We’ve said it before and we’ll say it again using exactly the same words, because we aren’t going to improve on this:
For Steve Harmison, every innings is like a brief fairground ride with ghosts intermittently leaping out at you, only occasionally the ghosts give you sandwiches, but sometimes the sandwiches have horrifying fillings.
There, that’s pushed Laurence Elderbrook down a notch. You know what that means?
It means we’re one step closer to the NEXT Laurence Elderbook update. Woo hoo. All aboard the fun train.
Well – this Harmison innings certainly had the ghost serving sandwiches – no lobster ones here – and quite a lot of cake too -except for the icing of the 50,
I am hoping btw that Lawrence is stout and when he roars his terrible roars his face is puce.
Harmison batting is like crisps dipped in Guinness – doesn’t make any sense, and lots of people will be disgusted, but it ain’t half enjoyable.
Stupid Monty