| Dear Stephen Fleming, 10:06pm We need a miracle. Brendon's just gotten out. Oh help! - I would have started this letter when the game started, but nobody showed it. TV3 showed some crap American angstfest. Sky showed the rugby. It wasn�t even rugby I cared about, just the Crusaders whipping the spit outta the Chiefs. I�m going to be nocturnal today. Watch you lot, watch the Hurricanes, then go to bed, not to be roused until I go over to a friends and spend the night watching videos. 10:25pm Head up, Stephen; hold your head up. 10:51pm No, This CANNOT be! 11:10 Stephen, why does my soul feel so heavy? 11:53 I have a sudden desire to give you a hug. I think you need one. - it ain�t over till the fat lady sings. Right now she�s warming up. - Sister has just called again. She is very upset. Her theory on why you got out is �he played an ugly shot, Puppet, it was U-G-L-Y. When someone as beautiful as him plays a shot as ugly as that, bad things happen� is what she reckons. �Bad thing as in like the sinking of Atlantis?� I asked �Yeah, like that.� So now we know why you got out, and why Atlantis sunk. 1:24am Yeah! One down, nine to go 1:35am Keep it up Shane, we need Tendulkar. 1:40am AND WE GOT IM!!!!!!! Brilliant Jacob!!! 1:45am SHIT, BRENDON!!!!! Remember Stephen, it's hurting him too� 2:45am McMunchkins bowling? Well if words were wickets, Macca would open. - Hey!! An Umpire with a sense of humour!! - That obese female is clearing her throat. I'd give anything to stop her. 3:28am It�s just not working, is it Stephen? No matter what you try it just wont work. This is it. Our world cup is over. And I gotta tell you it�s been absolutely awesome. Highs, lows, and everything in between. There�s nothing better. I wrote that first letter to you because sister asked me to, and because I wanted you to know what it was like to watch cricket late at night. And after watching eight games I reckon I am the expert. When you guys are batting, especially when its you, Stephen, I get very nervous. Fingernail chewing, heart racing, nervousness, up until about the seventh over, when I become calm. When its late, like two or three am, everything takes on a sense of eeriness, like it�s all not real. Tinny cheers echoing off the walls and ceiling. A little frightening. As I said, it�s a lonely experience. The loneliness however has been somewhat abated by writing these letters. For that, I thank you. You may not be winging home with the cup, but to me it ain�t the most important thing, although it probably is for you. The most important thing, to me, is that I have something to be proud of. And you guys never looked like letting me down. Good Luck, Stephen Fleming Yours in Cricket, Puppet. (Letter finished 4:15am. Game over) |