Tag Archives: James Anderson

Very Good Gentlemen

7 Dec

I was going to post a rather long and thought-provoking assessment of the imminent collapse of the euro. But fuck that, did you see what happened in Adelaide?

Don't you just melt when men embrace each other publicly?

A wise man once said, “Cricket civilizes people and creates good gentlemen.” Okay, it was Robert Mugabe, but on this account, he was right. Harold Pinter once said, “I tend to think that cricket is the greatest thing that God ever created on earth—certainly greater than sex, although sex isn’t too bad either,” and he too was spot on.

A Proud Man Celebrating

A Big Baby Crying

England have won the second test of the 2010 Ashes. They won. By an innings. At one point, three wickets were taken in four deliveries.

Never have eleven men made me so happy over such a short period of time (okay, once before, but we won’t go into that). I am very proud of the lads. I only wish I could have been there to show them just how proud (and by proud, I do mean aroused) I am. I shall fall to sleep now dreaming of each and every one of them, wood in hand, showing me their talents at the crease.

An Unashamed Premature Ejaculation

3 Dec


I try to keep my ejaculations appropriately timed—those who vociferate too early look over-eager and those who wait until others start cheering end up looking like sycophants.

But I’ve come over all excited by the opening of the Adelaide test!

When the first wicket fell, Christopher uttered a sudden loud cry and to be honest, I felt embarrassed for him. I’ve had experience with Australians going down quickly and they rarely bring satisfaction in the long run (which is why I no longer accept drinks from men at Walkabout). But when Ponting was out for a golden duck, I admit my face flushed and I could feel the dew on my forehead. Christopher poured me my second highball (I need the caffeine to help keep me awake), and, fuck me, if Clarke wasn’t out, caught in the slips.

Could this really be happening?

Today of all days, England needed a sporting boost. This could be it. I know it may be early  but thank you, my men in flannels, for an incredible start.


Christopher has now slipped into his jim-jams and curled up by the fire. But I can assure you: all night long, I’ll be awake—with bated breathe, racing pulse and slightly moistened thighs.