Tag Archives: Elvis

The Ashes On Ice – Cricket Doesn’t Get Hotter™

So the “leadership group” (I use that term advisedly) of the Australian cricket team has sanctioned premeditated ball-tampering… cheating.

An early prototype of The Ashes On Ice™

Cricket Australia needs an urgent fix. Something to restore the faith of the Australian and global cricket fraternity.

Fear not. I’ve been rummaging around the team kit bag and next to the stained and battered protector, I discovered something that may just save Australian cricket: The Ashes On Ice.

This concept is an absolute jaffa* as Shane Warne says during British TV cricket commentary when he’s pretending to be English. *A jaffa in Australia has a different, orange / chocolatey meaning.

The Ashes On Ice. Just let that sink in.

Imagine the crowd chanting “LILLEE LILLEE” as Dennis Lillee circa 1975 slides to the top of his mark… turns, and comes steaming in from the Nursery End. Gold necklace bouncing…
moustache bristling… ice shredding… that look of unbridled fire towards W.G. Grace who is stoically anticipating a bouncer aimed at his throat. Oh, I didn’t mention the animatronics?

Think about it. Imagine seeing the long-departed Our Don Bradman, Fiery Fred Trueman,
Keith Miller, Richie Benaud and other legends of the game get off the ice and promptly back on it?

I already have boffins working in the shed on the technology where Jeff Thomson would try and knock over Sir Leonard Hutton, Beefy Botham at his prime sledging Victor Trumper who promptly hits him into his own stand at the SCG. Ian Chappell dancing down the pitch to Alec Bedser.
Tony Greig sticking his keys into the ice. The possibilities are endless.

Why ice? Why not.

We can recreate the infamous Bodyline series with those arch-villains Larwood, Jardine and Voce taking on the courageous Aussies.

It doesn’t have to stop at Australia v the old enemy. Imagine the unbeatable West Indies,
with the great Viv Richards just chilling out on the ice. Viv never wore a helmet when he batted,
he wouldn’t need ice skates.

The greats of India, South Africa, Pakistan and New Zealand… all battling it out.
Don’t tell me you wouldn’t want to relive the infamous underarm bowling incident… on ice?
Then there are the streakers…

“Yes, hello… is that Cricket Australia…?”

©Steve Williams 2018

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America — land of the free, home of the loud

Dear people of America…

I love your country. It has given us so much: wardrobe malfunctions, the Ferris Wheel, the pop-up toaster, chocolate chip cookies, Elvis, windscreen wipers and cheese-in-a-can.

But one question, why are you so f’ing loud when you travel?

By “loud”, I’m not talking about the blinding-white sandshoes, mismatched migraine-inducing clothes, stupid hats and mandatory “fanny pack”.

No, I’m talking about loud as in volume.

Is it really necessary for entirely unsuspecting, innocent people in a hotel lobby / restaurant / bus / train / plane / cafe / whatever / wherever to hear absolutely EVERY SINGLE WORD OF YOUR CONVERSATION? Really?

I realise it’s a well-worn, overused, hackneyed, clichéd stereotype, but seriously, you people are living it — loud and unfortunately very clear.

After my eardrums were recently on the receiving end of an aural attack, it finally dawned on me what that American term “DEFCON” means: “You’re deaf, so this conversation has to be at full volume.”

In closing, I hope the star spangled banner continues to wave o’er the land of the free and the home of the brave et al, but can you just keep it down a bit?


PS, If you’re travelling to a country where English isn’t the first language, speaking at restaurant staff at the top of your voice won’t instantly make them fluent in “your language”.

PPS, The “h” in the word “herb” doesn’t need to be silent.

PPPS, The word “fanny” has a somewhat different meaning in other parts of the world.

©Steve Williams 2013

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