Jrod writes:
Like most people at 4pm on a Wednesday, I was watching the ICL. The Bangladeshi World ICL team were playing the Indian World ICL team. Battle of the titans.
Mostly I was watching to see how many times the commentators forgot to mention their correct titles and just called them India or Bangladesh. Twice early on the Indian ICL XI were called India, but eventually I had to turn the sound down so my secretary could type out my dictation.
Watching cricket with no sound is quite an odd experience, although with Dean Jones commentating, I am sure I was not the only one to do so.
With the sound down I could hear the dull hum of London life: school girls giggling, lorries humming along, old men mumbling, hooded teens stabbing each other and a young boy yelling out a naughty word.
Five minutes later I heard someone walking on the staircase, in the communal area. I thought they sure were walking slowly. Why would I focus on that though, with all this ICL entertainment right in front of me?
Suddenly there was a figure at the lounge room door. Naturally I thought it was the house cleaner who has been hired so I can watch more ICL, so I said: ‘came a day early did you?’
As you may be aware, it starts to get dark around 4pm in England and so I can be forgiven for seeing a tall black young boy and confusing him with my short Polish house cleaner. Obviously.
The young lad was startled by my question. He didn’t stand around long enough to answer it. Instead he bolted and without thought, or either of the two cricket bats on hand, I went after him.
Luckily he was a bit too fast for me – he was more of a point fielder and I am a slipper – so he was out the window with my laptop before I really got into the hallway.
The whole event was a pleasing one. My secretary never stopped typing out my dictation; I met some (about eight) lovely police officers over the next few days and the detective was a big cricket fan, so we talked about cricket while she forgot key details of the crime; and I got a new laptop.
Although I never did find out who won that match. Perhaps I should ask the young chap if he knows the result when I am in court with him.
Hmm, quite a few references to the cricket here.
“Mostly I was watching to see how many times the commentators forgot to mention their correct titles and just called them India or Bangladesh.”
Completely agree! Tony Greig was the worst…especially with the Pakistan….sorry…Lahore Badshahs
I never mentioned the cricket, i mentioned the commentary.
Does this match report comprise your formal witness evidence then?
SA, my favourite bit was when he got really angry, they were also Pakistan then.
Mims, probably has more details than my real one.
jrod!!!!! hahaha
So true! At times I thought he was gonna put an expletive in the middle of “those Pakistanis”
Too much cricket – but a good crime story
Isn’t that a bit 70s sitcom to say you couldn’t see the black man properly because it was a bit dark?
No, cause i didn’t say i couldn’t see him, i said i confused him with a polish woman because it was dark.
My white guilt about being robbed by a black person is here though.
http://www.anotheraussieinlondon.com/2008/11/white-guilt-boogie.html