Oi. Shane here. I've had a decent amount of time on my hands lately, what with my wonky calf. And while I'm getting buff for my big return -- watch out, Lankans! -- you can't spend all your time in the nets. Or in the weight room. The mental training is important, too. Least that's what Punter says. Me, I'd rather be lifting. Can't stay fit unless I add 30% more mass. But you gotta keep Skip happy.
So I've been relaxing. Drinking Red Stripe and reading the blogs in the baths at the Cricket Australia 3 Mobile/Victoria Bitter ICC World Cup Training Facility. Men sauna in corporate sauna, I guess. That's what Punter always says. Not sure waht it means. But whatever. Anyway, Punter reco'ed that I read the blogs while I took the treatment. Said they keep you angry. They just confuse me, though.
For example. These knobs keep harping on me just because I've had a string of bad luck. Folks don't seem to care that I'm out of the XI. But all these bloggers can't say enough about that pretty boy Boer AB De Villiers. Guy doesn't even have a proper name. Like Shane. Or Mike. Or Steve. Aussie names, mate. Strong. Relentless. I mean, I work my abs as much as my lats or quads. But I don't need to name myself after them. That's crass.
Anyway, this AB is the darling of the bloggers. "Achingly talented." Whatever. It's funny. What these bloggers don't get is that the Saffers would have beat us a couple weeks ago thanks to Baby AB if it weren't fo me. Yeah, me. Because AB was having the best innings of the bloody World Cup before I threw him out. From 40 meters. Long leg. One stump to hit from long leg. And I did it. If I didn't do it, AB wasn't getting out. No way. Would've been not out for 250. Those bloggers are right. The guy is all that. AB is the best young player out there. 'Cept me. Cause I got him. Me. Shane.
Right. So don't forget it. You need me, Oz.
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