We have arranged for exclusive extracts from Stuart Broad's diaries to be passed to us by a shadowy intermediary so we can share them here with you, dear reader. Here's the first missive.
Thursday.
Cooky came in and said he'd lost the toss and would bowl. I asked if he was sure he'd lost it and whether he'd considered reviewing it, but he seemed content enough.
So we bowled today. This was very exciting. You see, the regulations have changed to allow two shoulder-high balls per over. I piled loads of short balls down as fast as I could, but for some bizarre reason it didn't work. I mean, I tried everything: glaring at the umpire, glaring at Cooky, glaring at Michael Atherton, glaring at some guy in the crowd who called me 'benchod'.... nothing.
Second spell was just as futile. Tried reviewing a couple of decisions when the batsman got the bat within an inch of the ball, but Cooky didn't seem to fancy it. I got to use the second new ball late on and got one to move away and brush the edge. Again, nothing. Glared at the ground staff, but that was the end of things for today. It was nice to see Yuvraj though. He said something about 'Durban' to me, but I just glared at him. That showed him.
Bobbed out after dinner for a look round Ahmedabad. The tuk-tuk driver was really taking the piss with his fare. Tried reviewing it, but he told me to stop being such a massive pillock and pay up. Glared at him. I think I won that exchange.
So back out there tomorrow and we need early wickets. I'll have a quick net in the morning to sharpen up my short ball. It's a surefire means of success, you mark my words.
No comments:
Post a Comment