G’day Poms from lovely Tassie by far the best place I’ve visited so far.
First of all apologies to the Aussie Cat Stevens I went to see in Melbourne last week. By far the best show in town that week. England didn’t show up again and were simply moonshadows of the team that won the Ashes. Moonshadows, moonshadows.
So flew down to Tassie for a few days off the beer I thought but it hasn’t worked out like that. Met Si the groundsman from Wormesley (Getty private cricket club) and Bagpuss from the Barmy Army and we’ve been knocking about for the week.
Monday we hired a car and went down to Port Arthur, the oldest and most dreadful convict colony in Australia. On arrival each tourist visitor is handed a playing card and this represents your own personal “convict” from the old official records whose progress in the colony you may then trace.
My convict was the 9 of clubs otherwise known as Patrick Murphy aged 17 from Liverpool.
Young Patrick was deported for attacking his grandmother with a knife and stealing her rent money.
Some things never change eh?
You may or may not be pleased to know that he died soon after arrival in circumstances which I can hardly bring myself to imagine in a timber swamp after numerous floggings, so he at least got “justice”.
On the way to Port Arthur we bumped into Messrs Gower and Holding in the middle of nowhere who were very friendly indeed and accommodating with photos etc.
On arrival back in Hobart we were joined for a drink by Bumble, who recounted a very amusing tale of the most abusive cricket e-mail ever received by SKY TV. Apparently Bumble spent days tracing this and it turned out to be from an MP!!
Can’t name any names here you understand but Mr IB from Keighley if you are reading this don’t buy the Sun for the next month or so!
Sounds like name droppers delight this I know but we also bumped into the full Aussie squad plus Ian Healy (very chatty) Ian Chappell (not very chatty) and Glenn McGrath whose hand I shook – alright I expect shock horror on this bit but I was very drunk.
Dumbo was also present and he had trouble getting out of the door of the ball and chain where we were eating – his ears got stuck in the doorframe.
So finally to the cricket and we beat the NZ team at Bellerive – lovely ground right by the sea-just about deserved it although we almost managed to blow even this. Flintoff was caught off a no ball and if he had been given out I’m sure we would have lost. Nevertheless a win at last and suitable celebration afterwards.
I departed these at about 12-30pm after quaffing too much wine and singing in the restaurant, although Si, Bagpuss et al went to a late pub where by sheer unhappy coincidence the England team were drinking.
Jon Lewis deserves special mention here for behaving like a complete nob.
Apparently,legless himself, he accused one English fan of not being a “proper cricket supporter” because he couldn’t remember his bowling figures from the afternoon.
Like you would in a ODI. They were nothing to write home about anyway as I recall.
Everyone has now gone to Brisbane / Adelaide now hence the chance to give my liver a rest and send the report. Been for a cracking curry at a place endorsed by the Indian cricket team, who ate there during their last stay in Tassie every night!
Well if it’s good enough for Sachin….
Regards Al – dreading tomorrow’s whupping at the Gabba – at least I won’t be there unlike poor Mike Atherton!!