September 11, 2010
If I am going to do it I had better do it soon.
On the pitch a game of cricket that not even the players are interested in meanders through the afternoon. I look around at the boozy crowd and… the TV cameras.
I am going to streak. If I make it past the stewards I should get to the middle. But when should I take of my pants?
Stop procrastinating, lets do it! I head for the fence.
A huge roar goes up around the ground. I see a naked man sprinting across the outfield, genitals flapping.
February 13, 2010
The protagonists of the duel resumed their places for the next bout. Ponting took guard at the crease, Flintoff carried the red leather ball back to his mark and Derrick Smalls sat forward on his couch.
Derrick visualised the next ball, a shorter faster delivery. He foresaw the mistimed defensive stroke nicking the ball to the waiting hands at slip. Eyes closed in concentration he focussed his telepathic powers at the batsman, compelling the Australian captain into error.
Accelerating Flintoff charged in and fired another brutal ball down the pitch. Ponting strode forward, driving cleanly through the covers for four.
[First post Mon Jul 13, 2009]