you’ve not been dropped so far (I’m allowed 6 substitutions kid). Seems like ages back that you played that manic 80 odd against the Poms. And then it fell apart. Face it, you scored too fast, you hit the ball in the air too much, and they preferred Gauti to you. You were never ever in contention for a test slot anyway. I never figured that out, don’t think you did either. Worse still, even though you were an opener, doubt the team saw you as opening material, whatever that means. Had you been more of a dullhead, who knows what could have been?

You had your breaks, but they were all over the place, and so were you. Then they put the breaks on you, kid. That T20 world cup and those effusive bows seem like a long way back.

And here you were set to bow out of the IPL. Nobody would remember your straight hits, run-outs, the bows, yes, they are hard to forget.

And then this innings came along, you and mid wicket were an item again. And you scored faster than I could glug my whiskey. That was one heady innings kid, just hope it doesn’t go to your head again. I have a feeling it won’t.

Another thing: do not wear wicketkeeping gloves again, not even in private. Don't want to end up like DK boy and little hearts, do you?



Read more about the kid

September 23, 2008

We’re no pussies, we’re Aussies!

You may not like the way we play
One sided, high handed, dirty minded
Rotten to the core
Always keeping score

We’re no pussies, we’re Aussies

We even dumped our own
When his head bloated, got a little overgrown

We didn’t spare Roy the rod
Till he asked forgiveness of the Lord
We just marshalled on
Like Malcolm X
We’re no pussies, we’re Aussies

So, why do you – behave like you do
Like a meow machine
Always whining
When you’re still arguably the best
Just a little far from your nest
Grow up Pussycat!
Cause I smell a rat
And we’re not idiots, we’re Indians

EASY! That’ll do for now

No it won’t,
We’re not pussies, we’re Aussies
No need to wear no falsies
We are what we are
We’ll show you what we got
Cause your prehistoric party has already lost the plot

No they haven’t
Yes, they have
They’re injured and mangled
You’re soft and silly
What kind of word is silly?
Pussies are silly

STOP IT! We’re not pussies, we’re Aussies
Ha! So you think you can tell
Pussies from Aussies
Like you can
Idiots from Indians

Get out of my way
No I won’t
Yes you will
No I won’t

I’ve had enough
I’m going home!

What do you expect?
From Punter and his Poms
Hey, who do you call a Pom?
Better a pussy or a Pom?

What do you expect?
From a Jumbo and his grounded Jets
Hey who do you call a grounded jet?
Better an idiot or a grounded jet?

We’re not idiots
We’re not pussies
We’re Indians, not idiots
We’re Aussies, not pussies
Not idiots, we’re Indians
Not pussies, we’re Aussies

Birdie num num!


(To be performed by the late Freddie Mercury's Queen, ideally)

Have you been to Bored Cricket Crazy Indians (BCC!) lately?