Almost a complete night's sleep (12.30 - 7.30). But it made no difference; by 11.30 a.m., after an exhausting morning spent watching England v. Sri Lanka on the telly, I was knackered again and went back to sleep till about 5. This is clinical depression, and that is how it works.
Why the hell can't we beat the bloody Sri Lankans? No criticism of them, they're currently sporting the world's No. 1 batsman and the most successful bowler of all time, but watching an interminable 9th wicket stand in which their tail end kept us out for hours did not do much to counteract the encroaching clouds of gloom. I spent so much of my formative years watching England bowlers trundle away without even looking like getting a wicket, and it seems that, after a brief interval of being quite good, we're now back there again. Part of the trouble, of course, is people getting injured all the time. Does any other nation have to cope with quite so many bloody injuries? Fred Trueman never spent quite so much of his time being mauled by physiotherapists. Are they wearing crap kit, or are they simply playing too much cricket? Whatever the answer, I bet money is at the bottom of it. Sod the money-men, sod, sod, sod them.
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