Smoke Damage (smokedamage) wrote,
Smoke Damage
smokedamage

Today is my brothers’ birthday. I have no idea where he is, or, to be perfectly honest, who he is. Recy tells me that he must be fifty this year. But that’s not important right now.

Today the Apaches 5th grade won a match, which is a fairly momentous occasion of late. Chasing 117 set by Randwick, we crawled over the line with four overs to spare. We had a well disciplined innings in the field, apart from my bowling being demolished by some fat bastard, who already had his eye in.

We batted reasonably well even though it was a small target, against some decent bowling, including left armer Scott MacPhails inswing which he seems to have given up on and irrationally gone with outswing, which doesn’t work nearly so well. I came in batting at seven with the apaches needing 36 to win. As usual I counted down the runs, first batting with Alf and putting on a 21 run partnership, then with Chris and finally Andrew Vaughan.

Found it difficult to bat, possibly because we were on a disgraceful pitch at Alexandria Park, and perhaps things were a bit gloomy as far as the light went. Adding to that, my bowling had been smashed and I was sulking. The first few balls I could tell I wasn’t watching them, because I had no memory of the ball, and I’d missed them. After that I forced myself to watch them very closely, and so I did. I got my ten runs in ones and twos only. When Bond bounced me and struck me on the elbow, I was pissed off and sore. I walked to the off side and dropped my back and took a second, when MacPhail picked up my bat and handed it to me. Of course Mr Bond decided to bounce me again since the first one had been so successful, and pitched another short ball. I saw it coming and had half expected it, and as it hit a loose patch, the red mist descended, and I clubbed the ball into the long grass, roaring at whoever I was running with to run.

Thankfully I snapped out of it, because the beserker rage tends to offer me poor shot selection, and lowers my survivability significantly. I hit the winning runs, possibly the first time I have done so.

Back at the pub, it was quiet and I started chatting to Tash as usual. I asked her if she studied and she said no she didn’t have time to study since she was in at Churchills five days a week. With Pike’s “you just gotta keep asking” policy running through my head (though look where that got him), I decided to ask Tash out for a drink. Of course, she said that she didn’t drink, and ‘surprise surprise’, she has a boyfriend already. I lamented that such was always the case that the cute ones were always taken, but should she dump his useless arse to keep me in mind. But she did say that she was flattered, and thanked me for asking her. And then she blushed :)

Next round, I told her I had to find another way to make her blush next time. She’s cute when she blushes. Her pale features reddened.

It’s interesting that you don’t see people – well girls (who cares about guys?), blush very often. Everyone is so busy being ‘cool’ and streetwise and slightly cynical, that nothing really fazes people anymore. I think it would be a good idea to bring blushing back into fashion. Indeed that is my new quest. Of course, this will mean that I will have to be a damn sight cheekier and more game and forward than I usually am. Still, a task is hardly Herculean if it’s not something that makes you stretch yourself.
Tags: cricket
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