#the batsman (off)

[eremin0109]

Listen, I love everything about Ishan and Shubman's relationship off-field, they're just so cute! But I don't think we realize just how well they complement each other (as openers) in the field as well.

Shubman is a 6 ft 1, right-handed batsman who takes his time to settle on the pitch before smashing the big boundaries. He either plays really long innings (8 fucking centuries at 24!) or gets out before even reaching double digits. He's generally calm and composed on the field.

Whereas there's a reason they call Ishan the "pocket dynamite". He's a 5 ft 5, left-handed wicket-keeper batsman who hit the first ball of his debut T20I and ODI for a four and a six respectively. He's also the only player in the world to convert his maiden century into a fucking double ton, in just 126 balls no less! He's someone who usually plays short, explosive innings and needs an anchor on the other end to convert them into bigger scores.

So you see where I'm getting at???

[love-anddeepression]

Miguel x desi girl shenanigans #1

"mig. stop. you're killing me."

"Baby, it's a chai latte."

"EXACTLY. THE FUCK YOU MEAN BY CHAI LATTE HUH?" you shake your head, "You know what never mind, you're turning into a white woman." you sniff and look down in mock sorrow.

He just playfully scoffs, offering you the cup with a sly grin. You glare and swat at his ass, eliciting a rare giggle out of him.

----

"EY CHAL BEY!" you shout at the TV. Miguel looks up from his tablet and hisses as the batsman leaves the pavilion.

"What an idiot." he remarks.

"I know right, bloody gadha." you take a sip of Thums Up.

"Baby, why didn't you get me any?" he pouts.

----

"Oi, try it na?" you try and coax him with a forkful of biriyani.

He just nods but is too distracted by the TV and doesn't take the fork in his mouth.

You groan and put the fork down on the plate, the noise startling Miguel out of his stupor, "No, Baby, wait-

"You wait!" he hears the tap turning on then off and sees you dry your hands and come back to sit next to him.

You use your hand to scoop some rice and tear off a piece of the meat before using youe other hand to cup his chin lightly as you bring the food to his mouth, pushing it in with your thumb.

It's a burst of flavour that leaves him craving more, espeically after seeing you eat with gusto.

You raise an eyebrow at him, "Ek aur?"

--------

Part 2

[myauditionfordrphil]

lost his aggression?? he literally pushed a kid, A LITERAL KID!!?? y’all just cannot handle the fact that he is shit and he’s not the ‘king’ you think he is! the most overrated player i ever saw 😭

First of all I never said that he "lost his aggression", I said that he lost the intensity and the fire in his aggression that he was known for. And secondly that 'kid' has been chirping and acting without any hindrance, it's not as if that badly hurted him or something. He is still going on and playing normally maybe because he is now a professional cricketer who knows that this is not something out of a pandora's box or something Virat did that is completely unheard of. Are we forgetting the times that we have been on the receiving end and it has been called a part of the game. Are we forgetting when Ponting did the same to Bhajji, when this same team made racist comments against a debutant Siraj, when our dearest Bumrah was called "monkey" and "brown dog" by the crowd and this very team stood there laughing? Are we forgetting when even Virat was shouldered intentionally by Haddin or when they made personal comments about his family? Even after all that his aggression always seemed to stay inside the field... wasn't he the same person who stopped the crowd from booing Smith, who went and personally talked to Konstas, and who went and apologized to Mitchell Johnson? I agree that he sometimes overdoes it and acts aggressive unnecessarily but you also have to understand that the Australians are not some kind of doodh ke dhule people, they act a certain way and he replies in the same way, it's as simple as that and perhaps that is why he is one of the most grudgingly respected player among the cricket circle in Australia. Lastly, if you think Virat Kohli, the man who despite facing multiple lean patches throughout his career has had perhaps one of the best records in cricket history, is probably the greatest batsman India has had after Sachin and Gavaskar, and who has been the face of cricket for the past decade is 'overrated', I can't do anything to change your mind. As a person I won't make any comments on him as I don't know him personally or something but cricket wise he has definitely earned the title of 'King'. Surely he is going through a terrible form right now and I vehemently agree with the fact that he needs to buckle up or hang up his boots, but that won't change the fact that for the past 15 years he has been a privilege to watch and has done more for our country and the sport that we can ever imagine to do. I went off on a rant there and it's nothing personal against you but it's just something that I wanted to speak on for a long time.

[thesharkspajamas]

James and Angus play cricket - NO SPOILERS

@im-kikimon

Harriet: James' pallas cat daemon. Assume only James can hear her unless is specified as 'aloud'

Context: James and Lydia are staying with the Bells post season one (dw no spoilers here for the show or the books). James has discovered a love for baking with Helen and a talent for pipe icing. He and Lydia have agreed to help her ice 100ish cupcakes for a commission to the bakery. - I have actually posted a similar scene before if you want to read it, but it DOES CONTAIN SPOILERS for season 1.

This is also part of a larger chapter of a growing fic (~20k words) so some parts have been omitted/added to make it make sense, sorry if the flow is a bit off.

Anita is an OC, she's Helen's sister and is a foster parent. Helen rang her to get some advice about James and Lydia staying with them.

Some cricket terminology:

Whites: cricket is traditionally played in white trousers and t-shirt. This kit is often referred to as ‘cricket whites’ or just ‘whites’

Lad: young man - British slang

Guards: here it’s cricket terminology for where a batsman stands in relation to his stumps.

Stumps: the three sticks behind the batsman in cricket

Bails: little pieces of wood that sit on top of the stumps. If these are knocked off in the right circumstances then the batter is out. They indicate that the stumps have been hit.

James was up early on Sunday morning - hardly surprising as he’d been asleep by eight-thirty last night. He left a note on the chopping board and went for a run with Harriet trotting along beside him. 

His thoughts turned to everything he had to sort out, his obligations to the Beaufort name, supporting Lydia...

“But you’ve got cricket with Angus today. We haven’t played since summer,” Harriet interjected, “and we’ve got to ice the cupcakes for the party.”

Good old Harriet for not letting James get too deep in his own head. He was looking forward to both of those things, “Bet you’re looking forward to the cricket, might be some cricket balls.” He teased Harriet.

She stuck her tongue out at him. Harriet had scratched and gnawed four cricket balls beyond repair while James had been focussing on his bowling once, and since then all unattended cricket balls had had to stay in a zipped bag. She didn’t regret it: not her fault they were leather, and stitched, and ball shaped - like yarn, but better.

They passed a florist’s brimming with colourful blooms and James stopped to take it all in. This was (of course) research for his cupcake designs, not because he liked the look and smell of pretty flowers. 

A young woman came out to meet him, “Morning!” she greeted him cheerily.

“Morning,” James greeted politely, “what are these ones called?” He gently turned a large cluster of blue flowers towards her.

“Those are hydrangeas,” she smiled, “You shopping for anyone?”

“I’m decorating some cakes this afternoon and need some inspiration.” But, now he thought about it, some flowers might be nice for Helen and Ruby as a thanks for last night, and a live model was always better for drawing with - icing was probably the same. “Actually, could I make a bouquet?”

“Yeah, if you want to pick some out, bring them in and I’ll wrap them and arrange them for you. Take your time. I’m still setting up.”

Thank goodness for Apple Pay. James returned from his run with a gorgeous pink, white, blue and purple bunch of flowers. And a red rose for Ruby, just because.

He’d been out longer than he’d realised. He saw Helen clearing some space in a cupboard - “good morning, süßer, nice run?”, she smiled at him.

“Great. Thanks for your help last night.”

“Of course, süßer." held up the list of his and Lydia's favourite childhood foods they'd made last night, some of the baked goods had green stars next to them, “I was going to go food shopping this afternoon. I noticed I used to make quite a few of these at the bakery before we slimmed down. I’m happy to buy you some supermarket stuff, but I still have the original recipes if you’d like to try some at-home baking?”

James felt his eyes widen. “You made the brookies? And the apricot-honey things?” He couldn’t believe it, after his mum had stopped bringing them home from her commute, he’d never been able to find those again, and the Beaufort cooks had never got it just right. 

“I’d love that.” He said sincerely. Speaking of at-home baking…

He pulled the bouquet out from behind his back, “I passed the florist. The brief was pink, blue, white, and purple flowers, right?” he suddenly felt embarrassed; he’d never given a woman flowers before, even if she was Ruby’s mum.

“Oh they’re perfect! That’s very thoughtful of you.” Helen exclaimed and sniffed them. She didn’t mention the rose. “I think you and Angus are leaving for cricket at half-nine, but you’ll be back by one so we can do them after lunch?”

James nodded, “Would it be okay if we listened to some of the prescribed podcasts while we ice? Just as background..” he trailed off. ‘Idiot’, he thought, ‘this was supposed to be fun and here you are wanting to listen to-’

“-That’s a good idea.” Helen cut off his thoughts, “I hope you don’t mind but I called Anita again while you were out. I just wanted some more on how I could help with the preparation and school and stuff like that. She said that creative stuff like this is perfect for prep, listening without distraction might be pretty depressing.” Anita had also recommended positive enforcement of good behaviour, so she continued, “Well done for asking. I know it’s hard to ask for what you need.”

James felt his cheeks heat, “I’ll go and shower”, and beat a hasty retreat. He still had the rose for Ruby. He should be able to catch her before she left for her shift.

Percy and the Range Rover arrived right on time. Percy handed James his Maxton Hall cricket whites, “Good morning, sir. Your cricket bag is in the boot.”

“Thanks Percy,” James ran back inside to change while Percy loaded Angus and the chair into the car. James had just jumped in the shower when Harriet reminded him that he didn’t have any other sports wear besides his (now-stinky and sweaty) running kit. A quick call to Percy had remedied that.

James got into the car.

“I saw Ruby looking very happy this morning, that got anything to do with you?” Angus smirked as he handed James a tupperware of sandwiches. Neither he nor Helen had seen James eat that morning so Helen made something just in case…

“Oh thank you”, James took the food. He hadn’t realised how hungry he was. “I popped by the florist this morning on a run. They had some roses, and, well, turns out Ruby likes roses.” He shrugged, he’d picked it up on a whim, really. No real thought behind it.

He looked out the window and ate the sandwiches, trying to avoid more questioning. ‘It wasn’t that big of a deal’, he thought. ‘It’s just a flower.’

“It’s cute though,” Harriet teased him aloud from her seat. She loved Range Rover heated seats - they were so much better than the Merc’s.

“You’re such a girl.” James teased her back. It was an inside joke between them.

He missed Percy and Angus stifling their laughter in the front seats.

…

A few Adidas-track-suited local boys decided that James was an easy target in his pristine Maxton Hall whites and expensive kit, “Hey posh boy! Wrong club innit?”, “The fuck you doin’ere?” Their jibes echoed around the sports hall.

“He’s with me, lads.” Angus interjected firmly. “He plays the same cricket we do. Josh, Wills, pad up. We’re working on guards today.”

Jams was impressed by how quickly they fell in line under Angus, and the session continued calmly with only the occasional jibe. He’d rarely experienced this sort of bullying - what with his expensive private school education and closely engineered circle of friends - but  he ignored it easily thanks to his father’s training in Beaufort Nonchalance.

Cricket was one of the very few things he and Mortimer had bonded over. Mortimer had had some nets permanently constructed at the mansion so they could practise year round: the result was that James was seriously good at cricket.

When it was time to go into the nets, James warmed himself up slowly; starting with some basic and slow ones, then gradually getting faster, spinning more. He was fast outstripping Josh and Wills as batsmen, watching them get frustrated as they missed and had to right the stumps every time (they’d given up on bails). 

James let rip: alternating fast bowling with different spins, watching as their frustration boiled over.

Angus called it after Josh swore and flinched away from a particularly fast one, “Alright,” He flashed a torch he kept in his pocket until he had everyone’s attention. “Let’s switch batters. James and Callum, pad up!” He made a batting motion with his hands. 

James and a ginger lad jogged over to the kit pile where Harriet was lounging about with the other daemons. It took James a moment to recognise her in the form of an Italian Greyhound. He narrowed his eyes at her and she privately replied, “If I’m fetching cricket balls, I’m doing it comfortably.”

James shrugged, ‘good paparazzi cover’ he guessed, and turned to the ginger boy.

Angus saw them shake hands. Callum was seventeen, basically deaf, and didn’t have many close friends at the club on account of going to a special school. He also knew that Callum liked spending time with people without necessarily talking to them - on account of the extra effort it took to make out conversation with hearing aids - perfect for James.

He overheard Josh and William muttering as they left the nets, “crazy fucker”, “what the fuck is a player like that doin ‘ere?” Angus let them go, he figured they’d learned their lesson.

To absolutely no-one's surprise, James’ batting was also excellent. One of the boys’ dads who stuck around to help sidled up to Angus, “With a player like that, we might just win the league. Where'd you find him?”

Angus didn’t take his eyes off the nets, “He’s one of Ruby’s schoolmates, he’s staying with us for a while.”

“Maxton Hall,” the father read the crest of James’ bag, “that the posh one up the road?”

Angus saw the ‘how do you afford that?’ question coming and shut it down quickly. “Yeah, Ruby’s on scholarship. I dunno if we’ll be able to keep him, but the other lads are copying him, so however long we do get him, we’ll see some permanent improvement.”

It was true: Josh and Will aside, the other boys had watched James’ bowls intently, and they’d all been chatting with him in the queue. It seemed that James fitted into this little club quite nicely.  

[hypnotisedfireflies]

Your latest fic was awesome! Can you share more times that Joel was just not entertained by Lachie but Tess & Tommy loved him anyway? I think it’s so funny that Joel is not charmed but everyone else has a soft spot for him.

Hi anon! Sorry it took me awhile, but I've finally gotten to this in a little ficlet that I had so much fun writing - thank you for the fun prompt!

Howzat?!

Summer, 2008, Indianapolis

Towards the end of Chapter 5 of Spite.

“You’re overthinking it, you’re all overthinking it.”

Joel frowned.  There was a lot of noise down on the concourse.  He ducked his head as he walked through a partially caved in section of the building.  He and Tommy had put some work into it, securing the walkway with beams to prevent it coming down on anyone as they passed through.  Well, assuming the whole fucking building didn’t decide to just pack it all in and collapse on itself.  There weren’t enough support beams in the world to save it.

“It’s easy.  You tuck it up here.  Run.  Lean.  Swing.  Thrust. Release.”

That was Lachie, running his fucking mouth off again.  Joel came upon the mezzanine and walked slowly to the edge.  He rested his forearms on the railing and looked down.

What the hell …

Lachie, Tommy, Hannah, Rachel and Tess were lined up below.  Lachie was a little ahead of the others, demonstrating – of all things – how to throw a ball.  The other four were copying his actions with varying degrees of success.

“Okay, now you all show me how it’s done.”

The four went back and geared themselves up.  On Lachie’s word they copied the motions again.  They all kept their balls in hand when he told them to release, except Rachel, whose tennis ball hit Lachie right in the chest.

“The fuck!  Rachel!”

“Oops!  Sorry!”

“You don’t let it go!”

“It slipped!”

“Well, go get it.”

Tommy muttered something to Hannah and she giggled while they waited for Rachel to fetch the ball out of the garden.  She returned to her place and they awaited further instructions.  Tess was tossing her ball up and down in the air.

“Okay, everyone show me.  One by one.”  Lachie walked along the line.  “Okay, Hannah.  That’s pretty good.  Maybe a little more snap in your wrist.  Tommy, that’s … shithouse, but the basic – never mind.”

“Only doin’ what you fuckin’ said!”

“It’s not fucking baseball.  Stop pitching like it’s baseball!” Lachie snapped, and moved along to Tess.  “That’s not bad, but you’ve gotta follow through.  Rachel?”  Beat.  “Yeah, okay.  That’s as good as we’re gonna get.”  Lachie stood back and looked them over.  “Well, congratulations.  You won’t be taking the Ashes home any time soon, but you dickheads know how to bowl.”

Joel realised Tess was looking up at him.  She grinned and held up the ball, as if offering to toss it up.  He shook his head slightly.  He wanted no part of whatever that nonsense was down there. 

They arranged themselves for a game.  The other parts of it had been learned while he was on watch, evidently, because the players seemed to know what they were about.  Hannah was batting (“not batter, batsman,” Lachie stressed).  She held a crudely made, flat-faced bat and stood before painted lines on a raised garden bed.  There were three long vertical brushes with two shorter ones lying horizontally on top.

“These:  wickets.”  Lachie pointed at them.  “Hit these.  Servopoulos, you stand there.”

He positioned her a short distance away, facing Hannah.  She too had one of those flat-faced bats.  What the fuck were they going to do, beat each other to death with them?  Lachie ordered Rachel and Tommy out into what was meant to be the field and then tossed a ball into the air.

The first few balls he bowled at Hannah were anticlimactic.  She missed them all.  They bounced off the painted retaining wall and Rachel and Tommy scurried off after them, returning these to Lachie.  Tess grinned up at Joel.  Her hair was in a long ponytail and she was wearing that top that kept sliding off one shoulder.  He could think of much better ways to spend her time.  But her smile was kind of disarming and he just shook his head at her again, dismayed that she was bothering with this nonsense with that irritating little shit.

And then there was a great thwack and Lachie was screeching at Tess to run.  Joel straightened up and felt a cold sweat break out across his brow as he looked for the threat.  Tess and Hannah were running in opposite directions.  Rachel was off in another and Tommy was shouting, “get it, get it!”

Get what!?

And then Hannah and Tess ran back the way they had come and he realised – oh.  Right.  It was just this stupid fucking game.

And that was how it went on.  The ball would be thrown, someone would hit it, and then the two batters (batsmen) would run back and forth, swapping places until the ball was retrieved.  From what Joel could gather, it seemed the point was to defend the wickets.  Lachie was clearly pulling his punches at first and making it easy for Hannah – and Tess, when it was her turn – to hit the ball.  But then Hannah did something so unexpected that made Lachie start trying in earnest to get her out.

Hannah hit the ball so hard that it rose up through the atrium and smashed through one of the remaining windows.  She and Tess screamed and ran at each other, stopping long enough to hug and jump up and down.  Lachie threw up both arms in the air. 

“It’s a six!”

“Do we have to get that?  I don’t want to get that,” Rachel said, resting her hands on her knees.

“You don’t have to run, you got six!”  Lachie shouted at Hannah and Tess.  “Stop!  You got six runs!”

“We can get more!”  Hannah was really going for it.

“It’s the max, dickhead!  We’ll get another ball.”

Tommy got Tess and Hannah out by catching the ball during the next round.  Lachie almost bowled Tommy over in an enormous hug and frantically waved at Rachel to join them, which she did, and both Tommy and Rachel seemed kind of confused at Lachie’s gusto.  He was jumping up and down and squeezing them tight.

Tommy and Lachie were batting next and Rachel, whose aim was quietly awesome, took her turn to bowl.  She got Tommy out first go and Lachie had to try and explain to Tommy how he was supposed to stand to protect the wickets. 

Joel came downstairs when they finally took a break.  He passed Tess a bottle of water and she took a big drink, spilling some down her neck.  She was smirking at him.

“Just come down and play,” she said.  “Scowling up there’s not any fun.”

“The fuck are you even playin’?” 

“Cricket!”

“No, thank you.”

“Oh, come on.  You watched all that time.  Can’t have been that bad.”

“I was watchin’ you.”

She took another sip.  “You’d have fun.”

Joel rolled his eyes skyward and shook his head.  “Pass.”

“Hey, Joel, you see that?  I did that.”  Hannah proudly pointed out the hole in the glass.

“Right.”

“She’s got some fuckin’ power,” Tommy grinned proudly, tugging her braid.  “You should come play, big brother.  Then I won’t look so fuckin’ shit.”

Joel glanced toward Lachie, who was giving Rachel batting pointers.  He wasn’t going to give the little shit the pleasure.  He would never hear the end of it. 

“Pass,” he said again.  He leaned toward Tess and murmured, “you know where to find me when you’re bored.”

“Your missus is a fuckin’ gun!”  Lachie enthused. 

Joel stared at him for a moment.  Then he rolled his eyes and headed back upstairs.  What the hell had happened to everybody?  They needed to get out more.  This place was fucking with them in more ways than one. 

He glanced down once more as the game started up again.  There was another stinging thwack and shouts of joy and consternation.  Tess was holding a ball aloft and Lachie lifted her up, spinning her around while Rachel complained about something being “unfair” at the top of her lungs.  Tommy ran toward Tess and Lachie with his arms raised and collided with them in joy.

Hannah threw her bat down. 

Joel shook his head and left them to it. 

So it might be awhile, he figured, before she was bored.

[whatthefishh]

my last ask reminded me ab the thot i forgot ab lol:

facial hair

**I JUST READ YOUR REPLY AND YOU DON'T LIKE MUSTACHES???? 😭**

uhhh -- well, i write a lot of steven/miguel fics so i don't explore the facial hair aspect of oscar (even though he has the most iconic staches and beards out there) so let's discuss + lemme get you on the 'stache train with me:

Exhibit A: Llewyn Davis

this hot fucking mess has zero right to look this good. dude was literally on the verge of passing out and/or crying the whole movie. also his beard is way too well kept for him to be homeless.

tell me you wouldn't enjoy the beard burn he'd leave between your thighs or holding onto those cute curls eeee --

Exhibit B: Nathan Bateman

THIS BALD BITCH (ok -- peek at the vein in his arm...) literally doesn't need to be bald but he probably thinks he's too big-brained™️ for hair or something idk.

he could literally kiss me until my whole mouth area and chin turn red and i wouldn't care 😭. he'd probably be a dick and rub himself all over me just to irritate my skin (i'm sensitive) then tease me ab it after.

let's face it, dude would look magnificent eating ice cream (or dripping with heat as he lifts his face from my -----) uhhh ok next

Exhibit C: Blue Jones

yeah, he looks like a slut. i mean the porn stache really just staples the word "pimp" onto his forehead. he's definitely more into himself than anyone else and he looks like a class A pervert, but i'd still hit it tho 💀

NEXT!

Exhibit D: Duke Leto and Jonathan Levy

i put them together bc of their full beards and hair. both give off 'have a family but still ready to fuck' vibes, but jonathan is softer and domestic 🥺

look at those beards and how well they frame his lips, it's like he's FORCING you to look 🫠 AND THE GREEYING HAIRRR EEEEE I NEED

LAST ONE -> EXHIBIT EEEEE: THE FUCKING BEARD HE HAD DURING THE TF PRESS TOUR

"this is powerful"

"clean shaven 5 days ago" -- ok but why would he say that??? does he wants me to collapse??? does he want to be bitten???

i genuinely lost track of the reasoning behind this ask (i'm sleep deprived and deliriously screaming ab this man) idk if i like facial hair or if it's just irresistible on him...either way i wanna feel it everywhere 😵‍💫

Omg em!! I absolutely adore beards especially Oscar’s!!! It’s the moustache only look that I’m always eek about and yet I still pine after Blue Jones 😂😳

I need to watch Inside Llewyn Davis still, I know I’ve got some catching up to do but his beard does look ridiculously well kept for a homeless guy you’re right.

Nathan Batsman’s beard is something I’m a very open whore about yes to the carpet burnnnnnnn

Jonathan levy is the perfect example of just like… ‘Messy academic hot man that I want to make even more of a mess of’. That’s a type, right? Adore. Esp the greys!!!! I love the fucking greys!!! Father of my children!!!

The god damn TF interviews ☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️

He said that because he wants you to know that he knows exactly what he says and does to us.

Yes to facial hair especially on Oscar. Just the stache on other men get the fuck away from me 😂

[stokesy55]

Just for fun, how do you think Jimmy and Ali would react to the various guys VK brings home while they're not together: Kane, Rohit, ABD, Glenn, Faf, Joey, Ben

Kane I think they like best, he’s sweet and caring (and importantly to Jimmy beta so he can still overpower him). He treats VK the best and Ali may or may not have been looking up Indian wedding ceremonies seriously thinking VK had found the one. They’re all very heartbroken when that one comes to an end, and Ali still doesn’t get it.

Jimmy is confused when Ali explained that Rohit is VK’s boyfriend, having been 1000% convinced they were just really close friends. He can’t get a read on Rohit which bugs the bowler, and although Ali is happy for them Jimmy is quietly quite glad when that one comes to an end.

Ali isn’t a fan of ABD, thinking he’s pushing VK into situations that the batsman might not be choosing. But VK is smitten and any talks of a warning just get a load of back chat and “you’re not my real dad” style snips thrown Ali’s way. Jimmy assures the opener that he’d handle ABD if push came to shove. Ali isn’t convinced Jimmy would have the upper hand. It’s partially Ali’s pressure that sees that relationship coming to an end.

Jimmy is initially peeved when VK once again says his boyfriend is Australian, but he can’t help but coo at them when he discovers it’s another omega VK is bringing home. Ali agrees they’re cute, but he’s concerned about what bringing another omega into their weird little dynamic might do, and he fears Jimmy will make another bonding. VK is pissed that Ali’s weirdness with Glenn pushed him away.

Jimmy has a bit more time for Faf (and no it’s not purely because of his stellar stats against Australia, it’s not all about cricket Ali) but still feels a bit threatened by him. It’s Faf who ends this one because he wants to share heats with VK and he can’t. VK quietly is happy about the end of the relationship because they’d only been dating for three months and the alpha was already trying to bond him? Ali tries to impress that if VK is not comfortable he should say no in any situation. Anyone who actually loves him will respect his wishes.

Considering VK has been living with Ali and Jim for a while and Joe is basically their adopted son, this one kind of sort of accidentally happens? Ali is bringing them both out another beer after Joe has come over for a summer barbecue and VK may have grabbed Joe by the collar and they might be making out and Ali might have to check there is no glass in his foot because he possibly dropped the beer bottles in shock? Jimmy is very comfortable with this match and although it’s one of Ali’s favourites that VK has dated (he knows Joey will treat him right) something never quite feels right about it.

The stern words and look Jimmy gives Ben as he comes in the house for the first time, slightly nervous but trying not to show it as VK clings to his hand so tight, cause Ali to even tell Jimmy to calm down. If looks could kill… Which makes no sense to Ali because it’s Ben and they know Ben and not a chance Ben is going to do anything to hurt VK. But to Jimmy he is another alpha and it is another rival. He finds himself almost being possessive with VK in front of Ben, asking him silently to rise to the fight. Ben seems after another useless nets sessions because all Jimmy is trying to do is take his head off that maybe VK isn’t worth the hassle. VK is not happy with Jimmy when he discovers, again, an alpha suitor has left him because of the bowler.

[overdecorated-furniture]

OC Interviews - Tag Game

Thank you for the tag, @tildeathiwillwrite.

Doing this with the main characters from my historical fiction novel, The Jack of Diamonds. So Philip Devlin, Anne Marlon, John Grey, and Ezio Dellucci.

Gently tagging @annakayy, @athenswrites, @simonnebethel, @alextheoccasionalwriter, @coffeewritesfiction, and an open tag to anyone wanting to jump in. As ever, no pressure and only if you want to.

Interviews under the cut:

"Are you named after anyone?"

Philip: Not that I am aware of. Philip is a relatively common name in my family though.

Anne: I believe my mother named me after Anne Neville, from the period of the Wars of the Roses.

John: No, I am not named after anyone. (Writer note: he is named after a Victorian Gypsy.)

Ezio: I am entirely unique! No one else has my name! (Writer note: he wasn't named after Ezio Auditore from Assassin's Creed, it is just a coincidence.)

"When was the last time you cried?"

Philip: If you must know it was in 1887, when I was fourteen. This is an impertinent question.

Anne: Last night... my elder brother and I had something of a row, but it has been resolved now.

John: I believe I may have shed a few tears when I had a metal shard removed from my arm in 1889.

Ezio: Two years ago, in Paris, of heartbreak. It was very romantic.

"Do you have kids?"

Philip: No, and I doubt I would be a good father if I did.

Anne: Not yet, but I should like to have some.

John: Yes, a daughter called Violet. She is ten years of age now.

Ezio: I have so many siblings, I do not wish for children.

"Do you use sarcasm a lot?"

Philip: Of course, it is invaluable when dealing with bores.

Anne: I try not to, it always seems a little rude.

John: What do you think? Of course I do!

Ezio: Who does not use sarcasm??

"What is the first thing you notice about people?"

Philip: Their eyes, and then what jewellery they are wearing.

Anne: What they are holding, and where their hands are generally.

John: Their clothes. You can tell a lot about a person's wealth from their clothes.

Ezio: Any unusual shapes in pockets.

"What is your eye colour?"

Philip: Ice blue.

Anne: Sky blue, with little yellow flecks.

John: Dark brown.

Ezio: As green as the sea around Venezia.

"Scary movies or happy endings?"

Philip: I prefer the suspense, as it keeps my mind entirely focused. Romance is easy to wander from.

Anne: Happy endings! Life is so complex, it is nice to see all come right in the end.

John: I suppose the scary option? Most novels incorporate a sense of dread and a happy ending...

Ezio: Like Caro Philip, I enjoy the thrill of suspense!

"Any special talents?"

Philip: I am rather talented at sleight of hand tricks, and an excellent swimmer.

Anne: I can play the piano well, and I write occasionally.

John: I am a con-artist, and I flatter myself a good batsman in cricket.

Ezio: I am acrobatic, an excellent fighter and I can act well.

"Where were you born?"

Philip: Venice. My parents were on the grand tour at the time.

Anne: Our family home in Bath. It is a really lovely place, but my brother was obliged to sell it.

John: My parents' house on Caster Lane, Isle of Dogs, London.

Ezio: Rio de la Pleta, Venezia! We have a lovely palazzo, with frescoes everywhere.

"Do you have any pets?"

Philip: No, my parents can't abide them.

Anne: I have a tabby house cat, called Shelley.

John: I did have a dog, but the blasted creature ran off.

Ezio: I dislike pets, but should like to own a horse for riding.

"What sort of sports do you play?"

Philip: I row very well.

Anne: I am rather sedentary, but I do play a little tennis and chess.

John: Cricket, darts, card and dice games.

Ezio: I enjoy hunting, rowing, swimming and chess.

"How tall are you?"

Philip: Six feet and two inches. Entirely respectable.

Anne: Slightly taller than most women, five feet and six inches.

John: five feet and ten inches. Devlin enjoys lording over me as regards his height.

Ezio: Why should I tell you? I am tall enough. (Writer note: he is five feet and four inches, and annoyed about it.)

"What was your favourite subject in school?"

Philip: My tutor greatly encouraged my love of the Classics and Ancient Greece.

Anne: When I was at boarding school, I rather enjoyed Literature. My tutor after that discouraged me from the subject.

John: I never went to school.

Ezio: I enjoyed my father teaching me how to fence!

"What is your dream job?"

Philip: If I were obliged to earn a living, perhaps an historian?

Anne: An occupation for a woman? Well... perhaps my brother would let me into Parliament.

John: A tailor, as it pays fairly well.

Ezio: I would not wish for any occupation other than the one I already have.

Happy writing! 🌿

[stoookes]

My favourite cross-country ship has to be Patty with Rishabh Pant! They've argued and sledged eo a few times on the field, but they've also been friendly off it. Pat has made public comments praising Rishabh, saying he's a very dangerous batsman and difficult to bowl to, simply because he's so unorthodox, he can take the game away at any point in time, how rishabh has given him many a sleepless night, and also, how he's scared of bowling to Rishabh because Rishu can whack him in six different places in six balls of the over 😂😂😂

Idk, the idea of towering, scary, lethal, 6 foot 4 inch pace bowler Pat being scared of tiny cheeky baby 5 foot 5 inch Rishabh and being bullied and ordered around by him is funny and cute to me 🤣

And then I saw an Insta reel on Pat and Rishabh, referencing Pat's comments on Rishu. The song used in the background was a popular one and the lyrics went like "Darta jahan humse, hum tose darte, ye sab jaane mori raniya." Which translates into "The world fears me, but I fear you, and everyone knows this, my queen." And ahhh that's so cute, Patty singing that to Rishabh 😭❤️😭❤️

Ahahaha that is adorable

[pct-zindabad]

THE WRATH OF KHAN

Imran Khan is indisputably Pakistan’s greatest cricketer. As an all-rounder, he bears comparison with the best there have ever been, a skillful fast bowler and resourceful batsman with a solid defense. But all of them he was a great leader that he really stood out. If you see the history of Pakistan cricket, it shows that Pakistan is a notoriously difficult team to captain.

But he had the massive charisma and stature to unify them and drive them to play above themselves, and that is quite a talent. His finest hour was undoubtedly guiding Pakistan to their first World Cup triumph in 1992, top-scoring with 72 in the final against England at MCG in front of 87k spectators. Although, Imran’s famously imploring his team earlier in the tournament when their hopes hung by a thread to fight ‘like cornered tigers’.

But he has to his name several other outstanding achievements. Imran Khan-led Pakistan to their first Test series wins in both India 1986-87 – obviously a huge thing in his country – and England in 1987. He also led Pakistan to three drawn series in a row against West Indies when West Indies were at the height of their powers. Pakistan, in fact, were the first side to seriously challenge West Indian supremacy.

When they won Test Match at Guyana in 1988, then it was the first time in ten years that West Indies had lost a home Test. The major contribution of Imran Khan when he took 11 wickets in the game. In his career, Imran claimed 80 wickets at 21.18 apiece against West Indies, an incredible record given how strong they were at the time.

He scored some important runs against them too, notably in his final series against West Indies in 1990– 91 when he averaged 50.33 (his overall average against West Indies was 27.67). Imran, who led Pakistan on and off for ten years from 1982 to 1992, mentored some fine players during that period, notably fast bowlers Wasim Akram, Waqar Younis, and Aaqib Javed.

Especially two w’s who swung the ball at pace even greater distances than he did. Imran had the bearing of a leader and for the most part, the players followed. Captaincy elevated his game to a striking degree, averaging 50.55 with the bat and 19.90 with the ball. He turned himself into a considerable bowler with an astonishing record inside Pakistan where visiting fast bowlers tended to find life desperately hard.

Imran himself took 163 wickets at 19.20 apiece there, a better record than he had elsewhere (his overall record was a hugely impressive 362 wickets in 88 Tests at 22.81 each; no one had taken more for Pakistan at the time he retired). Some of the famous players never faced him in Pakistan as he was nursing a stress fracture that prevented him from bowling for the best part of two years when toured therein 1983–84.

England encountered him in 1982 and 1987 and he was a major force both times. In three Tests in 1982, when we were perhaps a little fortunate to win the series 2–1, he scored 212 runs and took 21 wickets. However, he came to England with a passion to beat England in England in 1987. And he led the Pakistan side to do the first time.

In that series, he again took 21 wickets and was the match-winner with the ball in the one game that had a positive outcome at Headingly Leeds. Imran Khan bowling immaculately to take seven for 40 in the second innings. Imran, who was at Oxford in the early 1970s and from there joined Worcestershire, started out as a brisk medium-pacer but through determination and intelligence turned himself into a genuine fast bowler of quality. His two cousins Majid Khan and Javed Burki also led the Pakistan cricket team in the 1960s and 1970s.

Many cricketers remember facing him in one of their earliest games for Leicestershire at around the time he was stepping up his pace. It was the day after David Gower took an early exit from university and we were playing a Benson & Hedges Cup quarter-final at Worcester on a good old New Road pitch with pace and bounce. Gower was caught at slip off him and the ball carried a long way behind me, always a good measure of someone’s speed.

At the age of 18, he made a test debut against England at Edgbaston in 1971 but did not take a permanent place due to below-par performance. Hence, he continued to focus on his education and cricket in England and come back to the side in 1974 on the tour of England.

In county cricket in the period from the mid-1970s to mid-1980s, Imran would have been up there with Mike Procter and Malcolm Marshall as among the best at swinging the ball at pace. Perhaps the thing that completed his education was joining World Series, from which he emerged a far better bowler, learning from watching and working with so many other fine fast bowlers recruited by Kerry Packer. Imran Khan’s charismatic personality and athletic talent made him a popular celebrity all over the world.

In 1976, Imran took 6 for 63 and 6 for 102, for a match figure of 12 wickets to lead his country to 8 wickets win in the 3rdTest at Sydney. This spell surprises the whole Australian team and Pakistani dressing room. Before that match, he was having 9 test matches experience with 25 wickets under his belt with a heavy average of 43.52. Pakistan was trailing 0-1 in the tough series, but Imran’s hostile bowling spell makes Pakistan a marked ascent in the world of cricket.

In 1980, Imran Khan scored 123 runs in the first Test century against the powerful bowling attack of West Indies at Lahore. The years in which he played from 1980 to 1986, on either side of his lay-off for the stress fracture, he was taking his Test wickets at a very cheap cost. In 1982 he returned what remains the best match figures for Pakistan in Tests of 14 for 114 against Sri Lanka in Lahore. The following winter he took an incredible 40 wickets at 13.95 in six Tests against India.

What the Pakistan bowlers, led by Imran and Sarfraz Nawaz, seemed to understand better than everyone else was the mysterious art of swinging the old ball. Therefore, for a batsman, coping with anyone who could move the ball – whether old or new – both ways were always a challenge. You worked hard to get your runs.

The early 1980s was a great era for all-rounders with Imran Khan, Ian Botham, Richard Hadlee, and Kapil Dev all doing great things and rivaling each other for the status of top dog. In the 1987 Cricket World Cup, Khan decided to quit international cricket. But later, the Pakistan public and Zia-ul-Haq the Prime Minister requested him to take back his retirement. He could not reject the public appeal and return to international cricket until 1992.

In terms of bowling, Imran was perhaps consistently the quickest of them. Botham had times where he bowled with the same sort of pace, Hadlee could bowl a sharp delivery if needed but in comparison was slightly down on pace overall, and Kapil was brisker medium than brisk. But they all moved the ball in the air or hit the seam or both, and that was really what made them so difficult to face.

In July 1987, Imran became the first Pakistani bowler to take 300 wickets milestone during the 3rd Test vs England at Lords. If you see the stats, then Imran and Hadlee stood well out in front, averaging around 22 while Botham and Kapil took their wickets at a cost in the high 20s, a reflection really that they were unable to maintain their early brilliance into older age.

Ian Botham probably ranked first as a batsman but Imran, who began his career down the order, developed into a seriously good top-order player and accordingly ended up with six Test hundreds to his name (Botham made 14, Kapil eight, and Hadlee two). Imran kept on improving and became a world-class batsman in all forms.

Indeed, towards the end of his career, he was playing more as a batsman who bowled than a bowler who batted, and when he scored those runs in the 1992 World Cup final, he was batting at number 3. His Test record with the bat was highly respectable, an average of 37.69 comparing well to Botham’s 33.54, Kapil’s 31.05, and Hadlee’s 27.16.

Imran retired from all forms of cricket after winning the 1992 world cup. What gives Imran preeminence in this all-rounder fest is his stature as a leader of a national side that had previously lacked any direction. Since Imran, Pakistan cricket has rarely been stable. Talented players continue to be produced in extraordinary numbers given the absence of a coherent domestic structure.

But it has been engulfed in more than one corruption scandal, while a terrorist attack on a touring Sri Lanka team in 2009 has forced them since to set up a new home in the Middle East. Imran himself has entered politics in the ambitious hope of addressing his country’s many problems. After retirement, he entered politics and outspoken critic of government corruption in Pakistan.

Imran Khan laid the foundation of Pakistan Tehreek-e-Insaf in 1996. Imran Khan started a new journey into Pakistan politics and continued their efforts after badly failing in the 2002, and 2007 elections. Eventually, his efforts bring some happiness to his party becoming a strong candidate for the 2013 elections.

Even in one accident he badly injured his neck and back to falling from a platform at an election campaign rally. Therefore, his braveness in fighting against corruption & poverty won a plurality of seats in the July 2018 elections. Then he became the 22nd prime minister of Pakistan. The first cricketer to be knighted a prime minister of any country.

Imran Khan remains a philanthropist in the public eye. He has a great passion to build a cancer hospital after his mother died of those diseases in 1985. His wish was fulfilled by completing Shaukat Khanum Hospital in Lahore in 1994 named after Khan’s mother.

[mohammad74nayeem]

An Innocent Cricket Player

Kane Stuart Williamson, is a great cricketer from New Zealand. He was born on August 8, 1990. Now he serves as captain of the country's limited-overs squad. Kane is most run scorer for New Zealand in a test match on February 27, 2023. He is a right handed batsman and per time right arm off spinner. 

In the year of December 2007, Williamson made his first-class cricket debut.That same year, he visited Indian U-19 squad in his U-19 debut, and he was selected as the team's captain for the 2008 U-19 Cricket World Cup. He made his debut in abroad in 2010. At the 2011, 2015, and 2019 Cricket World Cups as well as the 2012, 2014, 2016, and 2021 ICC World Twenty20s, Williamson has highlighted New Zealand.

In ICC World Twenty20,2016 he led New Zealand on a full-time basis for the first time. At the 2019 Cricket World Cup, he led New Zealand as their captain, guiding them to the championship game and earning Player of the Tournament honors. He top up Virat Kohli and Steve Smith to become the top-ranked Test batsman in the world on December 31, 2020, when he attained a Test batting rating of 890.[3][4] Both the accolade for Test cricketer of the decade and the Sir Garfield Sobers accolade for ICC Male Cricketer of the Decade were nominated for him.Along with Joe Root, Steve Smith, and Virat Kohli, Ian Chappell and Martin Crowe place Williamson among the best four or five Test cricket batters of the present. 5,6,7.

[superghfan]

Steve Hardy performs “Casey At The Bat” - Nurses Ball (1994)

The outlook wasn't brilliant for the Mudville nine that day: The score stood four to two, with but one inning more to play, And then when Cooney died at first, and Barrows did the same, A pall-like silence fell upon the patrons of the game.

A straggling few got up to go in deep despair. The rest Clung to the hope which springs eternal in the human breast; They thought, "If only Casey could but get a whack at that— We'd put up even money now, with Casey at the bat."

But Flynn preceded Casey, as did also Jimmy Blake, And the former was a hoodoo, while the latter was a cake; So upon that stricken multitude grim melancholy sat, For there seemed but little chance of Casey getting to the bat.

But Flynn let drive a single, to the wonderment of all, And Blake, the much despisèd, tore the cover off the ball; And when the dust had lifted, and men saw what had occurred, There was Jimmy safe at second and Flynn a-hugging third.

Then from five thousand throats and more there rose a lusty yell; It rumbled through the valley, it rattled in the dell; It pounded on the mountain and recoiled upon the flat, For Casey, mighty Casey, was advancing to the bat.

There was ease in Casey's manner as he stepped into his place; There was pride in Casey's bearing and a smile lit Casey's face. And when, responding to the cheers, he lightly doffed his hat, No stranger in the crowd could doubt 'twas Casey at the bat.

Ten thousand eyes were on him as he rubbed his hands with dirt; Five thousand tongues applauded when he wiped them on his shirt; Then while the writhing pitcher ground the ball into his hip, Defiance flashed in Casey's eye, a sneer curled Casey's lip.

And now the leather-covered sphere came hurtling through the air, And Casey stood a-watching it in haughty grandeur there. Close by the sturdy batsman the ball unheeded sped— "That ain't my style," said Casey. "Strike one!" the umpire said.

From the benches, black with people, there went up a muffled roar, Like the beating of the storm-waves on a stern and distant shore; "Kill him! Kill the umpire!" shouted someone on the stand; And it's likely they'd have killed him had not Casey raised his hand.

With a smile of Christian charity great Casey's visage shone; He stilled the rising tumult; he bade the game go on; He signaled to the pitcher, and once more the dun sphere flew; But Casey still ignored it and the umpire said, "Strike two!"

"Fraud!" cried the maddened thousands, and echo answered "Fraud!" But one scornful look from Casey and the audience was awed. They saw his face grow stern and cold, they saw his muscles strain, And they knew that Casey wouldn't let that ball go by again.

The sneer is gone from Casey's lip, his teeth are clenched in hate, He pounds with cruel violence his bat upon the plate; And now the pitcher holds the ball, and now he lets it go, And now the air is shattered by the force of Casey's blow.

Oh, somewhere in this favoured land the sun is shining bright, The band is playing somewhere, and somewhere hearts are light; And somewhere men are laughing, and somewhere children shout, But there is no joy in Mudville—mighty Casey has struck out.

Ernest Lawrence Thayer - 1863-1940

[common-man]

Small Story 119.

Small Story 119 Senthil's Reunion: A Vacation of Peace

Senthil arrived at the Karaikudi bus station, where his old friend Karthik greeted him warmly and took him to his car. They had both studied together at IIT Chennai but had since moved to different parts of the world for their careers—Senthil to Singapore and Karthik to Australia. Both were originally from Madurai. Karthik’s wife’s family hailed from Karaikudi, and they were there on vacation—Senthil had come from Madurai to visit.

As they chatted about their college days, Senthil handed a large packet of gifts to Karthik’s son, Venu, who was in the 12th grade. "Thank you, Uncle," whispered Venu, a tall, handsome boy, and a talented cricketer with several medals to his name. "Venu, you should open it and see inside," said Senthil. Venu eagerly opened the gift to find a beautiful shirt with a cricket bat monogram. "Lovely! I like this," he said, clearly pleased by the thoughtful gift, especially since he was an avid batsman.

Karthik’s wife, Valliammai, asked with curiosity, "Anna, why didn’t you bring Lalitha with you?"

"She had to attend a wedding in Alwar Thirunagari," Karthik replied. "One of her classmate's brother’s wedding. It's a famous Srivaishnava sthalam."

After a delicious Chettinad lunch, the friends rested for a while. Later, over tea, Karthik, with a mischievous twinkle in his eye, said, "I’m going to take you to a place that will shock you."

Senthil, intrigued, asked, "Where, man?"

"Wait and see," Karthik replied, as he stopped in front of a grand house. He parked the car and led Senthil inside. When Karthik rang the doorbell, a young boy of about sixteen answered and greeted Karthik with warmth.

"Mummy, Karthik Uncle has come!" he called out.

A sweet voice from inside responded, "I’m coming," and soon, a beautiful lady appeared. Senthil was stunned. "How is Nandhini here in Karaikudi?" he thought.

Nandhini, equally surprised to see him, gasped. They had both attended the same school in Madurai, and Senthil had harbored a crush on her from a young age. She, too, had feelings for him. However, Nandhini’s father, a textile engineer at Madura Coats, had not approved of her marrying Senthil. After that, Senthil had left Madurai to attend IIT, and they lost touch when Nandhini's phone was switched off. Focused on his studies, he excelled and landed a lucrative job offer in Singapore.

Nandhini smiled warmly and said, "It’s so good to see you after so many years, Senthil. My dad arranged for me to marry a textile engineer from Karaikudi, a man with a wealthy background. It wasn’t my choice, though. Two years ago, my husband had a massive heart attack and passed away."

Senthil realized, in that moment, that life’s decisions were sometimes out of one’s hands. No matter what we choose, ultimate control lies elsewhere.

"By the way, what’s your son’s name?" Senthil asked, his curiosity piqued.

"His name is Senthil," she replied. "I felt blessed to give him that name because it was my late father-in-law’s name, too."

Hearing that name, Senthil realized that, in a way, he had always been a part of Nandhini’s life. Though their paths had diverged, fate had ensured that a part of him remained with her.

Senthil’s vacation in Karaikudi not only allowed him to reconnect with old friends but also gave him the peace and closure he had been seeking. In rediscovering old bonds and reflecting on lost relationships, he found a sense of inner satisfaction and a newfound acceptance of the way things had turned out.

K. Ragavan 8-1-25