Cricket World Cup

The cricket world cup these days is just like - dare I say it - American Idol, with all the weirdness up front followed by about 25 weeks of the serious business. And I am not sure which bit is more entertaining, after all today we got to meet Dwayne Leverock - a Bermudan prison van driver with a lovely big smile and an even lovelier and bigger wobbly belly - reduce England to 132-5. Click the link. He is magnificent.

I bloody love things like this and I wish I was there. 4 years ago I was, which is a bit depressing. I got hammered with the Ginger Giant, Finch, Lovatt and a load of Dutchmen when England played Holland, around this time. Somehow I lost my trousers on the roof of a pub and I ended up cavorting in the Durban sea like a really confused dolphin. I think I even rang my girlfriend at the time to tell her all this as it was happening and put her onto a few of the locals. Mariko, I am sorry.

4 years ago Kenya got to the sodding semi finals and Ravi Shah - who I captained at University - was in their team. This made me feel like a loser, and I wish now I had decamped to Bermuda to try and bowl spin with Dwayne Leverock, and perhaps drive a prison van in between times.

I've been listening to some of the Bermudans speak today. None of them appear to have executive stress. All of them are softly spoken and quick to laugh. If I leave now I might be able to make 2011.

Next time: my tips for the tournament, so in the months and years to come we can all laugh at my total lack of skill and judgment.