A bit of a broken head

The England dressing room. Coach Flower pinned a teamsheet to the wall. Players gathered round.

"Yes!" said Alastair Cook. "Still in! They said I hadn't scored a century for a while, but I showed them."

"Yeah, but it took you seven Test innings," said Jonathan Trott. "You're meant to do it all in one knock. One long, painstaking, relentless knock, with lots of marking out your guard and checking that the wristband on your gloves is perfectly aligned with the popping crease. Sometimes, I like to scratch a little mark in the turf in line with the cr-"

"Well, this is all jolly fascinating, Trotty, old stick," said Strauss. "But I fear we may have to save it for another day. We've got to go down to the nets and practise having balls thrown at us by Broady."

"Not me, Straussy," pleaded Ian Bell. "I'm only getting over my injury and Broady gets all mean and shouts and looks angry and chucks the ball at your head - in the context of a competitive atmosphere, where obviously things can boil over in the heat of the moment, obviously."

"Yes," said Strauss. "Well, with all you fine batting chaps all vying for places in the team, perhaps a few sessions facing The Wrath Of Stuart might be a way to ensure a few spots open up. After all, you can't all be in the team. Not with a broken head, eh what?"

"Is that what they mean by a selection headache?" asked Cook.

"Like when Broady throws the ball at your head and it hits you and it hurts like loads and loads?" said Bell. "Cos I don't think he should be allowed to do that, not under EU regulations and what Ranjan Madugalle told us about correct behaviour on the field of play."

"Oh don't be so wet, Belly," said Strauss. "A bit of a broken head never did anyone any harm. Come on you chaps. Last one in the nets has to go and sit with poor Michael Carberry and explain why we still won't let him come and have a go."