So, a few months ago, when I was arranging my trip to Hong Kong and I was deciding whether to go at the end of October or in February for my birthday? It would have been great to know this
I went to Kent vs Somerset at Canterbury. We're not mentioning the score, The Enforcer, McClaren and Tredwell were the only players to bother playing cricket.

Anyway, that's beside the point.

I was sitting in front of two old ladies. Their conversation included the following gems:

1) "Is that the wicket keeper, the England one? He's very sweet."
2) "I don't really like Australians" "no" "They're very uncouth."
3) "I could've run Justin Langer out from there."
4) "He (Marcus Trescothick) is a very good looking young man."

It was entirely possible these two ladies were future versions of [ profile] indian_skimmer and I. Because, should time travel be invented by the time we're 70, we would so use it to go back and watch Geraint.
I may have had a little bit of a temper tantrum and threatened to go home at the 32nd over, but then Darren Stevens hit 3 fours in an over whilst I was in the toilet. I like to think Darren Stevens was being special just for me.

However, I am now of the firm opinion that Kent get paid by the over, as it's the only way to explain why they take every damn game to the final ball.

There was surprise Harmison, Geraint doing a little demonstration of a running man so that they'd send Joe Denly on as a runner, and two drunk men who took four overs to subtract 89 from 204.

[ profile] akkrenskarin Sorry, I was going to come and speak to you at the interval but I got distracted by the shiny trophy and then had to dash off at the end. I take it that the lucky seat has regained its power?
Firstly, I would like to apologise to the five Sussex supporters who were sat in front of me for all the screaming and yelling I did in their ears.

Secondly, I would like to apologise to the well intentioned Kent fan sat beside me, who with Kent needing 4 runs off four balls in the semi-final, uttered the Fate-tempting phrase "we can do it from here". I'm sorry I turned on you and told you I would personally eject you from the ground if you ever said that again. However, I would have done and you needed to be warned. You should know better than that.

I had an utterly fantastic day, helped in no small amount by the fact that Kent won. It appears that my terrible, awful cricket karma of the past two years momentarily left me as the day was packed with superb happenings.

Don't get me wrong, this in no way makes up for the hysterical wicket-keeper related depression which descended this time last year, but it is more than worthy repayment for the destruction of the Special Weekend of Specialness, the missing of Geraint's century, and the withdrawal of Sangakkara from Sangakarra week.

things that were fantastic about Twenty20 Finals Day )

[ profile] akkrenskarin Did you eat your hat yet?
Has anything interesting happened in that time? Erm....

There were Fantastic Lemurs. They jumped and stretched and yawned. Unfortunately I missed the oportunity to scratch one behind the ears because I was being good and following The Not-Stroking-Wild-Animals-and-Getting-Your-Arm-Ripped-Off Rule.

There was Batting!Geraint (who has been worryingly absent up until this point)

There was a surprise meeting with [ profile] akkrenskarin (although not that much of a surprise seeing as it was at St Lawrence) and a personal tour through Canterbury shopping centre.

There was a mediocre England performance. (BTW, I'm pretending Matt Prior doesn't exist, there's an invisible man keeping wicket for England atm - I am not retiring the List of Idiotic People with Ridiculously Optimistic Opinions about Matt Prior just yet)

There was the devestating news that Sangakkara won't be playing in the championship on the days I'd planned to go and see him Warwickshire. I'm thinking of writing a letter to Sri Lanka asking for him back.
I had the journey home from hell yesterday. It took me seven hours to get home from Leicester (it usually takes an hour and a half): including three hours sat stock still on the M1; four roads being closed just as I was getting on them; nearly being squashed by an HGV being blown over; one full travelodge; and more of Northampton than I ever wished to see. Thanks to [ profile] indian_skimmer for the remote travelodge location and Stuart Broad related entertainment.

England/Australia one day match (I don't actually know which one we're on - it's just one long nightmare )

South Africans )

Geraint News )
Okay, it's at least a week since I mentioned Geraint Jones. You'd think there was something wrong with me if I stopped completely. If you ever needed a definition of "strong character", this is it.
I'm not sure I know a single person who wouldn't just hide under the duvet for a couple of months after the winter he's had. I've spent a large proportion of this winter hiding under the duvet (one day series? what one day series?) and I wasn't even in Australia.

In other news:

I had my appraisal at work in which my boss was extraordinarily enthusistic about me and told me that I was a "very powerful woman". It makes you wonder what she'd say if I didn't spend a large amount of my work time on the internet. She also informed me that the executive committee were slightly scared of me and 'wouldn't dare' to disagree with one of my policies: She seemed to suggest this was a bad thing. Ruling by fear is one thing; using fear to prevent other people from ruling you is a superb achievement. Go me!

I have the hugely important, lifepath-determining research proposal to write in the next few weeks: It basically decides whether I get the money to do my PhD or not. (Well, that and the opinion of stuffy rich people, so the hope is pretty slim already). It scares me, so I'm prevaricating a great deal. My flat has never been tidier.

Cat still missing. Must let go.
Okay, I've just spent the last 4 hours manually calculating bye stats for international wicketkeepers.

This may tell you more about me than anything else I have ever, or will ever say in this journal.
This new dance has to communicate three things:

a) An overwhelming sense of relief
b) How much I love Duncan Fletcher
c) Geraint Jones's wonderfulness.

The best news ever
Charles Colville's closing comment to Geraint Jones:

"Can I just say how well groomed you look? You smell nice as well."

I didn't make that up. I rewound my video to make sure.

Geraint *is* very well groomed, and I'm sure he smells acceptable too, but I never really expected his fellow commentators to announce it on air.
It was always going to be hard for me to retain my interest in the Champions Trophy for three reasons:

1) It's the ICC Champions Trophy and the ashes are 40 days away.
2) England are going to be humiliated
3) I'm still angry about The Event.

So, how were Sky going to engage their usually loyal watcher? There really was only one option: Employ Geraint Jones as a commentator

So what have they done?
Employed Geraint Jones as a Commentator

He might be wearing a suit!

It's England's first match, they dropped Geraint Jones, so what do Sky Sports do? Make it Official Geraint Jones Day!

Here's hoping Chris Read plays as abjectly as he did last match and they let Geraint grin on camera.
County Geraint Update )

On another note, could everyone please start praying for Matthew Hoggard? We can't lose him as well! I won't have anyone left in the team!


Sep. 12th, 2006 08:45 pm
They made the right choice! Well, except for the part where they filled the squad with injured players, and made a guy who can't walk the captain, but the *important* part, they got right.

While I'm still going to worry about the fact Jones might not be selected to play, the pain will be eased by photographs of him relaxing by the pool.

Now, all we have to do is actually win.
Basically, they're made so that I can watch West Wing in bed.

Apparantly they're also made so that I can spend them visiting friends who insist on having babies. This baby was ginger though so I had to do my bit to induct her into the Ginger Way of Life. I told her about suncream and freckles and never *ever* going swimming after dying your hair.

County Geraint Watch )
I love my cricket for so many reasons, but above all it's probably the fact that it can be so completely and utterly farcical during incredibly momentous ocassions. That and the fact they stop for cake.

Remember last year when we waited an hour and a half for the rules to allow England to actually win the Ashes? This was even more ridonculous.

Cue the opportunity for many puns about tampering with balls. As if cricket wasn't gay enough already. )

Poor, Poor Andrew Strauss )

Steve's Fake Injury Goes Unnoticed in all the Fuss )

And the Obligatory Discussion of Geraint Jones )
If the selectors are going to insist on picking you, even if it is just to keep the gloves warm, could you please do the following things:

a) Catch the ball. Even if you feel you're going to miss it, your job is to give it a go, not leave it to first slip. In particular, don't half go, disturb the fielder and then not have the bottle to go through with it.

b) Appeal. Even if you're not sure, it's your job to let the bowlers know you think they're just about to get a wicket. It's called encouragement.

c) When you're batting, try to avoid hitting the ball into your own stumps. That's three innings now you've tried it, just because it's the first time you got out, doesn't mean it's a sensible shot. Also, that huge gap between your pad and your bat? The one that's big enough to see the stumps through? Not supposed to be there.

d) Try not to look like a girl when faced by a quick bowler. I know they're scary, but Brett Lee is a lot scarier.

With no regard whatsoever, Me.
So, it turns out my mood is directly related to how happy Geraint Jones appears to be. It's entirely possible I need professional help.

Scored a brilliant 40 not out off 30 balls to set up a Kent win. Even Bob Willis said it was brilliant, that's not just my over enthusiasm. One catches, a superb run out and usual high standard keeping, all with a broken finger.

Everyone at Kent likes him, he has his own large South African and he gets cheered and mobbed by small children. I'd be happy if he stayed being happy there instead of being sacrificed on the alter of Britain's sports media.

Fuck That

Aug. 8th, 2006 08:49 pm
Fuck Chris Read and the luckiest bloody innings of his life. Bastard.

County Geraint Watch

Scored 38 against Warne in a low scoring match, and a long 28 not out which would have won the game if the tail enders hadn't capitulated.

He plays again tomorrow, everyone please keep your fingers crossed for a brilliant century, or at the very least for Kent to send him in earlier than number fucking 8.
This time last week I was in a fantastic mood.

I can't believe the bastards dropped him...I have never, ever wished defeat on the England team, but now I genuinely don't give a crap.

I cannot explain how absolutely devestated I am.

And in case anyone is thinking it, now would not be the time to tell me it's not important in the scheme of things. I live my life by the little things because the big things have a tendency screw me over. When the little things start to do it I'm a little lost at how to cope.

March 2014

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