My mind went blank as I finally relented to watch England v West Indies. Call it Windies v Windies and get over the farce. My viewing started at the cricketing depths - Morton. And the poms looked so damn smug, you'd think they were allowed to play the IPL, and paid for it too. Broad, Mascarenhas, even Collingwood, they looked like they were in on a filthy secret about one of their mates, that smug they were. But where was KP, I could not spot him, but then he has no spots. And Morton, oh, he defended, damn how he defended in the power play, like his meagre strike rate could not plummet any further. And then as if to remind me of one ugly yet effective innings from the past, he picked one and ran it past the fence. And then he ran himself out. And I thanked the heavens it was over. Morton was done, and so was I.
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