Cricket? Hoo-farkin-ray. I know as much about Cricket as Fatty Walters knew about his 21st after we spiked his yardie with Pepe Lopez. That’s not a farkin lot, mate, I’ll tell ya. While you’re here, how come we have to put up with Ian Smith doing rugby? He might be built like a prop running a bakery but he knows as much about Rugby as my dog. Less, I reckon. Mate, tell you what, you guys can have Mex, that’s fair as.
Mate, I know one thing. The Black Caps are Farkin. Useless. They always fark it up. Back at school we’d gave the cricketers a hiding in the boat races. They’re worse than Poofballers, mate. Or Ali Williams. I’d only watch cricket if the 2004 Super 12 final was on the Rugby Channel, the dog was at the vet and the missus was home. I’d rather KNIT.
Is that a programme? Gis a look at the team… Jesus. Fleming? That guy is a farkin liability, I’ve NEVER seen him score ANY runs, and he still gets in the team, mate. Unbelievable. A bloody Aucklander in a Cantab’s body.
Taylor? McCullum? Never heard of them. Vettori? Sounds like a poofball player. Bloody looks like one too. What happened to Rod Latham? They should get him back. And Lee Germon. Mate.
Hang on. Kenya? Ireland? Farkin Bermuda? Jesus, look at the guts on that guy – six weeks chopping piss in the West Indies, it’s gunna be Farkin. Massive. Growing the game? Growing Bermudan bellies more like. Heh.
Anyway, the Black Caps need someone like Robbie Deans, mate. He’d be farkin ace, he’s won like 8 Super 12’s, and those bloody Aucklanders won’t let him have the ABs. That’s it – Deans and Marshall, get Justin in the team, we’d win this bloody World Cup. Not that I’D give a shit, mate. Are we done?
…and then Richie said to me “Get out of my way, you pillock”. Happiest day of my life, mate.