Harris Sportsthoughts

Thoughts about Sport

I Dream Of Ritzy

with 2 comments

I don’t normally feel the necessity to relate the dreams I’ve had. Being so personal it’s the ultimate ‘you had to be there’ anecdote. But this weekend I’ve experienced such a bewildering succession of cricket-themed dreams I’m compelled to share. Each one is more surreal in its narrative construct than the last.

Firstly I dreamt I was Kevin Pietersen. I do this quite regularly. Usually I’m playing cricket. This time I was being introduced to the world as the sixth member of fresh-faced new boyband One Direction. I was explaining to the attendant press that I had been recruited to be the vital “cool, older one” in the line-up.

Then I was Stuart Broad. This happens less frequently. I had returned to England following my stomach injury and I was forlornly trying to recreate the Ashes in the street outside my house. My team-mates and opponents were recruited from local youngsters. The series was curtailed by irate neighbour with a ginger moustache who complained that we’d smashed one of his windows.

Finally I dreamt that Nathan Hauritz held a garage sale to flog some of his old Australian jumpers. Actually I was awake when I was dreaming this. And I wasn’t dreaming it, I was reading it across the rolling bar on Sky Sports News.

Whatever the motivation was for Hauritz to pursue this enterprise, it is odd for a professional sportsman to involve himself in something that is usually the preserve of pre-pubescent Blue Peter viewers. It’s been reported that Hauritz organised the sale as a final act of defiance against an unthinking selection policy, the last symbolic protest of a discarded manchild. If this so, then t’s tragic. If I had have dreamt it, there would have been tears on my pillow.

Tonight’s dream: Shane Warne and Liz Hurley.



Written by harrisharrison

December 13, 2010 at 9:07 pm

2 Responses

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  1. “I don’t normally feel the necessity to relate the dreams I’ve had”. Really? The Pikachu one and the one where you had to run the Grand National in pink silks without a horse immediately spring to mind.


    December 13, 2010 at 10:58 pm

    • And the one when I called Thierry Henry a “sanctimonious little shit” because he wouldn’t play five-a-side in skins.


      December 13, 2010 at 11:26 pm

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