You’ll know the joke for which my title is the punchline. The Lone Ranger, surrounded by hordes of hostile Red Indians, turns to his trusty Native American companion and says -‘Looks like we’re in trouble, Tonto.’
I will not play the Tonto card tonight.
I admit to hating the English Rugby team with a passion (although I am happy if they beat France, Oz, NZ or the Pumas). I blame Will Carling and Sir Clive Woodward for that particular hatred.
Football is more tricky. At the age of 16, I drank a couple of under age pints in the County Hotel, Perth whilst cheering on England as they beat West Germany to win a World Cup. I still mostly support the Southrons against all but other British teams.
Cricket is different. I am an unconditional England fan as was my father before me. I’ve told this one before but when I was about six years old, my father suddenly bundled us into the car and drove us 70 miles to Kelso where he spent the whole afternoon watching Jim Laker and others bowling out the Aussies on Uncle Frank’s new TV. The women adjourned for afternoon tea but I got to lie on the carpet in front of said TV with Rinty the Labrador and, like him, completely fail to grasp what was going on. I’ve been hooked ever since.
Fast forward to the 1960’s. ‘We’ are getting gubbed by the Aussies. Dad is driving the Singer Gazelle TBM 660 on a family holiday up the gentle inclines and down the slight declines of the relatively not-flat plains of Wales. Despite the lack of any hills worth mentioning, the signal keeps fading and Dad keeps incandescing. We stop in a small town where the signal is acceptable. Mum and Big Sis go for afternoon tea yet again and Dad and I listen to England collapsing. So, been there and done that.
Ashes-wise, it’s been good for a few series but it seems that the tide has turned and that I’m back in the Welsh flatlands. No problem. Australia were the better team at the Gabba and are the better team at Adelaide. Good luck to them. Pup and his boys definitely deserve major credit.
But tonight I will be watching Sky and listening to TMS in the hope that ‘we’ can somehow grind out a draw over the next two days to keep the series alive until after Christmas.
Not that I’m hopeful and I probably won’t enjoy it. But I can’t miss it.