Afridi’s Secret Diary: Sleeveless Nights!

If you ask me, I'm confucius. Three months in front of World Cup and I the captain can admit I'm having sleeveless nights like nobody's business.

The team having a head (which is I) but no butt...because salman butt is suspended. And I missing kamran akmal like nobody's business.

kamran is a key player. Late me tell you why. Once my hotel room was locked and he opened it with his tooth!

I don't wanting to talk about asif. One day, in my front, he questioned a pitch curator "You got grass there?". asif...I mean as if I don't know what grass meaning!

The hole team in a mesh. One day younus is captain, another one day yusuf and another one day misbah.

You will not believing me but one day in the nets, azhar ali was talking lonely. I thought he had becomed mad. Know what he was telling? "It was a team effort...boys played well...we played as unit…"

I asked him, what matter was and he said, "Shahid Bhai, who knows, maybe I'll be the captain tomorrow."

Think! Yesterday's kid wanting to be captain tomorrow! This new generation...so amphibious!

But his saying have truth. Nobody knowing who becoming captain yesterday....or is it tomorrow? whoever...

All bad thoughts eating me and I'm loosing piece of mind. Time to stop writing, it's getting darky...another sleeveless night.

Brisbane Report Card for Aussie Bowlers

Can't really blame you if you missed it. The boffins have just revised the Edentata order -- that exclusive club of toothless animals -- adding Australian bowling to the list.

Had a dead earthworm watched them in Brisbane -- provided dead earthworms can watch and are welcome in Brisbane -- it would have gone home with the conviction that it had more venom than the Aussie attack.

Here is the Doosra report card:

1. Peter Siddle: The first innings hat-trick hero bowled as if England had fielded a different XI in the second. At one point, seemed like scratching Alastair Cook to make sure he wasn't limewashed Lara with a mascara;

2. Mitchell Johnson: Bowled like a man who was doing it only to please his Karateka girlfriend but was not liking offending a resenting mother;

3. Ben Hilfenhaus: Was asked to bowl only because Ponting resented him trousering the envelop without breaking a sweat;

4. Xavier Doherty: Peddled crap, as if bowling to himself;

5. Marcus North: Lacked direction beyond that surname.

6. Shane Watson: Bowled with the air of a man who had fixed a deal with the guy upstairs and was told to just release the ball, leaving rest to Him.

If you wondered why KP plays like a blind...

Bhajji on Doosra!

Doosra: So, what happened Bhajji?

Bhajji: Lost a coin, lift your leg moron, maybe you are standing on it.

Doosra: I'm not. Bhajji, I mean what happened that suddenly you started playing like a frontline batsman and struck back-to-back centuries?

Bhajji: Oye, interview started and you didn't tell me you X*&%$#@!...Well, I’m rather sad after those centuries.

Doosra: Sad!

Bhajji: With my talent, I should have scored 13,999 runs by now, just behind Tendulkar. He’s the God you know...Let me tell you, that Batman wasn’t worthy of tying Paaji’s pajama.

Doosra: It’s Bradman.

Bhajji: You kidding! I read in the newspaper – he’s Batman and Robin Singh was his teammate.

Doosra: That’s because you got stuck in the comic strip and did not advance to the sports page. By the way, it’s just Robin and not Robin Singh…

Bhajji: Who cares? And who the hell Batman is compared to Paaji?

Doosra: Bradman...

Bhajji: Why fuss? Have whatever you like! But did he play in IPL? No? You know what James Bond once said? "What he knows of cricket who not IPL knows?"

Doosra: That's CLR James and the actual quote is...anyway, leave it....Against New Zealand you batted so comfortably, the ball must have looked as big as a football?

Bhajji: No fathead, the ball looked like Sreesanth’s cheek and I went slapping (chuckles). But Sree is like a younger bro.

Doosra: We notice you keep it saying these days, ‘Sree like a young bro’. Is it because you don’t have one?

Bhajji: No dumbo, it’s because I think Sree should be as non-existent as my young bro.

Doosra: But your bowling has slipped. Even Ojha is taking more wickets.

Bhajji: You don’t understand, youngsters need encouragement.

Doosra: You mean you deliberately allowed him to hog the limelight?

Bhajji: What else? Besides, now I'm in the team purely as a Bradman.

Doosra : Batman...I mean batsman?

Bhajji: Whatever. Can't keep blabbering with you anymore, I'm a busy man, have to rush. By the way, you sure it's Bradman and not Batman?

A stroll down Critic Street

It was one hell of an experience Doosra can't help but share with readers.

Thinking of this and that, one strayed into an unknown territory and before you know what is what, you are staring at a signboard which tells you have hit the 'Critic Street'.

Flesh creeps as one relates the story.

Before one could separate one’s knotted eyebrows, someone rammed into the midriff and said 'Sorry'.

Looking up, one had this guy who looked perfect from all angles, except his right hand, which lacked the index finger.

For some, maybe five is one too many and you cannot hold it against him. Boris Yeltsin had three on his left hand, Jerry Garcia had four-and-half on his right. Hrithik Roshan provides the contrasting splurge with his six on the right.

So one asked if he would mind telling the story of his missing finger.

"I'm a Harbhajan critic and had just pointed out his poor performance," he said.

He had just finished when one actually heard Harbhajan screaming from behind the clouds:

"I will cut off those fingers!"

Now oracles can be very disturbing. It sort of unnerves you, somehow affecting the coordination among faculties and limbs.

Naturally it was some sort of comfort finding the next guy fully endowed with no part of his well-rounded body gone AWOL.

But before one could engage him in a discussion, he suddenly started his impersonation of a petulant dog, letting out a series of high decibel barks.

"I'm a Sehwag critic," he said. Off went an oracle:

"Jab haathi chalta hai toh bahut saare Janwar bhaungkte hai. the elephant keeps walking ignoring them. That is exactly how I like to deal with my critics."

Meeting the next bird sort of calmed one's frazzled nerves. He had his fingers intact and even better, he did not bark. Only thing that annoyed me is his habit of abruptly suspending discussion, stooping to pick a pebble and throw it.

At one stage, one had to ask him if he would mind saying why he keeps doing that.

"I'm a Tendulkar critic," he said.

And soon a sing-song voice screamed from the sky:

"...people sometimes throw stones and you convert them into milestones."

I tore myself away and kept going till I saw someone, squatting on the ground and leafing through reams of pages of diagrams and speedgun reports.

"Sorry, don't have time for pleasantries. I'm an Irfan Pathan critic, busy figuring out whether he was an express bowler ever."

Oracle: "Critics should understand I was never an express bowler."

SCOOP: International Cricket-Stricken Animals’ Conclave

While the chumps in the mainstream media sedulously twiddled their thumbs in the comfort of their air-conditioned offices, Doosra risked life to get you an exclusive.

An agitated herd of angry animals recently had a clandestine meeting where they blasted cricket and cricketers for making their life miserable.

Here are exclusive excerpts from the Inaugural International Cricket-Stricken Animals' Conclave:

1. Crocodile (S Africa): Guys, as you all know, one can't ignore hygiene these days. After you had a sumptuous deer for lunch, all you want is to muse open-mouthed, while those birds clean your teeth. But peace is never on us. Before you know what is what, you suddenly find yourself in a tangle with Dale Steyn, who insists this is the best way to prepare for a series against Australia. I feel like crying but can't because you'd say I'm shedding crocodile tears.

2. Cat (England): Well, I would say physical pain is bearable but what about mental agony? By the way, I’m Max and I die hundred deaths every time I say Graeme Swann owns me. Cops caught the bugger drink-driving and you know what the !@#$%^&* told them? He said he was tight but had to drive to buy a screwdriver and get me out of a trap! Trap my foot, have you heard a sillier excuse?

3. Mosquito(Sri Lanka): I can sympathise with you. Frankly speaking, I've lost my faith in humanity as a whole. I bit Yuvraj Singh the other day and gifted Virat Kohli a place in the playing XI. Well, one does not expect a drop of blood but a word of acknowledgment would surely not have been amiss? But what you get in the pre-match interview? Not a single word of gratitude from Kohli! This new generation, just taking things for granted.

4. Cricket: I seriously feel you guys are overreacting. All you whine about is one-off incident. What about the daily humiliation we go through? Our grasshopper cousins have already started making fun of us. A small cricket is ridiculed as T20, a bigger one called a Test…I wonder what the world is coming to!

5. Cockroach (Mohali): See, I'm not the Paris Hilton type, always publicity-hungry. Apart from occasionally appearing from nowhere to scare the hell out of the girls, we are a self-effacing community. Once I mistaken trod on Chris Broad's food and he made such a hue and cry, mentioning it in the ICC Match Referee's report. It brought so much of unwanted publicity that I had to kiss my private life goodbye.

6. Donkey (Pakistan): Don't you guys think that all these sound simple whining when compared to the treatment we were subjected to? Butt, Asif and Aamer filled their boots and we were pelted! We have been around for donkey’s years but I can tell you we never had to go through such mental agony and physical pain put together.

7. Calf (Ranchi): I can tell you the life of a calf is not an easy one when you live in Ranchi. Do you have any idea how starvation death looms large over our community? And all because Dhoni has got this silly idea in his fat head that he has to guzzle four litter milk a day to stay fit! I hope you don't mind but all these talk of mental agony and unwanted publicity is pure gibberish when the very existence of me and my cousins is at stake.

Cricket’s journey

Down the road, there was a kennel. Behind the wall, you could hear dogs barking.

There was a crack on the wall and a cricket crawled out of it.

It wiggled its antennas, started chirping and headed towards where the barking was coming from.

Yessir. Cricket has gone to the dogs, if you ask me.