The barmy army, my part in their downfall

The greatest day of my cricket watching life was in August 1999 when we picked grass from the Foster's Oval (as it then was) and were told by a security guard; "Take the bloody lot!".

On that day Eng-a-land were stunned that a team playing with heart and passion could have the audacity to beat the "Mighty mighty England - smell the history!" tm. Since then the team and their fans appear to have regarded any win as proof of their special place in the sun shining upon the empire. They are, of course, not arrogant but the other guys are and this justifies parading to the queen. The barmy army (or perhaps the new recruits) have made attending any game involving Eng-a-land less and less enjoyable and if they will now shut the firk up I will be happy. Cricket is not football, although yesterday's match did function as a World Cup quarter-final.