People like so nasty things about other people and other things. Things like, you can’t wear green and red together and if you are short, you are a midget and you will never be a fast bowler. People also say South Africa are chokers and tall people can’t bowl spin. Only 10% of these statements are true. My favourite nasty thing is: Test cricket is dead.
This hurts me, because if Test cricket were a man, he would be average height (actually, a bit a short) with black scruffy hair. Ripped like Mitchell Johnson with piercing green eyes which he hides behind his glasses. And he would be in love with me. And I would be in love with him. And we would be one of those annoyingly in love couples.
So, when somebody insults your lover like that, you get pissed off.
But then, once in a while, your nerdy, brooding but still incredibly sexy lover does something so remarkable everybody sits back, gasp in unison and apologize with an under-their-breath mumble.
He might have achieved this remarkable deed at somebody else’s expense but that doesn’t matter.
England and Pakistan have once again proven that Test cricket is alive, it’s kicking, screaming and it’s damn sexy.
It does mean that Jonathan Trott spent a long time digging crop circles on the pitch with Stuart Broad by his side, annoying everyone who is not English all while Pakistan had been thrown over their knee, had their pants ripped off and their bottoms smacked until it started bleeding but they’ve shown that Test cricket is brilliant. Thank you Pakistan for becoming a martyr.
It’s exciting and batting collapses take us all back to our teenage years when we went on a date with somebody and tried hard to get to third base with our awkward and dumb hands and our heart beating out of our chest. That feeling that you only feel when you’re young, dumb and…juvenile.
Test cricket is brilliant. Test cricket is life. Test cricket is the reason I live.