There are some gems in this morning’s Telegraph, by Simon Briggs; my favourite of Kevin Pietersen and his uber-confidence:
So where exactly did Pietersen develop his supernatural sang-froid? Well, a story from the Southampton local leagues provides a clue. Last Wednesday evening, a social team named the Otters were taking an awful hammering from Trant, who batted first and smashed 186 from their allotted 16 overs. Then Bryan Pietersen, Kevin’s younger brother, ran in to bowl.
“He took two wickets with his first two balls,” said one stunned Otter, “and he was giving us plenty of stick. Then he had an lbw turned down – not surprisingly, as this is the sort of league where lbws are never given – and he went bananas. He was walking out to square leg with the umpire at the end of each over and explaining the rules. If the game had been competitive, I could have understood it, but we were 17 for four at the time.”
After the way cricket was played in the Pietersens’ back garden, South African sledging must have made Kevin feel right at home.