I wrote a post on the Bored Cricket Crazy Indians blog a while ago, before the India vs Australia series started. The gist of it was that I was happy that a lot the play in the tests and two of the three ODIs had been scheduled on weekends so an office-goer like me can catch a lot of it. Without being late for work all the time like I was during the India tour of South Africa or the India's tour of Sri Lanka earlier this year.
But that's not what this post is about it.
It's about the first ODI in Kochi, this past Sunday. It was rained out. It rained two days before the match and everyone was skeptical. The day before the match however saw good weather with the sun shining through the day as local boy Achettup of SoaL let us know on twitter. The day of the match came and I got up early in the morning, hoping my trump card of the day David Warner would run Shane Watson out before wasting a lot of balls for a poor score and that Australia would crash to defeat and the new look Indian team would send out a warning before the World Cup.
I've been cussin the nature lately. A lot. Because of the weather and stuff. It's been raining cats and dogs and bullocks and buffaloes the past week..so..
Today as i stepped out of the house, minding my own business, nature launched an attack on me. An attack fierce and dirty in it's nature.
I missed the first drop bomb by a hair's breadth. I was walking, passing under a tree about to shoulderjump-stun* Annoyer and as I wound up to bring, the bomb dropped. I felt the poopbomb disturb the hair on the fringe, just above my eyebrows as the load fell past, missing me by nano units of length. It was a fortunate save. I was too stunned to the shoulderjump-stun. Temporarily, that is, I collected myself soon enough and executed two lovely ones on each shoulder within a short interval despite carrying a umbrella.
Of course I did not recognize the attack for what it was a part of straightaway, it was not until the second more successful attack that i pieced together the jigsaw.
The second attack was moments after my second shoulderjump-stun of Annoyer, as I was rejoicing and happy in my mind, dreaming of shoulderjump-becoming an Olympic Sport in which I win medals by the ton for Strongbadia, the land of whose I will be the president. And I will be so skillful at it that I will be able to kill with a shoulderjump-stun, thereby eliminating peasant revolts without any help from my invincible, massive, brutal, ruthless, Spartan Army.
The second drop hit me, not fatally though but still it hit me. A bullet is not fatal if it grazes your shoulder but it damned well hurts. The second attempt was more accurate as it landed on my sleeve, a black sleeve visibly affected by the white marks left by the bomb as it slid down the sleeve and whatever didn't stick fell down. I did not despair. I cussed some more, silently, with poison in my heart, being on a busy street is not good when you want to cuss real loud.
So, nature might be smirking, with it's cheap dirty tricks it got me, but only for now. My t-shirt soaks in a solution of disinfectant, fabric softener, detergent, some really nice smelling shampoo (manly nice and not some lavender and floral bullshit nice) and hot water. If the stain remains, somebody gonna get hurt real bad.
I will let nature have it's moment. We'll see who's laughing when I burn precious fuels and pollute and buy stocks in high pollution industry companies and be non eco-friendly generally. Yeah, then we'll see. Ha, HaHa, HaHaHaHaHaHaHaHaHaHaHa!
* A Shoulderjump-stun involves zeroing in on a unsuspecting fool walking along you or in front of you, running as silently towards the fool from the back, then using the persons shoulder for support as you jump and push all your weight on the persons shoulder. It's fun and it hurts.
