Throughout my adult life I have found that I have a talent
for mediation. Fence-sitting is such an
innate talent of mine that my anus has become the exact size as the average
fence post. As such, a friend recommended that I became a sports referee.
As you’ve probably gathered from my previous posts in this
A-Z, I’m not really the sporty type. Most referees do a lot of running, which
didn’t really suit my physique. I was tempted to become a boxing referee, but
after watching several YouTube videos of boxing referees getting knocked out by
stray punches, I figured I would be safer sticking to a sport with less
contact. That’s why I decided to become
a cricket referee.
Cricket referees have a very special title. They are called “umpires”, which I assumed to
be some sort of special vampire. On my
first match, when someone was bowled out, I immediately jumped on the batsman
and started sucking on his neck. After
giving him a hickey so large it could be seen from space, I was politely
informed that umpires aren’t supposed to suck anyone’s blood. This was disappointing because I had bought a
variety of novelty drinking straws to introduce throughout the match.
I vant to adjudicate your cricket match |
It was at this point that I remembered reading something
about umpires and their deadly aversion to sunlight. Not wanting to risk my life, I rescheduled
the match for midnight, but the players had a lot of trouble bowling and
batting in complete darkness. I was told
to call off the match and rearrange for tomorrow afternoon, which I agreed to
as long I could keep every inch of my skin covered. My trenchcoat and sunglasses combo made me
the most stylish umpire the world of cricket had ever seen, even if it did lead
to me being questioned by the police for wearing my cricketing clothes near a
school.
Being an umpire was great fun. Everyone knows that chicks dig umpires,
especially since those Twilight books became popular. Since there wasn’t a lot happening on the
field, I decided I’d try my luck with the ladies in the stands. I can’t say I across a single woman in the crowd,
but that didn’t stop me from strutting around and flexing at every opportunity. I can’t say I got a lot of attention, but at
least I was able to drive Mrs Addman crazy when I came home in my dirty cricket
whites, stood spread eagle in the doorway and shouted “scrub my gusset!” It
made her so horny that she promptly moved out.
When one of the players decided to actually hit the ball, I noticed
that everyone scrambled to pick it up.
Not wanting to be left out, when a ball sailed close to me, I plucked it
out of the air. The players seemed a
little upset by this and chased me out of the stadium, brandishing their
crickets bats in a dangerous manner. I
was upset that I wasn’t able to be a cricket umpire after that, but at least I’ve
learned how to sleep comfortably while hanging upside down.
Almost every umpire I've seen has been wearing a shaded hat. God damn they ARE vampires. They just contain themselves during the game. I don't think they're all that safe either. I've seen a few get hit in the face by balls. Not all of it was stuff I had to pay for either.
ReplyDeleteYou pay to watch umpires get hit in the face with cricket balls? That's an oddly specific fetish you have there.
DeleteKids ruin everything don't they? Can't even umpire properly by a school nowadays. I just want to know if you twinkled in the sunlight. That's how you know you were a true umpire and not the bat boy.
ReplyDeleteReal umpires do NOT glisten in the sunlight. They hang upside down, speak in a weird accent, and wear capes.
DeleteI agree with Mark these Umpires are Vampires or why would everyone want a bat or need to drive stakes into the ground (I think they are called Stumps to avoid suspicion), and you never ever see anyone with mirrors on the pitch or garlic. To me this is all clear proof, I have even heard rumour of a box they all keep their important bits of anatomy in, I bet it's full of soil too . . . . . enough said.
ReplyDeleteIt's the only logical conclusion.
DeleteI don't mean to brag, but I make girls that horny all the time.
ReplyDeleteWe should start a dating school. Although, if no one turns up, we may be forced to breed with each other.
DeleteThere are rules to Cricket?!
ReplyDeleteI know they keep stopping for tea, poor weather, red stains on crotches and other such nonsense, but there are rules of play that need to be adhered to. When play actually occurs...
DeleteI don't know much about cricket but this was a fun read anyway. I love your inventiveness with these posts.
ReplyDeleteYou call it inventiveness, I call it the onset of hysteria.
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