Brisbane, Day 3

Schmike the Canadian

A friend of mine, Schmike, told me one of the first thing a Canadian boy learns is how to peel off the helmet of a fellow hockey player and use it to hold him up as you punch him under the chin. No point in hitting his head when his helmet is protecting it but the rules say if the player or helmet hits the ice you can no longer fight.

I took Schmike to his first ever cricket game and explained the declaration. He said: "That is for pussies, what I would do is score 1,500 and when I ran out of hitters, walk up to the other captain (Schmike naturally assumed that he would be captain), poke him in the chest and say: "The sissy rules mean that we will run out of time and you get a draw but you know that you could have five goes at hitting and never get close to my score." I would stare at him until he started to speak then walk away because I don't want to hear Mr Loser talk." I thought about Schmike this morning.

Off to the rugby. Today Tessa is Welsh, I am not.