Regrouping between Ashes series

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Fans celebrate a bilateral one-day series obligation

Let’s get an early moan in about the five-match one-day series that’s taking place between England and Australia this summer. It’s not just the fact that it’s pointless and elbows aside the build-up to a Test series against South Africa. It also sabotages the experience of watching next year’s Ashes series as well.

The anticipation is half the joy of an Ashes series. Even though England and Australia play each other every other year, there’s still ample time for the teams to develop in between. When the touring side arrives, there’s a lot of excitement. They might have new players or older ones might have suddenly started excelling in Test cricket. There’s an element of mystery that adds to our experience as fans.

Having an England-Australia one-day series the year before the Ashes undermines this almost completely. It’s like tearing off a hunk of bread before it’s finished baking. It tastes entirely unsatisfying and the loaf will be all buggered up when it finally is ready to eat.

With the 2013-14 Ashes series in Australia following just a few months after the 2013 Ashes, we’d better prepare for a lot of shitty bread. However, we don’t particularly want to prepare by practising. This summer’s one-day series is unwelcome. Who invited it?


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. I preferred it when they came by boat. The anticipation would build from the moment the Newsreel showed them on the quayside at Sydney. Regular telegraphic dispatches from the BBC’s Man on Board would give us all a flavour of how the training was going –a daily lap of the Promenade Deck for the players; a rubber or two of bridge for the gentlemen. And of course there was the uncertainty as to whether or not they’d actually arrive, what with all this talk of war. Dreadful business.

  2. I remember reading about the 1993 Aussies who had just beaten West Indies before they came over here.

    May, Julian, Border, the Waughs, Warne, Healy, Boon. That is still the greatest Ashes series for me, if only for the bit where a dog came on the pitch and was tackled by big Merv Hughes.

    Simpler times.

  3. I’d like to set a Dough-berman on the fools who came up with this. Then they’d be brown bread.

    1. We don’t hate one-day internationals. We hate these specific one-day internationals.

  4. Are you telling me you’re going to take a piss? This is getting rather uncomfortable.

    1. … of the five one-day internationals against Australia.

      We’re going to one of the five one-day internationals against Australia.

      Although, that said, there is a degree of pressure in the bladder now that you mention it.

    2. I would like to represent the majority here and state my confusion upon reading this exchange.

  5. Hating a series and telling everyone about the reasons for hating it but then getting a ticket to go to one of the matches is more akin to taking the piss, rather than going for one.

    1. You’re not wrong. We’re a massive hypocrite.

      In our defence, going to one-day matches and caring about them are entirely different. Attending a one-day match is about having a vague reason to sit in the sun, eating food and drinking beer. We’re unlikely to watch any of the other four matches on TV.

    2. Do I contradict myself?
      Very well then I contradict myself,
      (I am large, I contain multitudes).

      Don’t say hypocrite – it sounds so harsh. Say instead that you celebrate the diversity inherent in every human being. That way, you can hypocrite your way from morning till night with an added sense of smug superiority to go with it.

      Bloody hypocrite!

    3. Bert, I am sorry to be the grammar Nazi here, but everyone knows the verbular form of hypocrite is hypocritite.

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