Friday.
I have never been so insulted in my life. Yes, the pitch is a bit slow, but for Matt Prior to stand up to the stumps when I'm bowling? I can barely express my anger. I'm so full of rage, it's all I can do to type.
Needless to say, I was brilliant today. I softened the batsmen up with some short-pitch bowling so that Swanny and Pately could fill their boots. Of course, I should have had some wickets of my own, but my appeals to the umpires for ones going way over the top or a yard down leg fell on deaf ears. I'm not sure these blokes realise who I am. Cooky didn't fancy any reviews either - not sure what his problem with that is. And the shoddy fielding... This is not what I expect. I did everything I could to rally the guys like you expect from the vice-captain - hold out both arms like the Angel of the North, do the double teapot, lots of glaring at people who are simply making it look like my bowling was shit or something with their pisspoor efforts in the field. I fail to see what else I can do.
Unfortunately, I was still seething about Priory's insult when it came our turn to bat, so I didn't even bother to volunteer to open this time. Instead, I offered helpful tips to the procession of team-mates - Comptony, Andersony, Trotty - coming back into the pavilion about what they should have done instead. I tell you, I wouldn't have got out like that on this. There's bugger all in this pitch.
I'll get my own back on Priory though. I'll get one of my mates to set up a spoof twitter account. Everyone loves that, right?
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