Psssst…. The Ashes blog from the Ginger Assassin

Good Day to you fellow Eagles,

As we near the halfway point of another Ashes series, I’ve been assigned to a cold English summer full of warm beer and barely edible food, while you‘ve been subject to an Ashes winter full of rain delays, occasional cricket, and having to put up with Damien Martyn, stumbling and stuttering through his “expert” comments, as he did his overrated international career. All this aside, the one burning question remains as yet unanswered – Are Australia finally feeling the warm embrace of mediocrity, or are England the luckiest sons of guns this side of Mexico to be leading the series 1-0?

So far this writer’s believes one of the important answers lies with one man, A. Flintoff.
My main gripe with the man they call Freddie is the complete overwhelming respect and fear the Aussies have for this Neanderthal. This a man who has a fitness regime planned out by Sticks ‘Pickles’ Fleming and Jimmy ‘Veary’ Vear.

Speaking of Sticksy, Kew McDonalds has recorded their annual winter profit loss off a Saturday morning, as the big fast bowler no longer stops in for his breakfast of champions on his way to cricket. In a related story, McDonalds Hawthorn are recording record high profits since Veary started attending Swinburne Uni.

But back to Freddie. How can we be afraid of a man who takes a wicket and refuses to embrace his team mates as he enters his ‘messiah’ pose mid pitch. Thankfully this all-round twat has called it quits on test cricket due to injury, apparently being a fat bastard is now deemed an injury. Arjuna Rangatunga captained his country for many years with the same life threatening injury, but it looks as if Freddie’s got bigger plans – word is he is opening his own Souvlaki Hut in Lancashire.

A bit closer home though, Australia’s number one problem can be explained in three simple words. NEW. SOUTH. WALES. We’ve got five of these clowns from this joke of a state ruining Australia’s Ashes defence, and a further three, carrying drinks ready to make things worse. Let’s take a quick look at how these blokes are letting their country down.

Phil Hughes – Clearly even Pete ‘Frenchy’ French would think this bloke is spending too much time on his personal appearance, which is all well and good when you’re making tons in 2nd division county cricket, but when you start batting like Danny Day, you’re gonna find yourself in trouble.

Simon Katich – The Kat Man has decided to take the Trev Keogh approach to batting, where by if you bat for long enough, at least two of the opposition bowlers will break down and you can finally start picking off some singles.

Michael Clarke – Not many people know this but if you look closely ‘Pup’, he has had a mirror attached to the back of his batting glove as to keep an eye out for possible skin imperfections. His other major problem, is that he and his fiancé have decided to share her brain and donate his to science for further research. An upcoming paper from the University of Sydney entitled, ‘When Narcissistic Idiots Become Famous: A Comparison of Declining Batting Averages and An Time Spent Advertising Men’s Beauty Products’ is expected to be released within weeks.

Brad Haddin – Old ‘Rubber Gloves’ has been batting well, but his keeping has been appalling. Expect a big lift from him in this third test, as coach Tim Neilson has threatened to fly Mick ‘Super Coach’ Dinneen over to the mother land for some expert lessons, including his world famous ‘make the regulation catch into a diving one hander’ special.

Nathan Hauritz – His off spin is about as threatening as Stuey Kemp and Dan Cimoli combined. Enough said.

This my friends is just a snippet of the problems facing Ricky Ponting’s men, and further in depth, unbiased analysis will be shared in the coming weeks, along with a discussion on the major issue facing ‘Swervin’ Mervyn Hughes and his selector cohorts – Will they have the guts to take a chance on Victoria’s own Andrew McDonald to finish the season in a blaze of glory – much like another famous ranga, Mick Lowry – and hold the urn aloft?

Keep Swingin’ lads

From England, Your Friend

The Ginger Assassin

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