Monday, August 24, 2009

History Repeating Itself

So anyway dear blog reader, yesterday yer actual keith Telly Topping his very self sat watched virtually all of the final day of the Ashes series right down to the wire. And, it was ruddy marvellous in my sight, so it was. Yet somehow yer actual Keith Telly Topping still conspired to see not a single one of the first eight Australian wickets to go down. He did, at least, have a good reason for missing the first two - he was on his way back from the railway station after seeing Mama Telly Topping off on her holiday. Yer actual keith Telly Topping then watched the action for the rest of the morning but, after lunch he flicked over briefly to BBC1 to catch the end of the Spanish Grand Prix and, when he turned back over to the cricket, it was two hundred and twenty something for four and he'd missed the two run-outs.

Then, yer actual Keith Telly Topping - just for the briefest of brief seconds - changed channel to Sky Sports 2 to see how the football was going and arrived back at the cricket just in time to see Marcus North stomping off towards the dressing room like a bear with a sore arse after getting stumped by Matty Prior. Then there was that lengthy stand between Fussy Hussey and Haddin Havin' a Badd'un and, for twenty minutes or so, Keith Telly Topping decided to pop over to BBC2 to watch the (very exciting) four by four hundred metres relay in the World Athletics Championship. Having celebrated Britain's unexpected silver medel in that, wouldn't you know it, when he came back, two more wickets had gone. And then, to cap it all, having had a delightful late lunch his very self, he went off to the lavvy to have a, rather necessary if very satisfying, dump and was startled to come back just as the England were celebrating Siddle getting diddled by Harmy and Fred.

Luckily, yer actual Keith Telly Topping did catch the last two wickets go down live, as it were. Otherwise, he might've believed the whole thing never even happened.

So, it wasn't quite the mad-bonkers over-the-top euphoria of 2005 (how could it be? That was a one-in-a-lifetime thing for the entire country, it seemed, dear blog reader) but, yer actual Keith Telly Topping thoroughly enjoyed the test and, indeed, the series (England getting thrashed at Headingley notwithstanding). And yer actual Keith Telly Topping must say, also, that the delicious irony of watching Sour Faced, Fat-Lipped Mister Punter getting his sorry ass run out so comprehensively by Lord Freddie Flinthazen was, quite possibly, the single funniest thing yer actual Keith Telly Topping his very self has ever seen in all his life. Bar none. Well, at least since Gary Pratt done Punter up like a kipper, Tommy Nutters, four years ago in the same fashion, anyway. Seriously. yer actual Keith Telly Topping laughed and he laughed and he laughed until he stopped. And then he laughed some more.

Couldn't possibly happen to a nicer chap.

No comments: