Kent v New Zealand match report

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Lemon Bella writes, or rather ‘wrote’. Sorry for the delay. The disorganisation that led to this match report’s delayed appearance is totally, totally uncharacteristic. Totally.

TOTALLY… Anyway, Lemon Bella writes:

Indian Skimmer and I went to the Kent v New Zealand match.

On the first day there was quite a lot of actual cricket and we watched it. Although, when Justin Kemp walked past in a pair of shorts we watched that for a while. We hope the ECB let Justin Kemp stay. Even if they say he can’t, we hope Kent still employ him to occasionally walk past us in a pair of shorts.

At breakfast on the second day our B&B man told us that Michael Vaughan’s time was up. We know better than to dismiss his statements now, so we’re expecting Michael Vaughan to be ousted any time soon.

It rained so hard on our walk in to Canterbury that we turned around and went to the zoo instead of the cricket. We saw a lot of bored animals lying around and scratching themselves. This is exactly what we would have seen at the cricket, so we felt justified in our decision.

In the afternoon there was some sun, so we drove to the cricket ground. They wanted to charge us £10 for parking at the ground despite there being only half a day left. This made us ANGRY so we parked at the bottom of the hill (£2.70) and walked up instead. We told a man about this and he was ANGRY about it too. We don’t know who he is, but he always seems to know what’s going on so we think he may be employed by KCCC in some capacity. We hope it’s something to do with car park pricing policies.

On the final day, we stopped for coffee on the way to the ground. There were New Zealand coaching staff in Café Nero and one of them knocked our coat on the floor. We waited around to see if Brendon McCullum would appear and order a low fat hazelnut latté with extra foam, but he didn’t.

Play was called off once ducks settled on the outfield, so we drove home and watched Stargate: Ark of Truth on DVD and ate chocolate brownies.

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18 comments

  1. I can see that Justin walking past in a pair of shorts left as much an impression on you as it did on me. He was on the balcony the other day with just a towel covering his lower half. I’d pay £100 car parking fee to see that again!!

  2. Think there’s quite a queue to see Justin Kemp’s shorts. I’m more in the niche market – Key in shorts doing a little dance. Magic

  3. Charlton,

    Ark of truth is excellent. It’s just like an episode, but longer, and it has the most spectacular special effect.

  4. If they could guarantee me Justin Kemp just wearing a towel, there would be no complaint about car parking prices.

    Be careful what you wish for Ceci.

  5. I”ve already seen the vid Bella – Pink Bobby groovin’ away. Would you like the link?

  6. All of my common sense and taste is screaming “no”, but there’s still a part of me that wants to say yes….

  7. I don’t get the Justin Kemp thing; I know I might have unconventional tastes but I’d prefer Bobby please.

    Lemon Bella, no mention of your cat? He will be bitterly disappointed.

  8. Justin Kemp is all large and south african. I find those hard to resist.

    Strauss is demanding much higher fees for his appearances now….. we’re ina pay dispute.

  9. Speak to Allen Stanford, Lemon. He’s got a line in cat-showing. The winner takes home $20m, so if Strauss has ideas about fleeing to India, you can use this as a bartering tool.

    Or is he indifferent to Stanford?

  10. he’s totally indifferent to Stanford. I’d have a picture of it if i hadn’t broken my camera.

  11. If Stanford were a cat he’d have been washing himself all the way through that meeting with the ECB.

  12. Yes, and I bet he would be one of those cats who, when you stroke them, IMMEDIATELY wash the bit that you’ve just touched.

  13. Exactly. And he’d be the type to sit there and stare at you until you come over to stroke them and then move *just* out of your reach.

  14. And the one time he jumped on your bed in the middle of the night it would be because he was soaking wet.

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