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Jackson Bird, Chadd Sayers and the rest of your ilk, your match-winning bags and valuable economy rates are worthless to us. Can you please peddle your impressive stats elsewhere and leave Darren Lehmann alone.
I’m giving you this friendly reminder as there’s been some talk around the traps since you fellas were fairly overlooked to bolster Australia’s severely reduced pace attack for Hobart.
Like your stock ball, this is an honest delivery with a touch of zip, but it’s for a good cause – the national cause.
>> A WEST INDIES XI PICKED ON THE BRILLIANCE OF THEIR NAMES
>> WEST INDIES UPSET? NOT BLOODY LIKELY
So shut up and hear me out.
Firstly, this is nothing personal. We’ve seen you roll them over, and your game is on the selectors’ radar. At least that’s what we’ve garnered from Rod Marsh’s cryptic comments which we deciphered as either a confirmation of you being ‘in the mix’, or him having a mild stroke.
In fact, someone’s just handed us your numbers, and they’re actually very bloody impressive. So impressive that you’re numerically ahead of all your state-based rivals. Nearly so impressive one would be forgiven for describing them as ‘compelling’ and ‘undeniable’.
Geez, on further inspection, it looks like you’ve both gone out and taken critical wickets that have resulted in you heavily influencing some positive outcomes for your teams! I’ve got to fit this in a coaching manual somewhere. It’s some real rare honours board shit.
But while your evidence has really charmed us, regrettably, it’s not the cricket we’re about here in Australia. While taking wickets and keeping the runs down is pretty grouse, it’s got nothing on shattering the speed gun and tickling up blokey commentators into gushing about ‘good heat’.
You see, while you are steady, intelligent and rat-cunning, you’re totally un-sexy. You tend to overthink things, and the last thing we need is someone to come in and stuff things up by thinking too much.
We know to avoid your cerebral type. You’re probably the sorts of blokes who overthink James Bond films, professing to enjoy them for the glamorous espionage and geopolitics, when in reality, all they’re good for is sex and gadgets.
Do you get what I’m saying? We need hyper-intensified nasties who don’t think too much, not these intelligent man’s cricketers who like to deeply ponder and read books and stuff. Just look at where thinking took a rare unit like Stuart MacGill and all the booze-ups he was subsequently not invited to.
Boys, what I’m saying is that we need a vapour trail singing off the back of your outswinger and we need it delivered with a volley of offensive language. We need you to frighten batsmen into soiling themselves first, and then into taking their wicket second. I can’t dumb it down anymore.
We need you souped-up and barely street legal like a V8 or a stolen Skyline. Sorry guys, with Josh Hazlewood and Peter Siddle, we’re at full carrying capacity for Kia Ceratos.
Really, the best advice I can give you for possibly jagging a complimentary 13th man call-up is to take up batting or wicketkeeping or even a massage therapy course. Because while ever Boof has a tendency for liking it hard and fast, he’ll keep swiping left on your profile.
Actually, let’s just save the hassle and call stumps on this relationship now. I can’t remember the last time there was talk around the scene of you ‘badging’ anyone, plus we’ve got some other guys out the back who haven’t bowled for eight months who are cherry ripe.
Honest servants, valiant competitors, yada yada yada. You’re all of those platitudes. But really, if you don’t leave now you’re taking up a spot for a mouthy tearaway who can really ‘ramp it up’ and brown some creams, and that’s unconstitutional.
So please, be on your way before it starts to look like you’re hoarding a domestic spot for personal and team gain.
But besides that, no hard feelings and all the best for the future! And don’t forget; work your backside off in the nets and incur a stress fracture or two searching for that extra yard of pace, and then we might talk. Just look at Pat Cummins, it’s worked beautifully for him.
Again, don’t take this as a personal attack, it’s just personally you’re too slow. For now, just leave your resume at the door. And don’t call us, we’ll call you. We’ll keep an eye on those – what do you call them again? – “wickets” and “economy rates” and stuff.
Keep your chin up, guys. You’re still firmly in all of our Rodneyisms; in the mix, in our thoughts and, best of all, on the pecking order.
Somewhere between Brad Williams and Wayne Holdsworth.