Warks vs Somerset, FP Trophy

Sooooo, I managed to make it to the first FP match at Edgbaston on the weekend. Beautiful lovely super mega awesome sunny day, so I took the boy along to watch T'Bears bat reasonably well and fail with the ball. He's not 4 yet, and not really interested in the game in the slightest, but on the way up the M6 he remembered that there were bears, and that one had a bow. Bless him. Plan was to take him and bring him back home when he got bored, and hopefully return alone later. Expecting this to be leaving after 10 overs, the dude managed 47 overs in the end. That's my guy.

Actual player reviewy bits...

Bell did well. His ton came at a rate around 90, but with plenty of signs that he was there to prove form for England rather than win the match. He perished for 108. I have to assume that once he did get the ton he immediately hit out and got caught. I have to assume this as the little man needed the loo, and whilst I managed to drag out the route to the toilets while Bell painfully slowly went from 96 to 100, I didn't dare delay him any longer..! More evidence of him trying to prove form was that when Bears were fielding he dissapeared a little over half way through, with Miller replacing him as a sub for the rest of the match.

Woakes also had a reasonable day. At least as reasonable as any bowler on the side which only took 2 wickets in 45 overs. He and Ant Botha responsible for converting a probably average 240ish score to 271, both of them going at over 150. Nice to see that after a slow middle due to a collapse containing a duck for Maddy and a single for Tiny Tim.

Also good to see was the new boy Keith Barker. On debut from the 2nd XI (with Carter being crook) he hit a nice 28 and then bowled a really tidy 1/47 off of his full 10 overs. Maybe we'll see more of him in the future. Nice one.


So outside of my attempt at being serious, how's this...

We're in the pavilion in the first innings, because the little man wanted to get inside and have a snack. He loves fiddling with things and kept asking to open the sliding doors there, to which I say no so he doesn't annoy people. Now after a bit a nice little old lady comes along the front and goes to open the door, and I suggest Jake might like to help her. He's a shy little dude, so politely declines. Meanwhile the lady has come in, and is aware that he didn't want to help her. With a really nice smile and a soft gentle voice she says:


"They never do want to help do they? Children these days, I don't know. Oh well. It's how you lot bring them up, you know."

Anyone else been the subject of such a massive sweeping insult but be so amazed at the time to even realise it until the moment's gone?

Oh and there's a lovely new hover cover there. Rock on.

Andy Foreigner FTW!!!!!11

Andy Flower is, as expected, the new England Coach. Seems that Strauss didn't want a Coach role at all, more a team manager, but daren't say so to the press. Either way, good luck to him. Please.

This appointment is important, right? It's a widely held belief that the coach is responsible for form and results to a level where he (or she, or it) is held more accountable for failures in a team than the goons holding the lumps of willow themselves.

So with that established, how is it logical that that person is allowed to not be of the nationality of the team? If it's so critical then that surely means that it is significantly representative of the country in question, so how can Johnny foreigner be allowed that job?

Seems to be even more so the case with Association Football, where out national team had a Swede, then a Brit (for national pride to be restored) and then when national pride was seen to be a sack of poop, he was given the elbow and replaced with an... Italian? Or is he Spanish? Not sure. When England failed to get in that Euro tournament the other year, the manager got the boot, not the players.

Anyway, seems I'm just saying the same thing again and again so I'll stop.. but isn't it just a little weird logically??

Pink bobby gets ready for the new season

I was trying to work out how I ended up following one of the disputed greats of English cricket in Coventry last week.

Then I realised that he must have come up the M1, off at Junction 14 to the M45 and then along the A45, B4113, A429, A4053 and then 4th exit to Croft Road to get to the new IKEA there.

How anyone could not take advantage of the discounted Ringo barstools I have no idea. They'll look just great in the new Rob Key bar in the Rob Key pavilion, at the north end of the Rob Key ground in his back garden. He had to cut a hole in the side of the shed pavilion to fit the back of the ALBA TV through to get that "flat panel" look, and once he's covered the sticky out bit with a tarpaulin, jobs a good 'un.

Formal dedication next Tuesday, limit of 2 mini sausage rolls per person, BYOB.

I'm not playing

I'm sportin rings and things, that's what money brings
If you act like you know I'll put you under my wing
If you act otherwise, and try to demise me
Take me for granted, then try to surprise me
I'm not a dreg, I'll break your legs
Because you're yellow, just like the yolk of an egg
He's DJ Diamond D, and I'm the Master Rob
MC's bitin my rhymes like they were corn on the cob
Or should I say cake, from the bites you take
Know what I'm sayin? I'm not playin

Thanks for that, Ultimate Force. Whoever you are. Wise words I think you'll all agree.

But I'm not playing. Not this year. My kit bag with my 70% off helmet, 70% off pads and full price, mid range thigh pad aren't seeing the light of day until at least next year.

When I moved out of the middle of Limpsville [also known as Coventry] to a nice small villagey towny place I thought it'd be a great way to get involved with the community by tracking down the local cricket club and having a go. I went to net sessions at Edgbaston an the likes, spending many many days in considerable pain due to rock bottom fitness levels and the likes. But after a hell of a lot of good intentions and availability I've been asked to play one measley match in 2 years, successfully blocking out the last 3 overs of a dead match and standing at long leg the rest of the time.

I've got bitter, oh yeah you bet. I want to be up there painting the pavilion and shifting piles of loam, but if I'm not even wanted unless *ALL* the 12 year old kids are ill in bed then maybe I'll just take the hint, huh?

With a bit of luck by this time next year I'll be living in a different villagey town type thing as a home owner and I'll try again by golly gosh. Few years down the line my little boy will hopefully be interested in playing in the kids matches, and I'd like to think I'd happily be turning up to put out the pointy flags 20 metres inside the boundary line for them. We'll see.