7 Reasons

Tag: England

  • Pearls of Wisdom

    Pearls of Wisdom

    It’s Sunday.  This is Marc.  I was thinking last week (as I occasionally do) and something occurred to me.  I love writing 7 Reasons.  I also love dictionaries of quotation.  Wouldn’t it be amazing if I combined the two?  The answer was emphatically yes.

     

    I decided to fire up the Randomator (it’s up there at the top of the page where it says “Randomator!”) and harvest a few 7 Reasons quotes on various aspects of life and living.  Here – in the order that I found them – are some 7 Reasons pearls of wisdom on an array of topics.

     

    On sharks:  “In my 27 years, I believe I have sleep-walked only once. And even then it wasn’t a very exciting sleep-walk, I just went looking for the bathroom in the lounge. I couldn’t imagine doing that every night though. Which is what a shark has to do. Apart from it swims instead of walking. And it rarely ends up in my lounge.”

     

    On St Peter: “It is generally accepted that 156,000 people die everyday. That’s about one every 1.8 seconds. I don’t believe that Saint Peter has the stamina to sit there all day every day shouting out names. When does he sleep?”

     

    On Viagra:  “When a man takes one Viagra pill, his penis assumes the shape of the number 1 for a considerable time. Therefore, if a man takes seven Viagra pills, his penis must assume the shape of the number 7 for a considerable time. I’m not sure why anyone would want a 7 shaped penis – unless they wanted to make love to someone round a corner – so it’s probably the wrong number of pills to take.”

     

    On the Dutch: “Dutch people are fantastic.  They’re tall, which is more space-efficient than being fat, and they speak many languages…”

     

    On supermarkets:  “A supermarket is not a place for mankinis and it is certainly not a place for jogging in them. No one wants to see that while deciding what to have for dinner. Apologise. Immediately. And then cover yourself up with a parsnip.”

     

    On measuring time: “I have no idea exactly how long I was in the kitchen, but I do know that I had a ginger beard when I emerged from it.  I had one when I went in too, but I was definitely in there for a very long time.”

     

    On supporting England:  “My heart has sunk so many times I am amazed it’s not lodged somewhere around my groinal area.”

     

    On the pole vault: “…it’s a sport which involves physically exerting yourself until you’re panting and thrusting a long, rigid shaft into a box before you briefly soar heavenward and eventually end up lying sweaty and exhausted on a mattress with a horizontal pole.”

     

    On popemobiles:  “A popemobile is visible from quite a distance.  Even when there isn’t a pope in it.”

     

    On new planets:  “I want a planet that is 100% water. Not ice, water. I want a planet that looks like a sausage. Or, even better, a planet that morphs into a sausage from its 100% water state.”

     

    On Christmas: “When the children burst into our bedroom at six o’clock this morning and jumped up and down on the bed screaming “It’s Christmas, it’s Christmas!” we were very moved. We don’t know whose children they were, or how they got into our house, but we were moved.”

     

    On polar bears:  “If you do insist on dating a polar bear, then you have to understand one thing. You will never be able to use your bath again.”

     

    On flamingo farming:  “With the new flamingo farms, it will be possible to stumble across fields full of pink clusters of gangly birds – all year round.  This will brighten up the landscape no end, especially at sunset.  Countryside campsites will become countryside camp sites where you’ll be able to enjoy the countryside camp sight of intense pink colours in tents (pink coloured).”

     

    On the Sinclair C5:  “Always a bit annoying having to get out of your vehicle and push it up a hill isn’t it? Which is why the Sinclair C5 should have come with a tow rope. Or a map that just showed hills that went down.”

     

    On Annie Lennox:  “Annie Lennox has got a problem. If her heart keeps going boom whenever she walks into an empty room – and it has been at least 25 years since it started – she needs to do one of two things. Go to the doctors or avoid empty rooms.”

     

    On philosophy:  “If a butterfly beats its wings in a forest in China does a tree fall on a deaf person on the other side of the world?”

     

    On the French:  “The French have dainty little feet. It’s a well known fact, in my mind, that they spend 56% of their time in the bathroom moisturising their toes.”

     

    On Foursquare:  “foursquare iPhone App Would Like To Add Your Current Location. Jonathan Lee doesn’t. He is very happy doing some work at home without the whole of foursquare’s Jehovah Witness community knowing where he is.”

     

    On rhymes:  “They say that nothing rhymes with orange, but this doesn’t seem quite right to me:  Nothing rhymes better with puffin.”

     

    On candles:  “There are always candles on the table at dinner parties but no one knows why.  I don’t want to singe my arm hair every time I pour some wine or pass the salt.  Why would you want to put a fire on the table?”

     

    On Nelson:  “Fancy losing a battle to a bloke with one arm and one eye. Do you know how difficult it is steer a ship with one arm and one eye? That’s pretty lame France.”

     

    On parenthood: “There are toys everywhere.  And if you have children, you have to get rid of your toys and replace them with stuffed animals and pushchairs.”

     

    On Turkish barbers: “…a middle-aged man – shaking and hyperactive from far too much strong coffee – holding a cut-throat razor to your jugular and gesticulating wildly, millimetres from your face, while he asks you where you’re going on holiday this year?  Then he sets your ears on fire.”

     

    On ironing:  “There are only so many movements you can make with an iron – assuming you are doing the job properly anyway. Right to left or left to right seem to be the only options. I would love to do top to bottom, but whoever invented bras made it impossible.”

     

     

     

     

  • 7 Reasons To Act Like A Lion (Today)

    7 Reasons To Act Like A Lion (Today)

    I doubt it has escaped your notice, but if it has, let me be the first to tell you that it is now March. Well done us. We made it. And to celebrate I feel it would be appropriate to adhere to the idiom that states, ‘March comes in like a lion and goes out like a lamb’. Or at least the first part of it. I think we can all agree that it would be impractical to go out like a lamb before one has even attempted to come in like a lion. So today, and only today (and all subsequent March 1sts) I urge you to act like a lion. Here’s why:

    1.  Roaring. Everyone has times when they just want to roar in the face of someone. We have held back though because it is not correct etiquette. But what if you were acting like a lion? When a lion gets annoyed he roars or eats you. I have consulted the 7 Reasons lawyers and apparently we could find ourselves in trouble if we advocate – even humorously – Hannibal-style activity. Roaring is fine though. So this is your excuse. If there is someone out there who annoys you, walk up to them quietly and then roar in their face. It doesn’t even matter if you spray a little saliva. That is what lions do.

    2.  No Cooking Required. Lions eat raw meat. I need not explain this further.

    3.  Hair. No doubt someone will comment on this post in the many months to come and tell me that I haven’t done my research and in fact lions take great pride in their appearance. Until that eventuality occurs however, I will categorically state that lions are not in the least bit vein. They are quite happy to let their hair grow long and wild. So today, you don’t need to use that comb. Or that razor. Or that waxing strip. Just let it all hang out.

    4.  Sponsorship. If you don’t tell anyone the reason you are acting like a lion – and they haven’t read this post (a very strong possibility) – you could be in the money. If I see someone wandering around the office acting like a lion, I immediately assume they are doing it for charity. In theory this should probably be my second thought after, ‘what the bloody hell is that person doing in my lounge?’, but anyway, we’ll ignore that. So, if someone offers you 50p, don’t refuse and tell them about 7 Reasons, just take it. I reckon you could earn £20 just by roaring every half hour. Easy money.*

    5.  Economy. I know this is a regular theme in my posts, but it is a serious matter. We must find a way to stimulate the economy. Given that none of you assisted Marc and I in our bid to trick or treat our way out of the recession last year, I can only hope you will finally see sense and help us ‘lion’ our way out of the mess we currently find ourselves in. It’s a novel approach I admit, but desperate times call for innovative thinking. Hire a lion outfit for the day. It’ll only cost you £12 and more than likely keep you warm and snug for a full twenty-four hours. The fancy-dress market will receive a massive boost of £372,000,000 overnight which they can use to increase costume manufacture. Increased costume manufacture means more jobs. More jobs means more people with disposable income. More disposable income means more fancy dress outfit hires. It’s a beautiful circle. So let’s do this. Go to your local fancy-dress shop and hire that outfit. For the love of Britain, please.

    6.  Wales. Today is St. David’s Day in the Principality and what better way to celebrate than by acting like a lion, an animal that features on both the Royal Coat of Arms of England and Scotland? Exactly

    7.  In The Jungle Flash Mob. I’m not a fan of flash mobs especially when I get stuck in the middle of them in Trafalgar Square and end up singing along to Hey Jude, but I do feel a mass flash mob where we are all dressed as lions and perform In The Jungle could be particularly good for the soul. Something like this. Without the animated Hippo and Dog obviously. Or maybe with. TBC.

    Make sure you come back on March 31st to read, ’7 Reasons To Act Like A Lamb’.

    *Just a friendly reminder that our cut is 15%.

     

     

  • 7 Reasons Robert George Dylan Willis MBE Scares Me

    7 Reasons Robert George Dylan Willis MBE Scares Me

    Last week we gave you seven compelling reasons not to watch the Cricket World Cup. How many of you listened to us? Probably not many. And I don’t blame you. I mean, I didn’t even listen to myself. I’ve watched every game so far. But that’s not because I am addicted to the sport, it’s because it constitutes research. It was suggested by Marc that we could write about the Cricket World Cup every Friday. It wasn’t a bad idea – every time we write about cricket we send shockwaves through India. So I agreed. Apart from the dodgy fielding, the one-sided nature of the games and the sparse crowds, the one constant has been former England paceman, Bob Willis. For seven days now he has been sat on the red sofa at Sky Sports scaring the hell out of me. Here’s why:

    Bob Willis Scares Me
    Don’t Let The Smile Fool You. The Real Bob Willis Never Smiles.

    1.  Focus. It’s a frightening sight. When the producer whispers, ‘Camera one Mr Willis’, in Bob’s ear, the robotic state is initiated. His head turns sharply to the camera. Like a Tyrannosaurus Rex who has just spotted his prey, Bob doesn’t even…

    2.  Blink. His eyes are wide as he stares down the camera lens. Deep, deep, deep into your lounge goes his glare. Deep, deep, deep into your soul. And then, his lips begin to move. In his…

    3.  Monotone voice, his monologue begins. His ability to maintain an unwavering pitch for so long is a remarkable feat of endurance. Though for a robotic devil fairly standard I imagine. On and on he drones. No matter whether he is impressed or furious, it’s the same tone. It’s hypnotic in its powers. I know what he’s trying to do. He’s trying to put me to…

    4.  Sleep. He wants my soul. He wants to sell it on eBay. “I must stay awake,” I tell myself. “Bob Willis must not be allowed to submit a fake bid for my soul in oder to bump up the price.” My eyelids are heavy, I try and reach for the remote control but I am not not going to make it. I’m drifting! I’m drifting! Then, suddenly, a saving grace. The shot zooms out. The vision of Robert Croft and Michael Holding is momentary relief. But then I notice the…

    5.  Giant of a man to their right. Bob Willis is huge! He looks like the BFG sitting on that Sky Sports sofa. I know he’s a giant because his knees are higher than his coccyx. He looks comfortable in his own uncomfortableness. This only scares me more. I can’t help but imagine him standing up. His head would be on the second floor. It’s the only time I hunger for a zoomed-in shot of Bob’s face. I don’t hunger for long, the producer adheres to my cries for mercy. Round two begins. He still wants my soul. I’m immediately drawn to his…

    6. Lips. Not in a sexual way. In the way I would watch a goldfish open and close his mouth. And then I actually start listening to what he is saying. And I find myself agreeing with him. Bob is right. You just can’t afford to make that kind of mistake at this level. Oh good gracious me! Bob Willis is making…

    7.  Sense. And this is the scariest thing of all. Already this year I have found myself agreeing with Boycott. What is happening to me? Am I becoming their bitch?

  • 7 Reasons The 2011 ODI Series Between Australia And England Was Really Rather Tiresome

    7 Reasons The 2011 ODI Series Between Australia And England Was Really Rather Tiresome

    At last! It’s over! England’s tour of Australia finally finished yesterday after being emphatically thumped by the antipodeans in the ODI series. What better way to celebrate it then than to analyse the disaster?

    Disappointed Strauss as England lose ODI series 6-1
    Straussy didn’t look very impressed when his twitter update appeared on the big screen

    1.  Predictability. I am just as guilty as you are. When the ODI series started, I thought England might have a chance. You can’t argue with history though and to be frank England didn’t even bother trying. Whoever wins the Ashes loses the ODI series. It is a well established pattern and one we should do well to remember next time. As supporters we waste a lot of energy worrying about defeat, it is much healthier to accept the inevitable before it occurs. I’ll certainly be giving it a go next time.

    2.  Injuries. It seems fairly obvious to me that the more matches there are, the greater the likelihood of picking up an injury. And I mean both mental and physical. In the past few weeks I have switched on the radio seven times to find out the score and each time I have heard a commentator saying it’s been a disappointing performance so far from England. My heart has sunk so many times I am amazed it’s not lodged somewhere around my groinal area. And there’s the physical injuries too. I stubbed my toe walking downstairs to watch the fifth ODI. That just wouldn’t have happened if the ODI series had been over three games. It’s so unnecessary.

    3.  Future Planning. It amazes me how stupid the organisers of cricket at both an International and Domestic level are. The World Cup should be the pinnacle of One-Day cricket. Surely you would want everyone from every nation fit, firing and ready for one of the major events in the sporting calender? Well, obviously not. Thanks to the organisers, we, the viewer, has less than three weeks to adjust our cricket watching body clock. Instead of programming our bodies to be awake from 3am, we now need to be awake from 8am. That’s a five hour shift! The sooner the organisers realise we are not robots, the better.

    4.  Motivation. I’ll be honest, to me it appeared as if it was lacking. Once we had watched England win the Ashes* we seemed to lack the appetite for the rest of the tour. Whether we just wanted sleep or we were bored of playing the same team, our hunger had gone. And that’s not good. Not for us or for cricket. Every single time England play we should be desperate to stay up and watch it. So unexcited was I with the spectacle yesterday, that I made up my own game. The plan was to try and get the previous night’s dishes done before England lost a wicket. I lost. Four times.

    5.  Ponting. Usually, one would be able to take some solace from the fact that, although we lost, at least Ponting didn’t score many. Instead of that, this series we have had to deal with Shane Watson – a player with very limited abilities – twatting our bowlers all over Australia. And if he failed, Mitchell Johnson would do it. Plain silliness.

    6.  Heathrow Jubilation. If the England team had flown home at the end of the Ashes I would probably have made the trip to the airport to receive the thanks from Andrew Strauss and co for my support. Because of this needless ODI series though, half the team are already back. Even though the Urn will make its way through arrivals tomorrow I don’t think I deserve the thanks of Andrews Strauss anymore. I just didn’t show the commitment to these ODIs that I should have done. So I won’t be going.

    7.  It Just Was. I’m even bored writing about it now. It just wasn’t very good was it? And quite frankly, no one cares. Which sums up the point of the series quite beautifully I think. Bring on the Ashes in 2013. And 2013/14. And 2015.

    *Get in!

  • 7 Reasons To Play The Brian Moore Drinking Game This Six Nations

    7 Reasons To Play The Brian Moore Drinking Game This Six Nations

    Brian Moore Drinking Game

    Last week you may remember that Marc and I failed to deliver our regular Friday joint post. In an extraordinary turn of events we have repeated the trick this week as well. But that’s fine, because it gives me a chance to have a look at one of the greatest sporting events in the calender. Tonight sees the start of the 2011 Six Nations in Cardiff, with England taking on the Daffodil Nation. I could give you 7 Reasons to watch the Six Nations but I am pretty sure we covered that last year** and to be honest, not much has changed. You shouldn’t need to rethink it. Instead I am going to take a look at the commentators. And in particular the joy former England hooker Brian Moore will be bringing to the proceedings. With his passionate views, the words of Moore make this Six Nations the perfect opportunity to have a tipple. So here it is, the 7 Reasons Brian Moore Drinking Game.

    1.  Criticism. No matter which country a player is from, if he’s a silly boy, Moore will let everyone know about it. Similarly, if he feels a referee has made a bad decision, we will hear it. So, if Moore labels a player a ‘half-wit’ or brands the decision of the referee as ‘stupid’ you have to drink one finger.

    2.  Scrum. Given that Moore spent most of his career in the middle of one, I think he has the right to harp on about the issues of scrummaging for 80 minutes. And every time he bemoans a collapse, a reset or a wonky feed, you must drink two fingers.

    3.  Football.
    That’s right, every time Moore mentions those nancy boys in that round ball game and their rolling around on the floor antics, it’s time to drink three fingers.

    4.  Passion. Let’s put it like this, Moore is not entirely unbiased. You get the feeling that he’d quite like England to win. And he’s not exactly scared of sharing his passion for the cause. So every time he shows his blatant England bias, drink four fingers.

    5.  Anti-French Sentiments. Being a proper Englishman, Moore quite rightly lacks appreciation for all things French. So when he comes out which such gems as, “Looks like he’s injured…I don’t care though, he’s French,” it’s time to drink five fingers. And cheer.

    6.  Admission. On the very odd occasion that Moore views a replay and admits his initial judgement on proceedings was in fact wrong, you must down the rest of your drink.

    7.  Cut-off. Sometimes Moore can get so worked up about something that his emotions begin to pour out of the speakers. In the past it has led the producer to pulling the plug on Moore’s microphone. Below is the perfect example of what we are looking for. If this happens it is time to refill your glass and down it in one.

    Most of all though, enjoy the tournament! (If you are English).

    *7 Reasons does not condone drinking to extremes, so if you feel yourself getting dizzy before half-time you may stop.

    **I lied. We did not give you 7 Reasons To Watch The Six Nations last year, our guest writer Rachel did. You can read it here.

  • 7 Reasons Reccurring Dreams Are Annoying

    7 Reasons Reccurring Dreams Are Annoying

    I had a dream last night. And the other week. And last month. And the month before that. It’s getting boring now. Annoying even.

    Dreams are like rainbows. Only idiots chase them.

    1.  Repetition. As one may have established a reccurring dream is one that happens time after time after time. I suffer with one. It’s about me, back at school or university, with an impending deadline. The problem is, I haven’t even started doing my work. The scenario usually means I have twenty-four hours to write a dissertation. As dreams go, it is rubbish. I’d be annoyed if it happened once in a year, but to have it once every couple of weeks is just plain tiresome.

    2.  Panic. Despite the fact that it is a dream, I can’t help but get in panic. Though it’s an odd panic. In my dream I am not panicking. Which annoys me for starters, but it’s not half as annoying as the panic I feel in the sleeping me. As if I am watching my dream from above yet I am unable to control any of my actions. I want myself to panic, in much the same way as I want England to play good football. The more I want it though, the more I seem to laugh about the situation. In much the same way as the more I want England to play good football, the more Emile Heskey touches the ball.

    3.  Logic. Or should that be the lack of it. In last nights dream I appeared to be less interested in getting to the library to do my work and instead was solely focused on returning the ‘Automatic Putting Device’ to its home in the shed. No, I have no idea what an ‘Automatic Putting Device’ is either. Nor why it lives in a shed. In real-life I would like to think I would question such a thing, but in my dream state it was as natural to me as scratching my armpit.

    4.  Meaning. What does a reccurring dream about not doing your coursework mean? It’s not as if when I was at school or university I didn’t do my work and get it in on time. Well, not often anyway. So it’s not as if I am re-living my younger days and it’s not a metaphor for my attitude today. If I don’t have any work I can hardly hand it in late can I? It’s baffling.

    5.  People. None of my friends or family ever appear in my reccurring dreams, which seems somewhat ironic seeing as they are the reccurring characters in my life. Instead, I end up being friends with someone from school or university who I have never been friends with in my life. That’s not to say I disliked them, we just didn’t hang around together. In my dream though, we seem to do nothing but hang around together. Hang around together not doing our coursework and taking Automatic Putting Devices to sheds. Hardly the stuff of legend.

    6. Realisation. That moment when I wake up and realise it was all a dream. Again. I curse myself for being unable to dream about something more interesting. Cricket or tea or an opossum. And then I curse myself for not realising during the dream that I was dreaming. Why can’t I just recognise that I have been here before? Why can’t I wake myself up, turn over and think about Dame Edna Everage talking to her opossums? Why? Why can’t I?

    7. Resentment. They say the grass is always greener on the other side. Sometimes, this is ridiculously wide of the mark, but when it comes to me and my dreams, it is as true as the existence of you and me. If there is ever a conversation about dreams, I try and avoid it. I don’t want to listen to their tales of heroism and joviality. I get jealous. Why them? Why not me? Even more frustrating is when I am asked if I had a dream. I can only describe the feeling as one of loneliness and inadequacy. And it keeps me annoyed for the rest of the day.

  • 7 Reasons That Ricky Ponting is the Second Coming of Christ

    7 Reasons That Ricky Ponting is the Second Coming of Christ

    As I was walking yesterday, on the road to Sainsbury’s, a strange and life-changing event occurred.  I strolled past a man carrying a newspaper and, upon the back of that newspaper there was a picture.  An image of Ricky Ponting looking glum.  Christ, I thought, doesn’t that miserable bastard ever look happy? And then, suddenly and without warning, there was a blinding flash of light and a sonorous and divine voice did appear from the sky and say, “Ah look, mate, why do you persecute me?”

    I fell to the floor:  “Who are you,” I stammered meekly.

    “I am Punter, whom you are persecuting,” he replied.  “Now rise and get thee unto the supermarket, and you will be told what you must do.”

    Blimey, that was weird, I thought, and went to the supermarket as I was bidden.  And, to cut a very long story short, in the manner of Saul on the road to Damascus, I, Marc* on the road to Sainsbury’s, had had an epiphany.  I realised that I had been wrong all along about Ricky Ponting and had done him many disservices over the years.  And now I have truly seen the light and it is my divine mission to tell the world of his glory; here are the seven reasons why Punter is the true successor to our lord Jesus Christ.

    Punter as Christ
    Ricky, as he appeared to me on the road to Sainsbury's.

    1.  The Name.  If things look right, and sound right, then they generally are.  And when I tried to think of a way to link the names of Jesus and Ponting, I have to admit, I struggled.  But then I realised that true struggle is the lot of a disciple, and that I’d just have to think harder.  And, lo, I thought harder.  But other than the names Ponting and Christ being interchangeable as profane expletives in my heathen life prior to my conversion, I could find very little to link them.  Then it hit me:  A portmanteau word.  Ricky Ponting is no longer merely Punter the cricket captain.  He now has a divine and biblical-sounding title.  He will henceforth be known as…The Pontychrist.

    Ricky Ponting as Jesus Christ rising angelically from a bible
    Ah, look. It's the Pontychrist!

    2.  Miracles.  Jesus was famed for his making of miracles.  Specifically, for eking out very little, to make a lot.  He turned water into wine, and he fed five-thousand people when equipped with a small quantity of bread and fish; a situation in which a lesser bearded-man – such as Captain Birdseye – merely invented the fish finger.  And, in the manner of Jesus, Ponting (who, though not bearded of face, is bearded of arm), the new saviour, is attempting to win the Ashes with a mere nineteen runs from the first two tests.  And when he pulls it off, it will be hailed as one of the greatest miracles ever seen.  Greater, even, than when he takes a stroll across Sydney Harbour without using the bridge after the fifth test, and greater than when he turns Toohey’s into wine.  Or Beer into a world-beating bowler.

    3.  Serendipity.  This current Ashes series began in almost an exact word-for-word replay of one of Christ’s most famous quotes because Australia opened the bowling in the first test.  And so it was that he, who is without spin, cast the first stone (or ball, as we call them these days).  In fact, like his famous forebear, Ponting tries as much as possible to live a blameless life where lesser men (England) are happy to live a life of spin.  In the grand tradition of divine saviours, The Pontychrist is more spinned against, than spinning.

    4.  The Devil.  There would be no need for the coming of Ponting if it weren’t for the presence of darkness among man.  Who then, is his nemesis, his bête noire, his archfiend, his foe, the Mephistopheles to his Good Shepherd?  It can’t be Andrew Strauss; he’s too nice, he is a mere instrument of the devil.  For Beelzebub himself is cunning, yet is vain, and so gives himself away through his choice of name.  I ask you, what rhymes with horn?  That’s right, many, many, many things but, specifically in this case, Vaughan.  Behold The Antipontychrist!  For though he has now been banished unto the commentary box for the duration of the series – which if the final test ends on day three will have lasted for forty days and forty nights – (which is both biblical and mathematical proof ), he is surely the puppet-master that the righteous Punter does battle against.

    Former England Cricket Captain Michael Vaughan as The Devil
    The name of the beast is The Antipontychrist and his number is 6-0-0 (and he doesn't look very well)

    5.  The Blood of the PontyChrist.  In Christian religions, those arcane churches that we had before the birth of Pontianity, especially in Roman-Catholicism, (where the head of the church will, when Ponting is acknowledged as the second coming, be known as The Puntiff) the blood of Christ is important.  Jesus, we are told, bled for our sins, and so, in the present day, has the Pontychrist.  Here he is bleeding, so that our spirits may be lifted heavenward.  And who amongst us can say that this image of  his selflessness doesn’t fill their heart with joy?

    Punter bleeding from the mouth after being hit by the ball while fielding
    We have redemption through his blood…in accordance with the riches of God's grace.

    Rickey Ponting, Australia Captain, spitting blood after being hit in the face by a ball while fielding
    Yes, this one's just gratuitous.

    6.  Iconography.  And, much like Christ, when so many of his teachings will be open to the whimsical and wilful interpretations of man, many years after he has passed, so the Pontychrist’s visage will be used, in the millennia to come by men warning others to follow his example and to live without sin.  He’s omnipresent, they’ll say, he can see everything that you’re doing, they’ll say.  And they’re right.  In this portent of the future he seems to be staring into your very soul.  And, now that you have seen this picture, you will know, that Ricky can see your every thought and deed.  He will know if you think ill of the French.  He will know when you’re masturbating.  He will know when you’ve eaten Twiglets that you shouldn’t have touched.  He knows everything:  For he is omnipontent.

    Ricky Ponting as Christ on a billboard.
    He can see into your soul, you bad, bad person.

    7.  Reflection.  And later, on reflection at my conversion to Pontianity, I had a moment of doubt, the sort that afflicted people 2000 years ago in Jesus’s time.  I wrote this piece yesterday, but when I woke this morning, I found myself questioning things.  In short, I had a crisis of faith.  I might have taken too much of my flu medication yesterday, I thought.  What if I’d dreamt it?  I’d look a fool.  I’d be mocked and cast asunder by my peers.  I decided that, on reflection, I may have got carried away and resolved to discard what I had written and start afresh with a new piece, after I’d had my breakfast.  And then I saw a sign:

    The image of Ricky Ponting appears on a slice of toast.  He's like Christ.
    It's a sign! (a tasty one, too).

    So, in summary, I’m buying myself a ute and I’m going to fill it with corrugated iron and tambourines and head off to the hills to build the first (of many) Puntecostal churches.  Who’s with me?

    *Henceforth to be known as Parc.

  • 7 Reasons You Should Apologise For Not Walking

    7 Reasons You Should Apologise For Not Walking

    With the whole 7 Reasons team suffering from Ashes fever, it should come as no surprise that we can find inspiration in one of our favourite sporting events. We have to really. Nothing else is happening in our lives at the moment*. Today’s inspiration comes courtesy of Australian batsman, Michael Clarke, who earlier today smacked the cover off the ball, was caught by England’s Bradman* *and then hovered around the pitch for a while before not walking. Later, via twitter, he graciously apologised for not walking. Which got us thinking. Or one of us anyone. Why else should we apologise for not walking? Here are the results:

    7 Reasons You Should Apologise For Not Walking

    1.  The Olympic Racewalk. Whether you decide to run in this event or get a bus, you are going to get disqualified. And that means letting your country down. And possibly wasting £2 if you choose the bus option. It’s disappointing behaviour and can only be rectified with a humbling apology. Unless you don’t get caught. In which case, nice one!

    2.  Stopping. If there is one thing worse than people who walk slowly, it is people who walk slowly and then stop right in front of you without any pre-warning. Idiots. We then have to take evasive action which involves stepping into the road in front of a cement mixer or going into Poundland. For that sense of paralysis we feel when we see horror unfold in front of us, we want an apology. And three rolls of masking tape. Espcially as they’re only a pound. Bargain.

    3.  Library. A place for quiet contemplation. You can’t be a quiet contemplater if you’re running around the library or driving your small motorbike. And it’s also pretty annoying for everyone else who has come in to get out of the rain. When the librarian says, ‘Ssssh!!!’, you shout, ‘SORRY!’.

    4.  Cyclists. This is a pavement. It was designed for walking/parking on. It was not designed for cycling on. There are cycle lanes for that. Or gyms. Get off your bike and apologise. Then get on your bike and ignore some traffic lights.

    5.  The Ozone Layer. If you are within walking distance of your destination, you should be walking. Getting in the car melts icebergs. And polar bears can’t swim for that long. So if you do insist on not walking, I recommend apologising before you set off and saying a small prayer on arrival. It won’t save the polar bear, but it will make you feel better.

    6.  Supermarket. Trolley rage is caused by one of two things. A wonky wheel or some muppet jogging around Tesco in a mankini searching for the cucumbers. A supermarket is not a place for mankinis and it is certainly not a place for jogging in them. No one wants to see that while deciding what to have for dinner. Apologise. Immediately. And then cover yourself up with a parsnip.

    7.  Captives. Historically, if a pirate had captured you – and I don’t mean you personally, you’d probably remember that – it was very bad form to refuse to walk the plank. Not only did pirates have to find another way to get rid of you, but the sharks that had been following for three hours went hungry. The least one should have done is apologise. And then used the plank to make a small desk.

    *This only applies to Marc.***

    **We’re disappointed if you had to read this. To give you a clue though, we’re referring to Alastair Cook.

    ***No it doesn’t. It applies to Jon.****

    ****Stop trying to get me in trouble.*****

    *****I don’t need to try.