Jarrod Kimber's Blog, page 64

Kindle finally becomes relevant with Australian Autopsy's help

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I know you are thinking that Kindle is stupid.

I once thought the same.

Now I don't as I have the chance to get money from it from selling Australian Autopsy to those people who like to feel the warmth of a machine while they read.

Australian Autopsy is even better in kindle form than in book form because when you are reading it on the tram no one can look over and go, why is that freakoid (yes, that's what they'd say about you) reading a book with an autopsy on the front.

Now you can read it on the sly, it will feel like my words are being fed to you in a mischievous and dirty way. Like I'm whispering naughty things into your dream as the person reads the latest Clancy Patterson Byrne best seller.

It will just be our little secret, and if you're good, I might even cuddle you at the end.

So Kindle me, hard.

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Salman Butt's smackdown

[image error]It's ok if cricket is fixed, because people still like wrestling says slammin' Salman Butt.

He has compared cricket to a "sport" where the most interesting thing is the religious signs in the background.

That is a bigger crime than match fixing shortly.

But on the plus side, if you ever see Salman Butt and his collection of wanky watches making his way down the street, feel free to hit him over the head with a chair.

Or talk to him earnestly about whether a short leg for Jonathan Trott is needed or not.

He seems to love to chat about that.

Then hit him with a chair.

Salman Butt's smackdown

[image error]It's ok if cricket is fixed, because people still like wrestling says slammin' Salman Butt.

He has compared cricket to a "sport" where the most interesting thing is the religious signs in the background.

That is a bigger crime than match fixing shortly.

But on the plus side, if you ever see Salman Butt and his collection of wanky watches making his way down the street, feel free to hit him over the head with a chair.

Or talk to him earnestly about whether a short leg for Jonathan Trott is needed or not.

He seems to love to chat about that.

Then hit him with a chair.

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Tony Greig's true calling

Tony Greig just happened.

It never made much sense to anyone, but one day he just entered the global cricket consciousness, and like an enormous loud and often wrong tick, he never went away.

For years Tony Greig just went on being Tony Greig.

I never got it, and I don't think anyone else did.

Then today I saw the film Snowtown.

And suddenly Tony Greig's meaning became clear to me.

While a brother rapes his brother in another sunny scene from Snowtown, we hear Tony Greig selling a limited print of David Boon on the TV in the background.

The whole event happens moment after what looked like Javagal Srinath coming in to bowl. Which may or may not have triggered the incestous rape scene that is so well narrated by Tony Greig.

Sometimes we have to sit through hours and hours and hours and years of someone who we all detest just for that one moment of brilliant pop culture usage, and that certainly seems the case for Tony Greig and his cameo in Snowtown.

Now he makes sense to me, he was here for that one short scene.

Once you've seen the film, which is a grim tale about bogan killers in Adelaide (a similarly grim film about the Redbacks shield form over the last few years is in production "booftown"), you'll never see, or hear, Greig the same way again.

And isn't that what art is about, making you think of incestous male on male rape when you hear a commentator you don't like?

Tony Greig's true calling

Tony Greig just happened.

It never made much sense to anyone, but one day he just entered the global cricket consciousness, and like an enormous loud and often wrong tick, he never went away.

For years Tony Greig just went on being Tony Greig.

I never got it, and I don't think anyone else did.

Then today I saw the film Snowtown.

And suddenly Tony Greig's meaning became clear to me.

While a brother rapes his brother in another sunny scene from Snowtown, we hear Tony Greig selling a limited print of David Boon on the TV in the background.

The whole event happens moment after what looked like Javagal Srinath coming in to bowl. Which may or may not have triggered the incestous rape scene that is so well narrated by Tony Greig.

Sometimes we have to sit through hours and hours and hours and years of someone who we all detest just for that one moment of brilliant pop culture usage, and that certainly seems the case for Tony Greig and his cameo in Snowtown.

Now he makes sense to me, he was here for that one short scene.

Once you've seen the film, which is a grim tale about bogan killers in Adelaide (a similarly grim film about the Redbacks shield form over the last few years is in production "booftown"), you'll never see, or hear, Greig the same way again.

And isn't that what art is about, making you think of incestous male on male rape when you hear a commentator you don't like?

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Mazhar Majeed's bizarre Helen Mirren pegging claims

I don't really understand news.

Once Majeed was taken rectally in a toilet on the Concorde by Helen Mirren, who is a pegging enthusiast.

Yesterday when Mazhar Majeed's fantasy life was being broadcast I thought it was funny. and then I ate a sandwich.

Majeed was the inspiration for the Tyler Durden part in fight club.

It didn't occur to me that anyone mentioned in the Majeed's tapes would honestly care enough to reply. I mean, if it smells, tastes and applies to your skin like shit, it probably is.

Majeed was the first person to use the term diss.

I was wrong.

Majeed has proof that Shahid Afridi is a Vampire scientologist and will be selling a photo of Afridi from the 1800s as proof.

Today Nathan Bracken's people, James Sutherland and Paul Marsh from the players' union all came forward to robustly rebuke the claims that Majeed gave about Australians. Others will come forward shortly I am sure.

Jean Claude Van Damme's film bloodsport was based on Majeed's life.

Now, having heard a great deal of these tapes, I can say that other than a few pedophiles mid grooming, no one was spinning more bullshit than Majeed at that time.

Majeed has proved that diet pepsi is made of cancer.

We've all been on the pull or at an important job interview and gone out of our way to pile on so much bullshit to get what we want. I've sold six laptops in a single sale and have been to Chopper Reid's place.

Majeed is Imran Farhat.

That's why I know that anything Majeed said in this situation was bullshit. Everyone knows that, right?

Majeed played a Pakistani ambassador in the first series of West Wing.

It certainly seemed a lot of people on twitter thought the same thing, they laughed, mocked and enjoyed the string of amazing nonsense that came from Majeed's best of mix tape.

Majeed means outstanding penis girth.

But this is where I'm an idiot, because in this world no matter how utterly bizarre the claims are (what does knowing Brad Pitt very well mean, other than a carnal friendship) people have to rush to refute them. Claims can not simply sit out there unrefuted.

This piece was written by Majeed.

It was so inevitable that if I had any brains I would have written this piece yesterday.

Majeed did write this yesterday.

People say the darnedest things right after other people say bullshit publicly. And any match fixing claims, no matter how obviously nonsense need a stern press conference, angrily written release or threat of farcical lawsuit to prove just how nonsense they are.

Majeed actually likes piña coladas and getting caught in the rain.

I am now eagerly awaiting Helen Mirren's reply to my Majeed's pegging claims.

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I saw Sachin Tendulkar blink

[image error]It's not an easy decision to come point out a flaw of the greatest human being to ever where light blue buckle cricket pads.

Sure, I could have taken in to the grave, so that only Sachin and I knew the real truth.

Some may see it as the honourable thing to do.

Why sully Sachin's name just so you can sell your book?

But truth is also important, and what are we if we hide the truth to make our heroes look less human.

If you prick Sachin, does he not bleed and tell you to stop pricking him?

Sachin is human, which is a good trait, and because of this and my desire to sell copies of my book let me tell you about the time I saw Sachin blink.

It was a warm day in December, there was a warm northerly blowing and my girlfriend of the time had decided to come to Victoria Vs India with me.

Before we got to the ground she was complaining, it was never going to be a good day.

Earlier in the match I'd seen the ego of Hodge annoy Ganguly by batting for days.

Now I was just there to see Sachin bat.

He didn't.

Sehwag came and went, as did the man playing cricket just so he has something to write about, at 3 Dravid should have come in but instead it was some random dude that no one wants to remember, and so Dravid didn't come in till 4. Shortly after the game was abandoned to ensure that no one committed suicide from boredom.

Sachin was due to come in next.

the crowd of 300 Indian students and my girlfriend and I were ripped off.

During the day, to avoid any sort of conversation with my girlfriend, I spent most of my time looking at Sachin in the dugout.

To be honest, he didn't do much, he had the look of a man who wished he had a good book but instead was being chatted to by Ganguly.

At one stage Cameron White started warming up, earlier in that match he had taken 4/59 in a blistering attack on everything Indian.

It was perhaps the greatest spell of legspin in that match.

White tugged up his shirt sleeves with a pinching manoeuvre and then whirled his large shoulders around in masculine artistry as Sachin watched on intently.

With the shoulders a blur of frenzied excitement, Sachin blinked ever so slightly.

It was a short blink even by blinking standards, and I doubt anyone else even saw it, but I did.

As his eyes shut I assume Sachin saw into the future to see what a force Cameron White would be and went about finding a way to destroy him.

It may have been Sachin's only ever blink, but he used it wisely.

Years later Sachin would be dismissed by White in a test match, he allowed this to throw people off the trail.

No one has seen him blink since that day.

When you or I blink, it shows our weakness because we are providing moisture to the eye by irrigation using tears and a lubricant the eyes secrete.

When Sachin blinks, it shows he is human and superhuman at the same time.

There is no account of Sachin's eyes or Cameron White's shoulders in my latest book.

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Is Troy Cooley M. Yass?

Troy Cooley has been named as the interim head coach of Australia while Greg Chappell gets his resume in order.

It's hard to warm to this news, it's like finding out that a band who's first album was kinda ok is making a come back by playing their greatest hits in your kitchen.

In my self acclaimed new book 'Australian Autopsy' I posed the question of whether Mitchell Johnson actually exists, or whether he is just a construct of Troy Cooley.

It made sense at the time. Now I realise that I might have got this all wrong.

It's more possible that Troy Cooley is the myth.

A administracratic fudge that has never been correctly audited.

This is where we need Alex Gibney and a documentary crew, because, what does anyone know about him?

They say he played first class cricket for Tasmania, but no one watches first class cricket in Tasmania, only 0 of shidl fans know they are one of the six sides.

I mean if you are going to invent a first class cricketer, Derbyshire, Otago, Leeward Islands and Tasmania are surely safest options.

Even his numbers for Tasmania don't add up.  33 first class matches with a bowling average of 61 and a batting average of 9.  Surely no one would continue to pick someone with those figures.  What is more likely, the selectors kept picking him, or when putting in a fake record some administracrat put in wrong numbers?

Then his List A are  4 matches with a bowling average of 21. Come 0n, this isn't even pretending to be real.

They say he coached the England bowlers in the 2005 Ashes. There are photos of a man with the team, but if no one ever saw Troy Cooley before that, how would they know if it was Troy Cooley.  There was occasionally a picture of a tall man taken during that time.

That series led to him be lauded as the best bowling coach on earth. But the ECB didn't offer him an extension of his contract, or any contract from what I can tell, and he just left.

I mean if this really was the bowling supercoach, why would he just be allowed to leave o easily? It doesn't add up.

Then "Cooley" turns up in Australia. The man in the photo pays a passing resemblance to the other Cooley, but if I took 12 random men off the street and put Cooley in the middle of them, would anyone know which one was Cooley?

No.

So photos and first class record don't prove that Cooley is a real being.

What else can? Surely not Mitchell Johnson's record or Kabbir Ali's career.

There is no way to prove that Cooley is real or not.

But then, how did Cooley come into the cricket world you lazily whine.

Easy. You can imagine some Tasmanian official thinking, "We need to make cut backs. We don't really need a bowling coach, do we? I can't leave the box blank, because then people will question it. Troy Cooley, that sounds real."

Suddenly Troy Cooley is real. And everyone time a cricket photographer has a unidentified tall man in their frame, they either cut him out or say it's Troy Cooley.

If it is possible that Troy Cooley was an average bowler turned handy bowling coach, coached one amazing attack, confused some bowlers, struggled with a mediocre attack and then became a head national coach on a temporary basis, isn't it also possible that Troy Cooley is not a real man but just a name that people keep writing in empty boxes.

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Champions and their drinks

The word champion is interesting.

Cricket had a champions trophy, but no one seemed to care at all about that.

Now it has a champions league, and not that many people seem to care about that either.

Perhaps it's just a problem with the word champion. Or a lack of apostrophe when using the word champions.

In today's champions league match, NSWales took on Cape.

NSWales played their cherubesque keeper Daniel Smith, who is not only a now more occasional player for NSWales, but is also a playing coach for the Sydney Thunder later this year.

He doesn't average more than 27 in any format of cricket, yet he never stops smiling.

He's that sort really of dude, people seem to like him, he's better than shit, but not great, and obviously knows enough about cricket to play at first class level despite a less than athletic physique.

Today he was sent in as the number 3 for NSWales.

It was hot.

While batting he was brought out a drink.

The person who brought out that drink was the Don Bradman of tailenders, Philip Joel Hughes.

A week ago Hughes was making 120ish against Sri Lanka in a test.

Now, he brings drinks to an assistant coach of a domestic t20 in a league of champions without apostrophes.

If that doesn't make this league a champion's league, I just don't know what does.

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The Tiger

A cricketer.

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