It’s the Ashes (again) in Australia. So heres to weeks of disrupted sleep whilst I watch eleven of my compatriots retain (hopefully) professional sports smallest trophy. The first test match is in Brisbane and play starts (for day two) at midnight UK time tonight.
For me it’s actually quite nice. Nicer than when the test matches are on in England. Nowhere to go, no-one who’s gonna call. The wind and rain going on outside whilst I can at least see the sunshine in full HD. I only wish I didn’t have to go to work the next day. Cricket is a sport that many people don’t understand the appeal of, I get that. The naming conventions for the field placings don’t help. Leg slips and Silly Mid-offs are too much for some. Again maybe that is part of the appeal for me.
Test matches last five days (and you thought baseball was a long game) but during that time the upper hand in the game can change several times. A marathon rather than a sprint but with tactical elements a plenty, and especially in the case of the Ashes a great deal of human emotion and passion.
Stuart Broad England fast bowler, has been made a panto villain in the Aussie press for “refusing to walk”. Which basically means, he was out in a previous match, but the umpire didn’t give it so he stayed put. A bit like a footballer doing a bad foul then staying on the pitch because the Ref didn’t give him a red card. There have been front pages encouraging all Aussies to blank Broad wherever he goes. Broad fought back in the best way possible by taking 5 of the 8 Australian wickets to fall yesterday.
When you are up watching this kind of theatre. It is important you stay refreshed, and whilst I did succumb to a wee shot of Jack, by 2am I was ready for bed. Which brings me to the title of this ramble. There is nothing, no drink on earth, I would rather have by my side in the early hours than tea. It warms the mind and soul. So if you like me are watching the cricket or maybe some other more fitting event to your personal preference. Askew the coffee, say good-bye to gin. Go and make a brew. You won’t regret it.
A thought that often crosses my mind. You see I write this from my bed, it’s a double and very comfy. It’s seen less action than a whole convent of nuns. (Sisters I’m open to offers… I’ll save you… I kinda look like Jesus) My bed is warm and even though my mouth is dry and I need to pee I have the compulsion to stay here until the very last possible second. It’s 11am, Saturday by the way so it’s not like I’m stupid late for work.
Workdays are even worse. I have 3 alarms with at least two hours where I know I can hit snooze. I still leave it to the last possible second. I have responsibilities I’m a adult, I should know better. I should be up preparing breakfast, doing yoga or as one of my colleagues does actually checking work emails. Three words… Get A Life.
I’m lazy but it’s not my fault. I blame snooze.
Which mental case invented that button? It’s more tempting to push than any button that says “Don’t Push” in fact I think it’s the one thing that unites the people of the world. From Nun.. (Call me yeah) to Whore.. From politician to pimp (sorry they are supposed to be contrasting things aren’t they) everyone has pressed snooze. Yes I know there are people without alarm clocks. But I also know they would find the snooze too difficult to leave alone was it present in their homes.
Don’t press it..
It’s the “drug pusher” of buttons. There on your bedside saying “go on just a few more minutes, you’ve earned it, you are a special guy” in your hazy lazy state you believe ol snooze and lay there. There are some people who are full of pep in the morning. I want to kill them all!! I believe these people are recovering snooze addicts. They pressed so much it made their noses bleed. (Because they ran into a door whilst rushing to work, late cos of too much snooze) These folks have to be full of the joys of morning because they live in fear that snooze will return for them.
Well at nearly midday guilt now fills me. I must escape the warm snooze enabled clutches of my slumber pit. Guilt my arse… I just want a cup of tea before I go to football. Maybe a few more minutes…