Day 1
Arrive at Hanse Croje International at 2.30am, feeling
decidedly not good. I think that has to be the
worst in-flight catering I’ve tasted since Warney, ‘Punter’ Ponting and
myself flew with Aussie discount company Eazy-Flite to the arse-end of
nowhere for a benefit game in aid of ‘Friends of Allan Border’. Straight
off to bed, after washing down a couple of Nurofens with a Red Bull from
the mini bar.
Day 2
Spent the day catching up on sleep after a restless
night - can’t understand why.
Day 5
First day’s practice was muted after news that poor
old Butch’ had twisted his knee whilst applying roll-on deodorant in the
hotel room. Managed to bore a hole in the team bus with an off drive off
Jimmy A’s horrible bowling. He seems to have lost it a bit recently -
still, at least he’s got rid of that daft red streak in his barnet. The
big ponce.
Day 7
Went off on one of those safaris like what you see in
Tarzan films, only Tarzan wasn’t there. But there were lots of lions,
tigers, elephants and stuff - poor old Jones the K shit his whack and
hid underneath some tarpaulin in the back of the pick-up on seeing the
rhino. Mind you, this thing was built like Fat Bob Key after a big feed
in the Sevenoaks services.
Day 8
 F***
my luck. I’ve been made twelfth man for the opening match against the
Bloomfentein Amateur Neo-Nazi XI. It didn’t help much when Butch pulled
up with a groin strain when trotting out to bat. Tresco asked their man
Ray Jennings, who’s the South Africans coach, whether I could play,
seeing as the game hadn’t actually begun - he said no, and went back to
hitting cricket balls at Graeme Smith’s knees - apparently as punishment
for not ironing his batting gloves.
Day 10
A well earned rest from safaris and signing
autographs. Went off to do a bit of early xmas shopping, and bugger me
if I didn’t meet Beefy who was doing a charity walk round Johannesburg’s
less salubrious bars. “ Alright you fat bastard “, said Beefy, “ wanna
join me - all the money’s going to a good cause. You fat bastard. “ He
cracks me up, does Beefy - a living legend and a top bloke. “ Come on
then, what are you waiting for you fat bastard - it’s your round. “
Cracks me up.
Day 16
We won the First Test, but I can’t be arsed to write
about it. Afterwards, Thorpey got stung by a bloody great bee, which was
brilliant. He was hopping round the room like a nutter - then he turned
blue. Tresco started panicking and reckoned he had Ana-whotsit shock or
summat. Weird, that’s all I know. Got a call from Goughy after the game
- he did a fart down the phone, which always creases me up - it’s a
tradition with us, we’re like brothers us two. I look out for him, and
he does farts down the phone.
Day 18
My hotel room is rubbish. There’s no cable TV, and the
bed is too soft for my liking. So I knock on Jones the K’s door, pick
him up by the scruff and kick him into the lobby. He’s got a better room
than me, and I’m not having that - so he can go and share with old
spanner features Strauss. Not a bad bloke, but spends most of his time
reading books ! I mean “ hello !? " like, hasn’t he ever heard of the
telly.
Day 22
Watched the SA version of Big Brother during our first
innings, and man, they’ve got birds even uglier than that Jade. One of
them was a right horrible munter - and she was the fit bird presenting
it ! Not a patch on Darius McCall, who’s dead lush and horny in a kind
of ‘she’ll do’ way.
Day 22 ( Night )
Everyone’s gone home, but still here in the dressing
room, watching BB. Don’t want to miss anything - the transfer’s six
minutes from the ground to the Eddie Barlow Marriot, and the only decent
bird in the show has been threatening to get her lils out for the last
six hours.
Day 23 ( 00.04am )
She’s still havin’ none of it.
Day 24
The camp is once again thrown into disarray, following
the sad news that Butch had dislocated his ankle whilst laughing at a
video of Steve Harmison’s barbecue ( the one when Simon Jones and
Matthew Maynard pissed in his ornamental fish pond ). He was getting up
to answer a knock on the door from room service when he slipped over
mid-cackle ( I think it was the bit where Harmi’s picking out dead fish
and putting them in an empty Dorito’s packet). Still, we’ve got the
Kentish lard arse in reserve - if we can drag him away from the
eat-as-much-you-like buffet.
|
