ERROL PARKER | Editor-at-large | Contact

Laughing at Joe Root’s decision to bat first, watching Warner get settled and new hope from the West Marcus Harris get caught behind, it was a shaky start but a local cricket fan said he was feeling confident.

As Harris walked back to the sheds, the rain rolled in a play was suspended.

Hamish Dearman, who’d already waited about an hour for play to start, sighed and slummed back on the couch.

A short time later, Mr Sandman pulled up in the driveway of his rapidly-depreciating Hotondo monstrosity in Betoota Heights and snuck into Hamish’s living room to sprinkle stardust in his eyes.

And with that, the 28-year-old sub editor here at The Advocate was off to dreamland.

It wasn’t until about 6 when he woke to sunlight, still on the couch in his work clothes. His neck feeling as if someone tried to decapitate him with a a stiff length of polypipe.

His brain throbbed. For a moment, he wasn’t sure what had happened. His mouth was dry and he could smell it. Christ, he thought.

Hamish told our reporter this morning as he came into work 45 minutes late and looking like shit that while he feels like been operated on without annesthetic, it must pale in comparison to how the cricket team mus feel.

“I’m glad I wasn’t awake to see that absolute clinic Jofra [Archer] put on last night,” he said.

“Fuck he can bowl, hey? Looking at the pitch, I though the Sheffield softboi Joe Root was mad having a bowl first. But fuck me!”

“Reminds me of a young chainsaw ripping Binga. Dunno what we’re doing to do about him, to be honest. Might have to put Cummins in around the wicket to him, keep it short and hopefully hit him in the ribs or something. Like when Kevin Peterson tried to charge Pigeon in that one-dayer that time. Champagne cricket.”

Our reporter nodded and reminded him that he doesn’t work at the ABC, so he better get to his desk before the boss tells him to pack it up.

More to come.


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