ERROL PARKER | Editor-at-large | Contact
A local man with the hand-eye coordination of Shane Lee a carton deep on Boxing Day woke this morning to find a painful reminder of the fact he is not Mark Waugh and cannot walk across his stumps.
The purple albatross around Ross Jenkin’s leg is still sore to the touch and hasn’t stopped growing.
Unfortunately for Ross, this afternoon he has corporate mixed touch, so the pins have to come out and the evidence of his inability to place the Kashmir behind the leather will be on full display.
The 28-year-old sat with The Advocate under the nation’s western-most Moreton Bay Fig tree in Lorregan Park this afternoon, enjoying a box of Jatz and some half-crushed John Player Specials as they watched the corporate sports organiser put the cones out.
“I’m not Mark Waugh,” said Ross, eating a plain Jat.
“Just look at this thing. It’s the size of an emu egg and looks as purple as Derryn Hinch’s first piss of the day. I’m so embarrassed.”
Ross sat back against a root and pulled his shorts down.
“Everyone’s going to ask me about it. What am I supposed to tell them? I compensate for my poor offside strokeplay by goose-stepping across my stumps so I’ve got the room to flick it down to fine leg? As if! I can’t say I mistimed a slog sweep, either. No legspinner in fourth grade can bowl hard enough to bruise someone. A baby, maybe?”
Ross and our reporter saw the robots from KPMG Betoota starting to warm up down on the touch-field.
“Fuck this, man. I had corporate touch. Look at those fucking guys.”
More to come.
