100, 37 balls, and a record from a single over

Irresistable force, immoveable mountain

An old Chinese paradox. What happens when an irresistable force meets an immoveable object? I prefer the immoveable mountain to the immoveable object version. Last night Scott Styris was an irresistable force, and the answer in his case was “where would you like us to put the mountain, Mr Styris?”^*

100 runs from thirty seven balls. We shouldn't forget the other contributions. Prior hitting sixty before running himself out to bring Styris in (under orders? - only joking); fifty for Murray Goodwin. 230 for three, in twenty overs. That wasn't the end of the evening, because Gloucester (and MM's right: that's rubbish spelling) gave it a go and the difference was pretty much one thirty-four run over when Styris was going particularly ballistic.

Immediately on sitting down we grassed Mr Naughty up for being an away supporter, only to find that we were surrounded by the blighters. It was like a Worzel convention where we were sitting. Maybe the “wannabe Taffs without a bridge” wasn't the most diplomatic line to take.

Not only did we see an awesome innings, we got to see Murali bowl four overs. One of the best spinners in history bowls four of the twenty overs and Sussex still smashed 230 runs. Wonderful. Great atmosphere. Knowledgeable and enthusiastic full house. There was a chorous of Sussex by the Sea in the final over, acknowledged and saluted by Prior.

Balance in all things

Now. The medicals, the health and safety drudges, all the middle-of-the-road people, bang on about the need to jettison excess and look for balance. So. In our little local enclave, two doors away, is a lovely bloke who does something at the railways, and who, I think, has been on one H&S training course too many, and flipped. When he cuts his hedge he wears ear defenders, clear plastic goggles, gloves, and, I should imagine, steel toecap boots. Added to which he will operate the trimmers absolutely to the letter of the manufacturer's safety instructions.

Now. If I did the same, that wouldn't be balance, would it? That'd be safety overload. This means, that in the interest of balance, I have to cut the hedge in trainers (laces undone), leaning all over the place on the wobbly ladder, overreaching like mad, with the MP3 player on full volume to drown out the noise the trimmers make. Then I also have to override the both hands safety levers by securing them with masking tape so that I can get the extra reach one-handed.

Just in case, where is the hospital for rare and tropical bad things?

I've got a bite on the inside of my right forearm. It's been there for days, increasingly red, ugly and itchy. At least a funnel-web spider, if not some even more deadly mutation. Or it was a mosquito and I've got malaria. Something should be done about this. All the fuss about binge drinking, international financial crises, security at the Olympics, and they do nothing about biting insects. Brambles. They should sort out brambles, too.

Olympic highlights

I'm particularly looking forward to the:

Six-a-side paintball; whitewater swimming; table football; swingball; drink-assisted twister; sodoku; and dressage. That's horses. Dancing. Just in case you thought the beach Subbuteo was ridiculous.

*Actually, if the force is actually irresistable, then there's no such thing as an immoveable object. Logically. The reverse also applies: if an object is immoveable, then all forces are resistable. There's also the assumption that the immoveable object is also indestructible. I reckon the smart money's on the force. Forces tend to nibble away at even the stoutest opposition.