Kusal Mendis doesn’t think they’re gonna need a bigger boat

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Once upon a time, a colleague of ours, who we’ll call Gill (because that’s her name), asked another colleague, who we’ll call Stefan (because that’s his name), for help with her computer.

We can’t remember the specific issue. It was just one of those generic computer problems that crops up from time to time in offices throughout the world. Stefan was best-qualified to offer some sort of solution and he was basically sitting next to her.

“Stefan, I can’t…” began Gill – finishing that sentence with a few pertinent details.

Stefan ignored her.

After a few seconds of persevering alone, Gill tried again. “Stefan, how do I…?”

Again, Stefan ignored her.

There were maybe ten people in the room and we all watched in silence as Gill repeatedly pleaded with Stefan for help. Every single time, he blanked her. Gill’s frustration built, as did the tension in the room.

Gill was somewhat combustible anyway, but this was especially annoying. After a few minutes of being blatantly ignored, she exploded. She stood and shrieked at him about what an arsehole he was and then fled from the room.

After a moment, another girl followed her. When she returned, she revealed that Gill was in the toilets crying.

We all sat in silence, stony-faced.

After a few minutes of this, Stefan looked up from his computer, glanced to his right, and then asked: “Where’s Gill?”

It is quite extraordinary to maintain that level of obliviousness to what is going on around you, but Sri Lanka’s Kusal Mendis would appear to be a man cut from similar cloth.

The first Test between Sri Lanka and Australia saw 44 individual innings and of those, just two exceeded 50. This was not an easy pitch to bat on. This was a hard pitch to bat on; a treacherous pitch even. If a batsman had any regard whatsoever for what was happening around him, he would have been spooked. He would have been justifiably spooked.

In that context, Steven Smith’s 55 was a tour de force.

Kusal Mendis made 176.

One can only conclude that Kusal Mendis simply didn’t notice the danger.

All in all, it wasn’t a great match for Australia, but they did at least set a world record: 25.4 overs without a single run scored.

Well batted, chaps.


Mike Gatting wasn't receiving the King Cricket email when he dropped that ludicrously easy chance against India in 1993.


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  1. 25 overs no runs? That’s my kind of batting! (By which I mean my standard of batting. Dogged, yes; tough to get out, yes (after a few balls’ grace); attacking shots or timing, none.)

  2. Probably my ignorance, KC, by I don’t see the connection between the headline and the piece.

    Within the piece itself, I don’t suppose you are inferring that SOK had a hissy after bowling the second ball of his 17th over, but it is a lovely thought. Especially as O’Keefe returned later in stoic, heroic failure mode; one scoring shot in 98 balls.

    Test cricket; can’t beat it.

    1. Headline: obliviousness to danger. Maybe should have revisited it after writing the piece though, being as there wasn’t a single Jaws reference in the end.

      Next bit, presuming you mean implying and presuming SOK is Steve O’Keefe, but don’t really know what you mean. The short bit about Australia is only really a postscript.

      1. O’Keefe (referred to by his team mates and commentators quite consistently as SOK) stopped bowling after 16.2 overs of the second innings. Allegedly injured, but might have been a hissy-fit. How would we know?

        Thanks for the Jaws explanation. Just when I thought it was safe to log on to King Cricket again…

  3. LOL

    Or in the case of Australia’s innings,


    Ok so it should be dots but who cares. One saving grace for those plucky antipodeans is that at least this time it won’t fit in a tweet.

    Ps. Fuck you, Steve Smith.

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