The problem with Prince Brendan

I love McCullum.

Not in a metrosexual “I wanna have his tattoos” kinda way.

Or in an “I wonder what his semen tastes like” kinda way.

But as a batsman, an entertainer and an artist, I love him.

I think I said “Watching him is like watching two people have sex in a car crash, there are so many ways it can go wrong, but somehow everyone walks away fine, and you can’t believe what you’ve seen.”

But the problem with my McCullum love, is that when he goes out, I seem to lose all interest in New Zealand.

As a cricket team, a country, an Island and as a people.

They just fade away.

It’s like when there is a group of friends in a bar. At the time you are nice to all of them, but you only have your eye on one. Once that one gets sick of your piss and vinegar seduction style and tells you to trot off, you don’t move onto the next friend, you find a new group of friends to hit on, or go home and look up porn.

Or if you get lucky, you take that one home and forget about the friends, but secretly wish one of the friends would have come back so you could see what kind of partnership they would put on.

When McCullum is up and about, you could watch him bat with anyone, even Aaron Redmund, but once he is gone even Ross Taylor doesn’t get you excited.

And it’s a hard act to make Ross Taylor platonic.

When I still wrote off McCullum as an accumulator of 30 odds, Taylor was my favourite kiwi.

Now he fades into beige at the mere mention of McCullum.

I was also a big fan of the perfect boyfriend Jacob Oram.

I liked his lusty big hits, and even ignored his delicate bowling.

Now though, all I see in him is a dude who can’t play short pitch bowling and who falls apart like a piece of origami that’s been pissed on.

So with all that in mind, I am going to watch Battle Royale, as only Battle Royale can give me the sort of violent art that Prince Brendan robbed me of by nicking a wide.www.cricketwithballs.com

Now with new proper english lady blogger.