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This, that and the other. Mostly the other
I'm about to play my 100th Test but I hate Test cricket. How do I keep myself awake through the whole shebang? asks Sweet_Azz T20 Star
Firstly, congratulations on your 100th Test. And wow, no doubt you hate Test cricket. I think I'd hate anything that I spent more than a full year of my life doing, unless it involved sleeping or alcohol. Since watching Test cricket involves alcohol, and playing ideally does not, you're coming out at the bottom of the arrangement.
Frankly, if you're old enough to be playing your 100th Test then you're really bloody old and no one can rightly expect you to stay awake for the entire thing. Take a lesson from the blokes in the Long Room and drop off to sleep when you are not actually batting or bowling. You can get a substitute fielder on these days.
My dog wants to go to county cricket every day. Is there a way to train pets not to misbehave in this manner? asks Pet Refyed
Clicker training is apparently a good way to train your pets to behave, as is the use of rewards. You might try asking yourself what your dog gets out of county cricket that you are not otherwise providing in its life. Rain? Young men with odd names?
Why not just embrace your dog's love of the game? Otherwise teams will have to find a new dog to complete their "three men and a dog" spectator requirements.
N Srinivasan seems to be desperate to remain in cricket administration despite nobody wanting him to. Is there a hobby he can take up for all our sakes? ICC man
Macramé? Pole dancing? Surely there must be something that allows him to exercise his desire for authority and tin-pot dictatorship? Perhaps we should all club together and buy him his own island. Then he could be an actual tin-pot dictator. I'd feel a bit crap for all of the people who live on the island, but hey, at least he'd be leaving us alone.
Is Danny Morrison from another planet? asks UFO Sighter
You know, this would make a lot of sense (Unlike Danny Morrison, who makes no goddamn sense.)
Aliens, having not realised that fast bowlers are supposed to be tall, created Danny and left him here as part of an experiment, the purpose of which I cannot imagine.
But you would think after a few decades living on earth he'd have some idea of normal human behaviour, which he clearly doesn't. (Those of you living on the subcontinent, please stop encouraging him, although that might mean we in New Zealand have to start dealing with him again.)
My theory is that alien-created humans don't live that long, or they have to be returned to the mother ship after six years or so for data downloading or something like that. So every half a dozen years they replace Danny with a clone (that might have been a better script, Oblivion's scriptwriters) who doesn't know how to act like a normal person yet, and whisk away one that might be developing appropriate human behaviours off into space again.
I actually think this is the most charitable explanation for Danny to have been mooted yet.
With all of these match-fixing scandals and the ACSU not being able to keep secure and sensitive documents away from the Daily Mail, I don't know if I can stand any more cricketing heartbreak. Will I ever be able to trust the game again? asks It's Tricket
Oh, my sweet summer child, if you ever thought you could trust cricket before, I don't think even I will be able to rebuild your shattered delusions.
But I know how you feel. I'm experiencing empathy for you, which is uncomfortable and I don't particularly like it.
Aside from lots and lots of vodka, all I can think of doing is casting your mind back to when you first felt cricket wrap its icy fingers around your heart. Who, back in those halcyon days when you didn't understand squat, was your idol? (If they have already been snapped for match-fixing, pick another idol.) Locate your idol, wrap your greasy little arms around them and...
…never read another thing about them again. Let them exist only in your perfect memories. Never figure out that they may be human beings or alien creatures corrupted by humanity. They will be your totem. They will be the one shining thing you hold against corruption and match-fixing and being forced to visit the Daily Fail website. Hold them in your heart. Cuddle them at night.
And let's face it, you'll be back. They always come back.
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Trish Plunket is a grumpy old man. Except she's not old. Or a man
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