Twenty20 Finals Day 2010 match reports
Apologies to all of you in the match report queue, but we’ve for once decided to publish a report at roughly the right time. If you’re worried that we’ve changed, we’d like to emphasise that this step has been taken purely because we can’t be arsed writing anything today.
Mel writes:
Following the result of the first semi-final, the four despondent Essex supporters sitting in front of us tried to think of ways in which they could pass the time for the rest of the day. Their team had been eliminated and their incessant heckling of the Hampshire supporters sitting around them had backfired in a rather spectacular fashion.
They therefore got stuck into the beers and came up with a cunning plan – ‘celebrity lookie-likies’. They awarded themselves one point each for a lookalike spot, but an extra point if they could get that person to wave back at them. This cheered them up immensely, and they threw themselves into the game with gusto.
“Frank Butcher!” cried one of them as a portly, balding and bespectacled gentleman walked back to his seat. “Rickayyy…get off my car lot!” he added as the gentleman looked up nervously. The beered-up celebrity spotter waved enthusiastically and was delighted to receive a tentative wave back. “Two points!” he screeched – almost spilling his beer in delight – before being upstaged by one of his companions, who had spotted a ruddy cheeked ginger lad a few rows below them.
“Prince Harry! Your Royal Highness!” came the cry – accompanied by an exaggerated bow – as the lad’s cheeks burned even brighter. He turned and waved (rather limply for a royal, I thought) but that was enough for a two pointer and the game was on.
During the Notts v Somerset semi-final, our stand was transformed into the pages of Hello! magazine with Kylie Minogue, George Clooney, Noel Edmonds, Billy Connolly and the bloke from the Go Compare adverts all spotted, although shouting ‘Cleo Laine! Give us a doo-be-doo-be-doo!” at Ryan Sidebottom failed to get the wave required for the extra point.
The irony was that the two actors who play the Weasley twins in the Harry Potter movies were sitting fewer than ten seats away from them and weren’t spotted once. Not sure if this is a reflection on the increasingly blurred eyesight of the Essex fans or an indication of the celebrity status of the Hogwarts pupils.
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We are still a bit mental about slow cookers
The Australian and I were recently flying back from Sicily on the same plane as the kid who played Malfoy. Even from our seats back in cattle class we could sense the teenage whiff of desperation to be recognised before entering the obscurity of adulthood. Sadly Sir Bob of Hoskins was quitely sitting in bald majesty on the other side of the aisle to him which eclipsed his thespy attention seeking antics.
I thought Stuart Broad was the kid who played Malfoy.
Have I missed something?
Unfortunately Broad has been replaced by a different actor for the last of the Potter films. His constant assumptions of a pay rise without officially appealing to the producers was proving wearing, and throwing the golden snitch into Daniel Radcliffe’s face in the queue for the canteen was the last straw.
SW – did you have the opportunity to question ‘Oskins about his previous history of capybara riding?
No. I wasn’t allowed through the curtain into the actors’ part of the plane.
Especially as I was sitting there going “it’s Smee! It’s Smee!”
Or it might have been because I was travelling with an Australian.
No 5-0 predictions allowed in our household I hasten to add.
I saw the bloke who played Harry Potter naked in a West End theatre once
Insert smut about his wand here…
We also went to see that play (assuming you saw him naked in a play, Smudge and not just ambling about disregarding society’s conventions during a night out).
We did not go specifically to see his balls. Both balls were quite some way away and we were thankful for that.
Yes, he was in the play. However as this is an irrelevant cricket blog, rather than ponder whether a play addressing 70’s concepts of psychoanalysis was appropriate for a modern theatre with no real reinterpretation, I elected for a cheap knob gag,