James Horwill : Deep Thought

The management of The Welsh & Welsh Lions were today given a rare insight into the ‘mind’ of James Horwill, the squeaky-clean Wallaby Captain. Horwill, not previously known for putting a foot wrong [check this for me someone, please—MB] , inadvertently left some papers, including his personal tactics & calls notebook, on the seat of a Sydney taxi cab as he was travelling from a court hearing to attend a court hearing.


The driver, passed on the documents to one of a group of Scotsmen who were hanging around the Lions training ground, with nothing to do. The document reveals the inner most thoughts of this, most complex of all international sports stars. Speaking later from inside his restraining cage, Mr Horwill would only say “I like chips with Brown gravy”, before he was muzzled by his keeper and led away to attend a court hearing.

A member of the press asked why The Lions didn’t possess anyone with the wit, charm and grace of Horwill. It was then pointed out that there was one, but as Jim Hamilton is Scottish he was not considered for the team.

Lions officials hope that Horwill’s notebook will give their scratch side, made up of 15 men from the 1 Nations, the edge in Saturday’s match.


Caught Out Crowing on the Crystal Set

So right on cue the English cricketers have reverted to type. Having played like gods for the past fortnight, last night they looked like a pissed pub side. It had to happen, of course, as the night before I was feeling so very, very smug with their performance that I decided to share with the (cricketing) world a little ditty I’d been sent to me by a mate in Sydney.

In the middle of the afternoon’s play, as Aussie wickets were tumbling, my mate Corky who’s working Down Under sent me a text of this song doing the rounds down there about English fast bowler Chris Tremlett.

Oh the weather outside is baking,
The Aussies are for the taking,
And since Tremlett’s stole the show,
Let him bowl, let him bowl, let him bowl.

There’s a mob called testmatchsofa.com who are broadcasting live coverage of the whole ashes series as a sort of boys pub chat alternative to the BBC and Sky. So I decided to tweet them with this Christmas cricket song, hoping they might circulate it. Click here link to hear the result.

Notice that these three lads are, as incredible as it may seem, completely unaware of what The Sharp Single is, the poor naive fools. The other result is, of course, as soon as I decide to start crowing about how great my beloved English team was, they started playing like…well..Englishmen. I’ve never been guilty of counting my chickens, and this is exactly why I, especially when it concerns English cricket. I tempted fate and it bit me right on the arse.

So now I’m desperately trying to compose some spoof version of “In the Bleak Mid Winter” which depicts our batting order as useless arseholes which may reverse our fortunes in Perth tonight, but I feel it’ll be too little too late. So you can blame me. Or really blame Corky. Yes it’s Corky’s fault really. And the pitch. And the umpires. And James Anderson’s missus. And…

Unfair Dinkum

How very dare they!! You travel all the way Down Under to represent HRH Nanny and this is what you’re welcomed with.

What must have Prince William, The Heir to the Throne thought when he arrived at Sydney today? Big, Butch, Bonking, Billy Windsor doesn’t deserve that sort of treatment. Methinks they have him confused with someone else.

Wrong Royal, mate!