Harris Sportsthoughts

Thoughts about Sport

Posts Tagged ‘stuart broad

One Barmy Soldier

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Normally the Barmy Army trumpet rings out it works as a call to arms, the signal for a thousand stupefied contract workers to form a disorderly conga and sing ribald songs about Mitchell Johnson. In Dubai it sounds like a lonely last post. Where is everyone? Perhaps the insurmountable clash of cultures is to blame. Beer snakes and t-shirts bearing unhilarious ‘all Australian people are convicts’ slogans are actually forbidden according to sharia law. Getting lashed is stitched into the constitution of the Barmy Army. But not with an actual lash.

The ICC are hoping that the attendance will double when the series returns to Dubai for the final game. I’m going.

As for the team, maybe they are pining for the boozy encouragement from the sidelines. Or maybe they didn’t prepare properly. A lot has been spoken about the issues that the English batsmen had picking the length of the spinners. Thanks to an e-mail from a nice woman who appears to be doing PR for dhows, I’ve found the reason why:



Written by harrisharrison

January 18, 2012 at 8:40 pm

Allen Attack

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The jubilant curtain is to be drawn down upon an exceptional summer of English cricket in the only manner that befits it. Which is obviously two inane Twenty20 internationals against a reduced West Indies team, sapped of its prime talents by unavoidable commitments to the Champions League or, in the case of Chris Gayle, a sun lounger. The fixtures are the gruffnut on the icing on the English cake. Andy Flower is understood to be angered by the addition to his team’s workload and will undoubtedly take the opportunity to analyse future possibilities, selecting a side so experimental it may as well be eleven guinea pigs scuttling onto the Oval pitch with tiny guinea pig pads on. On that note I’ve literally just paid for my ticket.
The unconventional scheduling is the result of an ECB promise to Sky television, a crummy contractual vestige of the shabby Allen Stanford deal. Here is a recent picture of the disgraced tycoon:
The poor chap looks like he’s been bludgeoned by a blunt medieval weapon.
I’m saying nothing.

Written by harrisharrison

August 24, 2011 at 6:06 pm

Ed Giddins

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I was invited to write a piece on my favourite cricketer for World Cricket Watch and Balanced Sports websites. Other bloggers have also contributed to this series, using it as an opportunity to lyricize about iconic and celebrated figures of the game. I wrote about Ed Giddins. He took drugs and was a bit crap. Seminally crap as it turns out.

Here you go then.




Written by harrisharrison

August 11, 2011 at 8:47 pm

Oh What A Lovely Wall

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It seems that is now illegal to remark on Rahul Dravid‘s qualities as a batsmen without also voicing an additional comment about his good character. Everyone agrees that ‘the Wall’ is indeed a very nice wall. Nasser Hussain went as far to say gushingly that Dravid was a “sensational guy”, perhaps revealing a latent man-crush.

I have once encountered Dravid at close quarters. He was on Oxford St, standing outside Aldo. I can vouch that he appeared very courteous and humble while window-shopping for mid-priced loafers.

I can add Dravid to Shane Warne and Abdul Razzaq to the list of international cricketers that I have seen on Oxford St. It’s a rich seam, particularly when you consider I’ve only come across one footballer in that period. Jan-Aage Fjortoft. In HMV. True story.

I worry about Dravid. He looks a bit spoddy. I can’t help thinking that people might take advantage of his better nature.

We need a wicketkeeper. Rahul, put your pads and gloves on.

We need an opener. Rahul, put your pads and gloves on.

We need a wicketkeeper, and then opener immediately afterwards. Rahul, put your pads and gloves on and then put your other pads and gloves on.

Rahul, make us a brew.

Rahul, go get us some fags and a Toffee Crisp.

And so on.

Bet he makes a nice cup of tea.

Written by harrisharrison

July 25, 2011 at 8:49 pm

Selectors Prefer Blondes?

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It is the debate that has split the country in two. The nation has not been this riven since a roundhead first offered a cavalier outside to taste his musket. It’s Blur vs Oasis. Moore vs Connery. Pro-life vs abortion.

The latest hot spud demands that each and everyone of us ask fundamental questions of our own worldview and decide exactly where we stand. Do you prefer brunettes or blondes? State or private education? North or south (Leicestershire)? Burly or willowy? Tall or really tall? Swing or seam?

Yes. It’s the continuing discussion as to whether the England selectors will opt for Tim Bresnan or Stuart Broad for the first test at Lords.

I’d go for Bresnan. The selectors will probably plump for Broad. I don’t know really.


Written by harrisharrison

July 19, 2011 at 7:42 pm

Torso Of The Year

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I thought I’d seen everything in cricket until I saw a photo of Stuart Broad emerging like a wet Bond girl from the ocean in the ‘Torso of the Week’ section of celebrity tatmag Heat. The dark poetry of which is that the beautiful Broad abdomen has since been torn asunder and denied him any further involvement in the series.

The England management consider Chris Tremlett to be a suitable bowling replacement but if Heat magazine have a void to fill on their pretty-boy centrefold then the Surrey man is adequately sculpted also, as this eye-popping and slightly frightening picture testifies:

There seems to be some grass on the wicket. Maybe he asked for a Perth.

Written by harrisharrison

December 16, 2010 at 6:46 am

I Dream Of Ritzy

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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

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