by daniel
16. May 2010 14:04
On Friday I watched the bewildered eyes of fellow commentator Ahmer widen, fill with embryonic tears and slam shut to block out the hideous light shining from Jarrod’s triumphant teeth and I was filled with a fearful dread. Finally Ahmer composed himself and said softly “why are they always such bastards?” It was impossible at this moment to know whether he referred to Australia, who had just, unimaginably from their parlous position, stolen Ahmer’s moment of glory, or his own players who had made him believe and then coshed him over the head with the stinking, putrefying wombat of reality. “God must have many places for Pakistani fans in heaven, because he puts us through hell on earth” was his ultimate summation. And then I realised it was my turn next.
Today England take on the Aussies. They’re in better form than the Pakistanis were. They are well drilled, able to adapt their game to different conditions, as their stunning wins in both St. Lucia and Barbados attest, and have no pressure on their shoulders. Why shouldn’t we dream? We won our last ODI against them (albeit after losing the previous 6). Of all the teams in the tournament we probably relish fast bowling the most. We’ve got the bloody Ashes for heaven’s sake.
But believe me it’s not as simple as that. If you’d seen the encroaching smugness gather from the third last over of that semi on Jarrod’s widening chops. If you’d seen him lean ever so slightly further forward as the penultimate over yielded a succession of 2s, keeping Hussey on strike. If you’d watched with resignation and terror as he leaned back in his armchair, overwhelmed by a grin so mammoth his eyes disappeared into the flabby contours of his ecstatic face as the final apocalyptic six sailed over the mid wicket boundary, you’d know there is no hope. They always win. Because, Ahmer, they are always such bastards.