Time to pad up, kiddies
We've finally plugged into digital television in preparation for THE ASHES starting tonight. (Other Melbourne peeps: is 7's digital signal always a pile of arse, or is our building just special? Not that we care, because at the moment life is all about the Tour and the Ashes, and they're both on SBS. SUCK IT, HOME OF THE OLYMPICS.)
So, my beloved Binga is injured (STOP THAT) but hey, this means Stuey Clark can step up and represent like we know he can, and of course, there's always Mitchey. From the above article: "In South Africa Mitchell Johnson turned from a sometimes meek and wayward operator into the most frightening bowler in the game." BOO. YAH. Our little boy's all grown up, and he swings like a motherfucker. Hussey's possibly back on form (*crosses everything*) so I want to see serious runs, boy, or my other boyfriend will mock my devotion to you.
What I really want, though? Some fucking awesome cricket. Let's go!
So, my beloved Binga is injured (STOP THAT) but hey, this means Stuey Clark can step up and represent like we know he can, and of course, there's always Mitchey. From the above article: "In South Africa Mitchell Johnson turned from a sometimes meek and wayward operator into the most frightening bowler in the game." BOO. YAH. Our little boy's all grown up, and he swings like a motherfucker. Hussey's possibly back on form (*crosses everything*) so I want to see serious runs, boy, or my other boyfriend will mock my devotion to you.
What I really want, though? Some fucking awesome cricket. Let's go!