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The Heath Davis Diaries (or the Memoirs of a failed Development League Player)

HeathDavisSpeed

Cricket Web: All-Time Legend
As serialised in the Daily Sod

25th August 2008

Woke up this morning and spent at least 10 minutes trying to scratch my left leg crotch without much success.

Its been an up and down couple of days. I made the decision just before the game against Pakistan. It felt like such a relief to get the decision out of the way. The lift of pressure was almost immediate and it was so enjoyable to actually get on with playing the game and having fun rather than having the stress of turning up to nets every day just to see the prolific Dan Smith smash another ball back past me for four. I think that's why I actually bowled half decent against the tourists. It was also quite enjoyable playing with young boys the Chairman's XI. There's some guys in there who're gonna light up the Dev League for seasons to come.

Since I made the decision, and released the news I've had mixed reactions from my former collegues. My favourite comment was from Patto who said, "A big decision for one so ghey." I thought it was a nice touch of his to spell out the last word for me. Seeing as I only learnt the alphabet up to the letter 's', I thought he was talking about the food 'ghee' for at least a few minutes. Once he'd explained it to me, we both had a good laugh.

Back to today, and, well I spent a lot of time wandering around the disparate streets of CWLand, struggling for something to do. When I say wandering, it was more of a crawl. Once I find the bastard who stole my prosthetic legs, I'll beat the ****er with one of them to within an inch of his (or hers, lets not get ***ist already) life.

Anyhoo, still no luck and the search goes on.

So, I wandered around for a while finding little to pique my interest. Sadly, my inability to read past the letter 's' meant that I got quite badly lost and to my immense surprise, I somehow ended up in a brothel. One which a similar orienteering malfunction had led me to be arrested in only months before. Fortunately, they do not discriminate there if you're deficient in the leg department and an enjoyable time was had.

After that excitement, I hailed a cab and fortunately he took me back to my home boxes. I checked the answer phone and I had a message. I dialled the answer phone only to hear the dreaded name 'Voltman'. Amongst the bizarre message that followed, I could only pick out the words 'Rentboy' and 'over and over again' before it was cut off. This mysterious message certainly raised my curiosity and I looked forward to gaining further understanding of what this could mean.

A bottle of PVA glue (I'd stopped in at B and Q on the way home) was then cracked open and I conked out for the night. I woke up in a hospital bed with an orderly pouring acetone up my nostril before display a large caked piece of white gloop - solid PVA glue in front of my eyes. I'd say never again, but I've been there before - haven't we all. So, I've booked myself some time at a clinic. We'll see what comes of that.

Still, I have to prepare for the next game for Pickford. I still want to enjoy the game, and nothing makes you smile more than knocking over a set of stumps.
 

HeathDavisSpeed

Cricket Web: All-Time Legend
26th August

Woke up early and felt like a small child. Hang on a second, that 'like' should have been in there. Start again.

26th August

Woke up early and felt like a small child. Very excited about today's club game for Pickford. I'm hoping to pick up a few wickets today. I'm not feeling particularly sore after my run in with the glue yesterday and confidence is high.

Its a home game today, and after the last match I drew the short straw and have to provide some lunches for today's game. Checked the pantry (note to readers: the pantry is the damp patch in the bottom right inside corner of the box which is either due to the storm drains overflowing last week or some other vagrant's urine. Either way, the smell is quite overpowering) and there was nothing to be seen.

Decided to make some sandwiches. Cardboard is a pretty good bread substitute and Wilson is usually pretty pleased with the grit filling that I usually provide in my lunches. Grit supply looking dangerously low after some rock pigeons were filling their gizzards with my stash a couple of days back. I'll hunt one of those ****ers down for my dinner later, I reckon.

Hitch-hiked out to the ground and missed the toss. Fielded and took a couple of early wickets, but went away largely unfulfilled from the experience. Felt a little bit hollow. Had to spend the rest of the afternoon at the GUM clinic. Damn itchy at the moment, and that talcum powder I half-inched from the changing rooms seems to be making things worse. Ah well. A largely unsatisfying day. Hoping for big things tomorrow.
 

HeathDavisSpeed

Cricket Web: All-Time Legend
27th August

Woke up this morning and still terribly itchy. Found a rat, or maybe a vole nibbling at my nuts which didn't help my frame of mind. Its funny, but I'm sure when I checked the pantry yesterday I didn't have any food in, so I was slightly surprised. Maybe I have an unknown benefactor. I had a call from my editor who was complaining about the amount of bawdy ***ual innuendo in my diaries. Not sure that I understood what he was on about to be honest, though he did remind me that there's a Carry On all-nighter on at the Pickford Memorial Hall tonight. I'll have to check that out I think.

Didn't fancy having a chew on my nuts after a rat had been at them. That way only leads to infection - I've learnt that from experience. So I went out onto the streets of Pickford hoping to prise some mulch from the hands of local office workers. Over the past few weeks after my eviction from my old warehouse block, I've picked up a fairly successful way of extracting food from office workers who have a habit of picking up their breakfast from the local branch of Wimpy. I wait down the alley way beside the shop whilst they order their burger and chips then just as they're walking out of that esteemed establishment I step out in front of them and show them my pole. Their shock usually causes them to drop their chips and, if I'm lucky, their burger which I then scoop off and run away with.

Had an attempt this morning, but they don't seem to hold the same amount of fear of my pole these today.

After that unsuccessful attempt, I decided to rummage through the bins of local bowling Superstar, Greg Thomas. Amongst the usual hundred-weight of used tissues and Katich year-books, I hit the motherlode - a discarded pizza. Mmmmm... Toppings. It seemed quite salty though, but beggars can't be choosers and I devoured it quickly.

Onto another grade game and I got a cold welcome to the dressing room from former teammates Gough and Konig; though this was largely due to one of them having left the fridge door open after filling it with a few cans of beer. Annoyingly, a six-pack seemed slightly too large for the fridge door, which wouldn't shut properly with the whole six pack in there together. Thinking of the environment and the Panthers' fuel bill, I broke the six-pack up and shut the door.

It was another successful game for the Panthers. We won by 2 runs and I enjoyed a decent romp with the bat this time. Kinda continued the form I showed during the 20:20 programme with the bat. Good fun.

Went out on the town with Wilson after the game and spent most of the night trying to blag free drinks. The good thing about playing regular cricket at Pickford is that it allows me to use the team showers so I don't smell as bad as I normally would. Wilson can certainly dance the night away, and tore up a few shapes on the dance floor; all hips like some latter-day Rio carnival goer. You should have seen him when the Mavericks classic, "I just wanna dance the night away" came on. My oh my. The two ladies in the place loved it.

Anyway, I got thrown out for trying to grope one of the bar staff and slinked back to my hovel after hiding in a bush in the park for an hour, just for fun.
 

HeathDavisSpeed

Cricket Web: All-Time Legend
28th August

Was woken up this morning by someone walking past singing a jaunty rendition of Black Fingernails, Red Wine. He was singing "I don't understand the point of fingers". Or at least, it sounded like he was singing that. To be perfectly honest, I didn't agree with his point of view on this matter. I see things differently after the lower part of my legs were so fiendishly stolen from my person all those weeks ago.

But it woke me up.

Once again, I wasn't feeling exactly on top of the world this morning. I think it may have been the result of the bet I'd made with a junkie before bed last night. He said that I couldn't down a pint of washing up liquid. I could, and did. That won me $5, another stomach pumping and some serious abdominal pain this morning. Anyway, this meant that I was flushed with some cash this morning and was able to go to the Wimpy and actually make a few choice purchases of my own.

At this point, I feel I need to clarify something I said in my piece yesterday. When I display my pole to customers of the classy establishment better known as Wimpy, this does not mean that I'm flashing my boom-stick at them. Its actually an A1 sized picture of Peter Beardsley that I've attached to a yard-stick using a tube of Bostik that I found at the local municipal refuse site. Sadly, due to my displays of Peter Beardsley on a pole, I had been barred from the Wimpy.

Instead, I had to walk up the highway to Lower Pickford and buy a bit of nosh from the local branch of Georgie Pies. Mmmmm. Nothing finer than a good dog food pie. Full of the goodness of marrowbone jelly, which was just what the doctor ordered for my dodgy guts.

Spent the next 2 hours in the nearby public toilets on a completely unrelated matter.
 

Kweek

Cricketer Of The Year
a rat nibbeling on your balls....

don't you mean Nibbs ratting your balls?
















(i'll leave now)
 

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