A Day with the Army

Yesterday, I was at the cricket (much like today). But yesterday I was in Bay 7, and as great a seat as it was (and it was), it wasn't right in with the Barmy Army. For those of you who don't know, the Barmy Army follow England home and away, and sing songs and make merry supporting England. In their words, they are "the loyalest cricket supporters, that the world has ever seen". In the past I've been close to them, and have sung all of their songs when watching on TV (I know, sad). But I've never been right in there with them. Today I was.

Led by Jimmy Savile and Billy the Trumpet, we were belting out songs from about 10.45 (when Billy arrived) to 6 o'clock. And that's a lot of beers to be drunk. I won't type out all of the songs, mainly because I'll save the uninterested, but here's my favourite of the day. Basically this one is an absolute epic, and takes about 20 minutes to be sung. There are quite a few verses, but it's led by one guy who gets up on his chair and belts it out. It's to the tune of Sloop John B by the Beach Boys (the song Phil Brown sang on the pitch when he saved Hull from relegation) and it goes like this:

We came over from old Blighty
The Barmy Army and me
Around Brisbane town we did roam
6 quid for a pint, a grand for a flight
With Strauss our captain, we'll take the urn home

So hoist up the John B sail
See how the mainsail sails
Call for the captain ashore
Take the urn home
We'll take the urn home
We'll take the urn home
With Strauss our captain
We'll take the urn home

Ricky Ponting's a broken man
Without Warne he has no plan
He tries to carry the team all on his own
He's losing his hair
But we don't care
'Cos Strauss our captain will take the urn home

So hoist up the John B sail
See how the mainsail sails
Call for the captain ashore
Take the urn home
We'll take the urn home
We'll take the urn home
With Strauss our captain
We'll take the urn home

Graeme Swann is a caring guy
Rescues cats in his spare time
Now he's gonna tear you apart

And then it breaks into a couple of lines of "Swann, Swann will tear you apart, again"

So hoist up the John B sail
See how the mainsail sails
Call for the captain ashore
Take the urn home
We'll take the urn home
We'll take the urn home
With Strauss our captain
We'll take the urn home

Brad Haddin’s a simple man
He appeals whenever he can
He even appeals a catch down the leg side (even a wide)
He’s rubbish at his job
We think he’s a nob
With Strauss our captain
We’ll take the urn home

So after that finishes, everyone sits down and takes a breather, because that one lasts a while.

For those of you who aren't keeping up to date with the test (why not?) this has been called a "pink test". The McGrath foundation, which fights breast cancer, are fundraising at this test, so everyone's been encouraged to "think pink". The advertising boards are all pink, people are coming in in pink fancy dress, and they're selling pink bandanas. Not being bald, I haven't been wearing mine as a bandana, but as a neckerchief. It's a hot new look which will be sweeping the nation; the pink neckerchief.

Sydney is a warm place, and in summer (which it is over here), it can be rather sunny. So being sensible, I slapped on my factor 30 suncream, and wore my nice new England cricket hat to help cover up. Sadly, factor 30 evidently isn't enough for the harsh, unforgiving heat of downtown Sydney, and to coincide with the pink test, I have a lovely pink face. Seriously, it is very, very pink. And because I was wearing a neckerchief with a collared shirt (an England test shirt if you must know), I now have a really weird tan line that looks like a pendant around my neck. Tis a good look.

While I was at the cricket, I was tweeting (this happens regularly). My cricket twitter page (@shortmidwicket) was being filled, as always, with witty, insightful gems from the heart of the action. While the cricket is happening, back in London, BBC Sport do a live text on their website. Unbeknownst to me, the guy who writes it, Ben Dirs, follows me on Twitter, and was publishing some of my tweets. One of them, a jibe at ginger hero Paul Collingwood, backfired (Collingwood took a wicket just after I'd sort of had a pop at him), which led to pro-Collingwood fans sending me hurtful messages. Like this one.



OK, not that hurtful, but it did make me realise that I've become an internet celebrity. Fan mail in the post please.

I think that's enough rambling on for another day, so I'll end this post with a few pictures of what's been going on. Firstly you can see my pink face / neckerchief look that I was repping, and then there's a picture of my new shirt, which tells you what it's all about.

Until then! Will