So it’s back to England I go, more boring cricket, so the Bish has 50 bucks riding on it just so he can do his noodle over Basil Sauce. I hop a plane to Heathrow and sit next to this sprauncy looking bloke it a jacket and tie. “Hey mate, names O’Way, Sandy O’Way who won the cricket?” “Well old chap, names Boycott, mean anything to you? Seeing you’re a simple man of the cloth it was a no result” Boycott, isn’t that what you do when you won’t buy something at the supermarket like cage eggs, “Meaningless to me Pom, boring game played by bores”
The flight was long and strangely quiet. Me mate Boycott kept looking the other way and the in-flight movie was Flight of the Living Dead, very comforting. This gave me a chance to reflect on a conversation I had with the Bish that still disturbs me. One night after dinner the Bish offers me a glass of port in the sitting room. He gets out his pipe and stuffs some stuff in it, smelt like a skunk, takes a couple of deep puffs and holds it in. “Ahhh” he exclaims as he exhales “That’s better”. He proffers the pipe in my direction “No thanks your Worship, don’t smoke”. Anyway the Bish sits down and starts talking “You know Sandy, I’ll let you in on a little secret, there’s no such creature as God” Oh for fuck sake, a Bishop who doesn’t believe in God. “No God your Worship?” “That’s right, God is an astronaut, named Gordon, Gordon O’Donnell. He’s an astrophysicist that lives in another dimension. He’s studying astrophysics at uni and he and some class mates built this large box and made it a vacuum. The box is black on the inside and the class injected a large tube of static energy in the middle, mainly hydrogen and then fired an electric impulse at the tube. A big bang happened and thus the universe as we know it was created. Gordon and his classmates have been studying it ever since.” Christ almighty, this bloke’s a raving lunatic. “Gordon comes to Earth for the beer, he said he likes the spit roast on Joon and the women on Altus 5, these are other planets in his sector that he is doing his thesis on” Beer, roast and women, starting to sound like my kinda guy. “Gordon says just play cricket and you will be accepted into the Kingdom of Heaven” Pigs Arms! Bloody cricket, takes 5 days and still no one wins.
I meet the Australian captain, Ricky Punting, at the hotel where all the players are staying. “So Ricky, the Bish wants to know what’s up?” “Nothing Father” he replies “just need a bit of fine tuning” “Hey Ricky” I ask “Why do they call you Punter?” “Bet a journo told you that one. Look Father, there’s this bookie called John” [Stop, cut, Sandy here, Hung, Hung, HUNG! I don’t like the direction this story is taking [HOO here, Sorry Sandy, dozed off, look mate it’s like this, I’m the writer and you’re the character, so bad luck, anyway it’s a tough gig being a priest] Yeah, right thanks Hung, Ricky’s about to tell me he’s as bent as a two bob watch and all you can say is it’s tough gig being a priest, you try it mate]
“So Ricky, this bookie called John?” I prompt, “Sorry Father I have no idea what you are talking about but just remember, cricket’s a funny game” Funny alright, played in bloody heaven apparently.