He hated cricket.
It bored him. The only thing exciting about it was it was a fantastic excuse to sit and get absolutely leathered in the baking sun.
The thwack of a ball being struck was heard and a roar erupted from the crowd. People stood up waving pieces of paper with numbers on just in case the umpire was unaware of how to keep score.
He lifted the can of lager to his lips just as the ball smashed into it, spilling cold beer everywhere.
He hated cricket.
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