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now with the ball firmly lodged between face and grill, Strauss is free to run for as many as his little legs can carry him.
Like when you hit the ball into the neighbours tree and your little brother can’t reach it so you run about 50 times until he cries and goes indoors to play something else and you’ve won! YESSSSSSS! But you’re alone and lonely now so you throw things into the tree to dislodge the ball so that you can start the game again but something you throw, like a gnome, misses the tree and goes through the roof of the greenhouse and you get that terrible sick feeling because you know that your Dad’s going to go all red again and your Mum will probably cry.
Don’t run Strauss! Please…don’t run.
I don’t want to worry anybody, but in that photograph Strauss is on the fielding side.
He has simply misunderstood how to dress and what to do when your side is fielding.
But he’s a bright chap, folks, and I’m convinced he’ll get the hang of this game in time for the Ashes.