Angry

Dale Steyn's default mood

Stuart Broad Indian diary - an apology

We apologise for the non-appearance of days three to five of our exclusive extracts from Stuart Broad's diary, but we were busy and it transpires anyway that, in light of his comments after the game, particularly those exchanged with Ian Botham, he is completely, totally and utterly unsatirisable.

Stuart Broad's Indian diary - day two

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?

Y

Letter added to the end of an England player's surname to create a whole new and inventive nickname, e.g. Straussy, Cooky, Pately, Nawab of Pataudi-y

Stuart Broad's Indian diary - day one

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.