This game is close to becoming the most perennial of sports. While deciduous varieties such as Rugby league, Basketball and Lacrosse sensibly take time out for their athletes to mend broken bodies and count their money, cricket seems to power on through the seasons like some lumbering buffalo searching for the next green pasture. It can not be stopped! This may explain the current spate of seemingly brainless explosions of violence and decision making that is re energising my already burgeoning love for the 'gentleman's' game.
Take for example the current Australian team tour to New Zealand. The land of the long white cloud (what does that mean anyway?) is cool at the warmest of times but here we are, nearly a quarter of the way through Autumn and these summer soldiers are battling on into the cold months while threatening to be devoured by the beast that is Rugby Union in New Zealand. Cricket is struggling for relevance in many countries at the very best of times so to schedule a cricket series in a country that is about to start their annual 6 month long prayer to the God Rugby seems down right suicidal.
Luckily people in both Australia and New Zealand are reared to have a healthy revulsion of one another. And in contests between these two antipodean cousins, emotions fortunately boil over more often than not. This violent reaction towards one another has been the saviour of many an irrelevant sporting contest between the two nations and I am glad to see that this tradition continues. Take it away Mitchell Johnson and Scott Styris...
Thank goodness for fast bowlers hey? Only their breed are stupid enough to have the presence of mind to realise headbutting a helmeted psycho carrying a bat would be so damn hilarious. To add to the dumbness, Mitch Johnson is possibly the most un-scary cricketer who thought he was scary since Brett Lee. And if you have ever seen Scott Styris in the flesh you will know that he is one of those south island, dairy farmer's son looking Kiwis who has probably only just learnt that using his bat as a means of communicating with a bowlers face is frowned upon at international level. Good work fellas, Played Hard, Done Good! salutes your imbecility.