This never really happened, did it.
8 wickets, on debut, for a guy with a first class record that makes ordinary look great.
It’s a fucken surreal dream that should include ants coming out of hands.
We don’t even know the dude though.
Imagine you were Krejza’s best friend, his lover, his mother.
Hopefully not all three.
But one of them.
And he was playing his first test.
What is the best result you could hope for, 6 wickets in the match, a handy 2 for in the first innings, an a plucky 4 wickets in the second.
What would you be thinking as the wickets went down one by one.
Dravid, the wall, mounted by your little boy.
Sehwag, the god, struck down by your special guy.
VVS, the surgeon, sliced open by your main man.
Dhoni, the waddling model, side swiped by your mate.
Ganguly, the Giant Alien Lizard, probed by the light of your life.
Then the tailenders, which are the cherry on top of your surreal little day.
Can you imagine how this would feel?
Ofcourse not, because we saw this shit, we don’t know him, and half of us don’t believe what we saw.
Imagine what his family, friends and lovers must be feeling.
Some of them must be thinking they just drank from one of Jason’s spiked drinks.
They must be doubting their reality matrix at this stage.
And if the freaky deaky dream like Krejza experience wasn’t enough, then as they are coming down, a krab scuttles out and makes 90* off 120 balls.
Luis Buñuel couldn’t make that shit up.www.cricketwithballs.com... We constantly get sodomized down the legside
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