A Birds Eye view

Batman and Robin are at the ground today. I saw them very early on in the day outside Adelaide main Post Office. Some Joker must have told them it was open on Saturdays. They were not receiving a lot of attention. I'd tried to join them. I'd got to a fancy dress shop that was next door to Vittorias the Italian restaurant where we ate last night. 'We' being the gorgeous lady and her mate and moi of course to make the nous. I got to the shop at ten when it was supposed to be open, even on a Saturday. I'd seen some pigtails which I thought might go down well. The day was due to start at 11, and as I've already said, the day was Saturday, and fancy dress on a Saturday is a feature over here. I'm writing this in retrospeck. I gave them ten minutes, then gave up. I didn't want to miss any of the cricket. Unlike B & R I didn't have access to a batmobile and the trams went in the opposite direction. Pietersen takes two fours off of ( I so like saying 'off of') McGrath. The third four brings up the 300. The sun seems to be taking its hat off more often than it puts it back on again. 304-3.
The gorgeous lady decided to buy a kangaroo kangaroo rather than a kangaroo koala. She'd already got possum slippers from New Zealand and a couple had already been in and bought all the penguins. The lady in the shop seemed a bit fed up. She asked whether the gorgeous lady wanted it put into a bin bag. 'A bin bag?' came the reply echoing the important and Earnest 'A handbag?' retort from Lady Bracknell. If Maggie T had been the gorgeous lady which I'm happy to say she wasn't, and in my diaries never could be, she could well have hit the disinterested shop lady with her handbag, crocodile or not, even though she wasn't one for snap decisions. It's one thing collecting kangaroos from the side of the road and putting them in dustbin bags. It's something very different to re-introduce them to the same bag at the point of sale. That's 5 bags in all. Unthinking children at some schools call the dinner ladies 'dinner bags', though I think Jamie Oliver has attended to that now. It's dinner ferrets now, as in 'The Great Escape' prison guards at Stalag Luft III. Nowadays they have to be ready for an ever changing role. Not only are they X-Raying packed lunch boxes, but they are soon to be monitoring pupil obesity, taking their carbon footprints and assessing and reporting on their energy profiles. There is a course being run at that school which is overlooked by the Gabba. The ground authorities follow the same tactics as the German guards as they have their suspicions that the kids are tunneling under the Gabba to get to the only shop in Brisbane that will sell sweets to children without informing the Moreton Island immigration squad. Michael Atherton is to be applauded as he has been acting as one of the penguins for the tunnelers.
347-3 but I've still not waved the flag much. The same reasons apply. The boy and his mates have moved down on to the sunny grassy knoll, and so I moved to be in front of the gorgeous lady and my flag was once again over her knees as it is colder up here sitting in the Clem Hill Stand. A bloke arrived to sit in the seat I'd Kommandeered. I moved up one. Like in the bar there were loads of empties. The absent occupants were probably lying with the boy and his mates on the grassy frontage increasing the number of empties of probably the worst lager in the world. The best lagers were probably banned to prevent the opposing armies clashing in an unharmonious fashion.
The bloke in the next seat turned out to be very chatty. He was a chartered accountant. I suppose it is the chartered part that makes the difference. He hadn't been to Brisbane but he was going to go to Perth. Now Perth didn't begin until December 14, and with the wicket playing as it is at Adelaide this one will go on to the fifth day, I asked him what he was going to do for the gap week. He said he was going to Sydney and then on to Tasmania to stay with an old girlfriend. The old devil! He'd said that they'd gone out together thirty years ago when he was down there on holiday. He said he was 73 and she 63. Now I mean, not thirty years ago. They never married . Each other or anybody else. The boy brought me up a lager. It was a fair trade exchange. I had given him a cheese roll and some fruit during 'drinks'. The bloke said that he had asked the question and she had turned him down. He thought that her mother hadn't approved. I told him that she would be probably long gone by now, and so he should 'go for it.' Not that it was any of my business, but I asked him about his business. He said that it runs itself anyway, with a young guy who keeps an eye on it and he was thinking of handing it over to him. He said he was going to go to find somewhere warmer. I told him that Britain was warming up and I asked him to come back the next day and I'd give him my blog card so he could let me know what happened. How romantic. He said he was not very good with the internet. 'There you are then', I said. 'Wind up your business. Nobody will notice.' He didn't return. Somebody might know him and let me know. I've hopefully advertised my blog in the next 'Cricketer' magazine. I'm not sure in what section. I didn't see a 'Lonely Hearts' section, but with a bit of luck he won't be reading that sort of bit anymore.
Just to annoy the Aussies, and to undermine what underpins the 'Pom's worst nightmare' advert I warmed my hands up on the lager before finishing it off. The gorgeous lady says that she likes to read medical thrillers, which is probably why she'd like to know the outcome with Cedric after the air ambulance dash from Moreton Island to Brisbane hospital. The temperature difference from where the boy is to where we are is significant. I've got my fleece zipped up and my legs crossed. I'm dying for a pee, butI'm not going to the loo until the sun goes in as I'm worried that if I leg it down to the facilities, I may not make them in time. Not that anyone on the grass would notice as they have spilled plenty of lager on it already with the wind being what it is. I watch McGrath bowl a maiden in the sun, and see 2 runs taken off of Warney. ( There's consistent.)
Things move on. I've swapped my fleece for the flag. Knees must. I'll need the flag for the 450, Collingwood's 200, the 300 partnership and Pietersen's 150. I did most of it. Collingwood was out for 206. The Aussies pumped everything wide down the off side and eventually Collingwood got fed up and got an edge. 408-4. Flintoff in. Warney almost gets Pietersen out caught. The seagulls are arriving in patches as the shadows lengthen. A magpieish bird (see picture) searches the canopy for juicy tit bits. On the way to the ground I saw one of his species attack a bloke on the head 'Hitchcockian The Birds' style, with a swooping glancing blow, the sort that got Melanie Daniels when she was in the boat. No offence to the seagulls who in this case were calmly avoiding the odd leg glance and the even odder McGrath. 'Odd' because he was the only one of the Aussies who looked disbelievingly at me when I offered them my blog card. Unless of course all the others were odd by saying 'Thanks mate.' The bloke was only two yards in front of me. Not McGrath. The one who was attacked by the bird! Relief? Bloody right. It was only today that the Euro powers that be confirmed I could say 'yards' without being arrested. At least now referees will not be so reluctant to make sure players are ten yards back at free kicks . I'm not so sure about Jamie's dinner ladies. Give them an inch and they'd take a bloody mile like the queues going in to the Gabba. The well behaved birds move off after Flintoff just avoids mid-on. Maybe the magpieish bird had told them about way that the bloke who he attacked had reacted. He pursued him with a level of vengeful ferocity that took the residents of Bodega Bay quite a time to rise to. P gets run out. You could see he was out from here. You didn't need a replay, but with the birds not reacting they probably needed to increase the tension somehow, as the Aussie fans were visibly losing interest. Flintoff had a word with Jones. It was his second warning. He'd been almost Warned first ball. Jones goes for 1. Martyn and Warne were responsible. Panesar comes out with a drink for Flintoff. Is he asking or being told? Giles arrives. He got a few runs the other day. We could do with a few quick runs. Some Barmy Army wannabie tries to get a Mexican wave going. It only gets a few yards on the grass below and a few inches up here. It wasn't a lack of willingness. The muscles and sinews were frozen to the enchiladas.
F & G stutter through the 500. We declare at 551-6. The Mexican Pete goes South a bit and managed to get a six man conga going. The last man who became generally abusive later moons but doesn't attract anything else but flies. You can see the bird in the canopy considering the options for a few moments, but having seen the guy literally on the piss for most of the afternoon, the thought of what solid food had accompanied it obviously put it off. Even the bird knows you are what you eat mate, and will probably be telling its aggressive pal to stay off the nuts. Flintoff the captain is out practising with the bowlers. He was the main one in Brisbane so lets hope some of his whatever it is rubs off on the others. It may well have done but he left plenty for himself. Bye bye Langer. See you in the hotel. Well done Freddie. You got out probably the best Langer in the world. 28-1 will do for me. What's on the menu for me tonight? Starry Gazy Pie? Cornish Pastie? Washed down with Lizard Ale maybe or is it washed up? Victor Who Knows.