Darren Gough is dead to me

I forgave him the treachery of leaving for Essex.

I forgave him the spangles and sequins and the cha-cha-cha.

I forgave him for the fact that his perma-tan often seemed more important than the business of taking wickets.

I forgave him the biscuit knees that meant he could only bowl in four-over spells.

And I forgave him all that because of 90mph inswinging yorkers that were simply to die for.

But I can't forgive him for this.

Darren Gough is dead to me.