We should all show pity for Ben Stokes – after all he is just a cricketer
Nobody wants to be told when they are 16 that they will spend the rest of their lives standing in the middle of a field while someone throws a leather ball at a man who only has a wooden bat to defend himself
ALL week, people have been queuing up to give England cricketist Ben Stokes a right old kicking.
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Even when it was suggested that he’d been trying to defend a couple of gay people from homophobic abuse, everyone dipped their head in a bucket of sarcasm juice and said: “Yeah, right.”
This is a man, they say, who has form. In 2011 he was arrested and cautioned for obstructing the police.
Two years later he was sent home from a tour of Australia for drinking. He once racked up four speeding offences in a single month. So plainly, he’s a wrong ’un. And a ginger to boot.
Yes, but he has a lot of sympathy from me because can you imagine: You’re at school hoping that you’ll grow up one day to be a footballer or an athlete or a racing driver, when you are taken on one side by the sports teacher, who says: “You know what, son, you’re a gifted cricketer.”
Nobody wants to hear that.
Nobody wants to be told when they are 16 that they will spend the rest of their lives standing in the middle of a field while someone throws a leather ball at a man who only has a wooden bat to defend himself.
Most of the time there are only ever half a dozen spectators in the stands and, usually, they’re asleep.
And no one is watching on television, either. Unless they’re in a hotel room and they can’t watch porn because it’ll show up on the bill.
You’re at school hoping you’ll grow up to be a footballer or a racing driver, when you are taken on one side by the sports teacher, who says: “You know what, son, you’re a gifted cricketer.” Nobody wants to hear that.
The prospect of all this destroys a man’s soul. And that’s why so many cricketists turn to drugs, drink and crime. To escape the monotony of their everyday lives.
Ian Botham tried to become a footballer and Freddie Flintoff became so depressed he tried to be a boxer.
You don’t find that in other sports. Gary Lineker never said: “I’m going to take up snooker” and Lewis Hamilton has not (yet) said: “I fancy trying my hand at ice skating.”
One former England player, Steve James, wrote in The Times this week how drink is a huge part of the game. And I’m not surprised. It’s not something you’d want to do sober.
I do not know what will happen to Ben Stokes, but I hope the cricket selectors ban him from the game for life, so he can find happiness and contentment by doing something a damn sight more rewarding and enjoyable.
Chiselling the fat from London’s sewers, perhaps.
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Moaner Lisas out for Hef
IT emerged this week that Leonardo Da Vinci may have once drawn the Mona Lisa topless.
Needless to say, everyone has been rushing around since then shrieking with joy. Which is odd, because when Hugh Hefner died everyone described him as a dreadful pornographer who exploited women by making them pose topless.
Er . . .
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BROKE A NAIL?
WHEN I heard that Manchester City striker, Sergio Aguero, had broken a rib in a car crash, I must admit that, as a Chelsea fan, I was not as upset as I should have been.
But then I saw photographs of the mildly dented car in which he’d been traveling.
And I’m sorry, but I think that when they said “rib”, they meant “finger nail”.
Don't leave your CK pants at the bar
RESEARCHERS have compiled a list of branded clothing that’s most likely to be stolen.
They say that Adidas sweatshirts and Barbour jackets are most likely to be nicked when owners leave them unattended in nightclubs and bars.
They also say Ray-Ban sunglasses are a target too, and I guess that none of this is very surprising.
However, I was alarmed to notice that at number five on the most nicked list was “Calvin Klein underwear”.
Really? Chaps leave their shreddies unattended when they pop to the bar for the next round? It seems unlikely.
Or is it what they tell their wives when they go home commando- style?
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HEALTH and safety enthusiasts have announced that mobile phone use was a factor in 35 deaths on the road last year.
This is good news, because when you add that figure to the number of people who – we are told – died as a result of drink, tiredness, distraction, poor eyesight, faulty tyres, mechanical failure, confusing road signs and weather, you arrive at a grand total of 1,792.
And as that is the exact number of people killed on Britain’s roads in 2016, we have to conclude that the number of people killed by excess speed was exactly none. So we can get rid of the speed cameras then . . .
Wood fired up
HAVING decided to put 40,000 people out of work and force partygoers to walk home in the rain in the middle of the night, London’s mayor is now dreaming up yet more ways of making everyone’s life more miserable.
And among other measures being considered is to ban all diesel-powered machinery on building sites.
Which means that without generators, diggers or dump trucks, men will be forced to dig the foundations for the next skyscraper by hand.
He’s also looking at whether diesel-powered boats should be allowed to operate on the Thames. Well yes Sadiq, because sailing boats couldn’t get under any of the bridges. You halfwit.
He’s looking at all these measures because London’s air pollution exceeds European limits.
That may be true. But in case he hasn’t heard, we shall be leaving Europe soon. So we can set limits of our own. Limits that are a bit more realistic.
LIKE all rational people, I feel very sad when I see fully grown men and women cycling to work.
It’s unfair that life has been so unkind that these people are reduced to commuting on their children’s toys.
But I have no such sympathy for those who choose to ride around on a Brompton folding bicycle, because they are not children’s toys.
They cost up to £1,700, and for that you could have a very nice Ford Fiesta.
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The reason people ride them, and fold them up, and take them into their offices, is because they are trying to make a point. And the point is: “I am mad.”
James May has a Brompton, and that says it all.
So I was delighted to hear this week that the bikes are being recalled for safety reasons.
The British maker was at pains to point out that the faulty part was made in Germany.
Yup. And by a company, which I couldn’t help noticing, is called FAG.
A PATHOLOGIST investigating animal cruelty said this week that sex with animals was not uncommon.
“I have seen dogs, livestock and poultry in sexual abuse cases,” he said.
I reckon he’s been watching the wrong sort of porn, because in real life, how on earth is it possible to tell when a cow has been touched inappropriately? Or a chicken for that matter.
I feel a Channel 5 documentary coming on.