Eoin Morgan doesn't like trams

(Note, this blog contains an awful lot of name-dropping)

Today I was walking down Halifax Street (just around the corner from where I’m staying), when someone shouted really loudly “Will!” at me. Three girls were on the other side of the road, and I turned to look at them, wondering who they were and how they recognised me. After a long stare, where I racked my brains to figure out how anyone I’d know would be in Adelaide, they burst out laughing in fits of giggles. As I walked off, nonplussed, I realised that they’d been randomly shouting names at people hoping to get a response. They must have fluked getting my name right. This was confirmed as I heard them shout “Paul!” at someone walking behind me.

So now that story’s out of the way (which is a pity, as I was saving it for Parkinson), I can talk about what else I did today. In order to get my bearings (and work out how I was going to get there tomorrow), I got the bus to the Adelaide Oval, which is a pretty simple journey. While part of the reason for my reccy was to work out how to get there, I also went with my Ashes programme and pen, hoping to get a few England players autographs. While the perhaps over officious stewarding at the nets may have put some off, I was able to get the scribbles of all of the England Ashes squad who were still out in Australia. Well, all except Eoin Morgan, who jumped into the bus before I had a chance to thrust my book in his face with an expectant smile and an outstretched pen.

Part of my role as cricket blogger and journalist is to bring you some of the hottest gossip direct from the England camp. So here are some of my exchanges with the players, just so you can get a flavour of what it feels like to be part of an international cricket team. (And so I can show off)

(To Kevin Pietersen) Me: “Kev, are you playing tomorrow?” (he was injured for the game the other day)
KP: “I hope so”

(To Graeme Swann) Me: “Graeme, how’s your back?” (Swanny has a really bad back injury which is meaning he’s having to fly home and miss the rest of the series)
Swanny: “Dreadful”
Me: “I want to give you a hug, but it would probably just make it worse”
Swanny: “Yep”

(To Jonathan Trott) Me: “Trotty, can you sign this”
Trotty: “Sure, no problem”
Me: “Great thanks” (I walk off)
Trott: (running after me) “Hey, do you want me to sign it or not?”
Me: “You already have”
Trotty: “Oh, right”.


Hard hitting stuff, I’m sure you’ll agree. In amongst all of that excitement, I also managed to get the rest of the squad, as well as Andy Flower (the coach), who’s a lovely man. As all of the players had been signing their names on their individual player profile bit on the programme, as coach, Flower had no such page. So I got him to sign over the picture of England winning the 2009 Ashes. He remarked about what a great picture it was, and we shared a few words about cricket (rather than the “Can you sign this” “Sure” “Thanks” exchange that normally goes on). Great stuff.

After England packed up and went home, I decided to go back to the beach in Glenelg. Today, unlike yesterday, I packed swim shorts and a towel, so I could properly enjoy the beach experience. While on the bus there, I checked Twitter (as I often do – follow me at twitter.com/willatkins or twitter.com/shortmidwicket) where I saw that Steve Finn had tweeted that he was too on the way to Glenelg.

(This paragraph is going to be very name-droppy) Steve Finn’s a great bowler, and a nice guy too. I’ve been lucky enough to meet him on a number of occasions, at various functions in various countries. I’ve written before about how he seems to recognise my face, but not know where from. I’d even met him this morning, where I got him to sign my programme. I can only imagine that Finny sees me as somewhat of a stalker. As I had also said, I was already on my way to Glenelg when I read his tweet. When I’d set off, I had no idea that he was also going to be there. Glenelg’s a pretty small beach town. I’d almost certainly find an England cricketer if I was looking for one there. But as I said before, Finny probably sees me as a stalker. If he remembered that I’d met him that morning, and then conveniently appeared in the same small town as him, he’d probably be very freaked out. So while earlier I wanted to bump into England cricketers, now I wanted to avoid them. Even though I wasn’t deliberately being a stalker, from his perspective, it would seem as though I was being one.

Anyway, after all of this was going off, I set down my towel, went for a dip in the warm sea, then came back to read my book on the beach for a bit. After I felt that I’d been in the sun for long enough, I went back into town to go and have some fish and chips. I’d planned to go to this really cool resort thing where they had water slides, arcades, and crazy golf after my meal. Sitting down after ordering, I again checked Twitter. Finn had just posted pictures of him, Jonathan Trott, and Eoin Morgan playing crazy golf at the place where I was about to go. Now me turning up there wouldn’t appear stalkerish at all…

My fish and chips came, and I ate it. In this time, I decided that I would get the tram back and not bother with the crazy golf, as a) general stalky behaviour probably isn’t a great idea and b) I didn’t have enough money anyway. So as I finished off my last chip, and went to give the waitress a tip (a money tip, not some advice), guess who I saw wander past. It was only flipping Steve Finn! Glenelg town is basically a large square, with restaurants with tables around the outside. To get out of the square, you can go down various lanes. The restaurant I was eating at was next to one of the lanes, and to get out of the crazy golf resort you come down the lane, before coming back into the square. (Confusing?) Literally just as I’d finished, past me came Morgan, Finn and Trott. Remembering that I had everyone else’s autographs but Moggy’s, I called out to him (not as desperate as it sounds) and he was happy to complete my collection. While I flicked through my programme, and handed it to Eoin, I felt someone feeling my back. It was Jonathan Trott. I was wearing my new edition Barmy Army shirt, which says “Cook conquers Australia again”. I turned around in surprise, where Trott complemented me on my shirt saying “I haven’t seen that one before. It’s cool”. In one of my earlier blogs I wrote about how I made an absolute dick out of myself in front of Trott, and here he was complimenting my shirt. I said something cool, suave and funny, which made him laugh. This was going much better. I cooly thanked Morgan for the autograph, flicked a couple of coins into the tip jar, and walked across the square and into the waiting tram (while nodding at Finn).

That situation couldn’t have gone much better. I’d just looked cool in front of some England cricketers. So imagine my surprise when they followed me onto the tram, and asked me if it went back into the city. I told them it did, and made space around me for my new mates to sit down. On the 25 minute tram back into Adelaide we’d laugh, chat, and I’d be offered VIP access to the England dressing room for tomorrow’s game. Sadly, that bit didn’t happen. Finn and Trott seemed keen to “explore Adelaide” by getting the tram, but Morgan said that “I can’t be f*cked. Let’s just get a taxi”, and walked back off the tram. Finn and Trott tried to convince him otherwise, but Moggy’s insistence paid off, and they wandered over to the nearby taxi rank. I didn’t mind. I’d had my fun.

And it was on the way back from the tram stop that the girls shouted at me. See, that story did have a purpose. Anyway, before I end for another day, I’ve noticed that there hasn’t been many comments recently. So comment on this one, otherwise it’ll upset me.

TTFN for now! Will