Dear Mr Cricket Australia...

Click to read the small print

Dear Mr Cricket Australia,

I am writing to apply to the position of ‘Bowling Coach’ as advertised on the internet somewhere at some stage during the last few weeks. I believe I am well suited for this position due to my experience and passion for cricket, particularly in dealing with the development of more effective bowling techniques.

I have a clear understanding of the technical aspects of each variation of bowling style. I have been an avid student of Channel 9’s Wide World of Sports from an early age (and more recently, Fox Sports 1, 2 and 3 when I am at my brother’s house) which has granted me access to slow-motion cameras and improved technological advances such as Hawkeye, as well as expert opinions from former cricket players, journalists and Mark Nicholas on the art of bowling.

I have a strong understanding of the tactics involved in cricket (Test cricket, ODI and T20 forms) moreso than our former captain, Mr Ricky Fucking Ponting. I have watched first-hand as Australia’s recent tactics of allowing opposing teams to hit as many runs as they deem necessary have failed to win many games, and believe that there are better options available.

Whilst in attendance at a recent ODI match, I had the bright idea that the Australian bowlers could “ping the ball at the three sticks at the other end” and for the next eight overs, yelled out this exact message after each ball was delivered shorter and wider than the last. After those eight overs, during which Australia’s bowlers induced the number nine batsman into hitting several boundaries, the crowd around me declared me a genius tactician, however drunk I was, and many began yelling their own advice to the Australian team. It soon became clear that my voice was beginning to fail me, as I had been offering advice to the Australian team since the beginning of the game, and I was grateful to have this support, as my passion has been recorded as “drunken, rambling and incessant abuse” in the past by several members of the constabulary.

My ability to develop individual player plans are second-to-none, a skill which can be verified by my neighbours, who have complained to the police on several occasions due to my loud vocalisations while watching cricket. I was the first to advise Ricky Ponting to retire (in about 1994, I believe), and have worked out flaws within the batting of new captain Michael Clarke, previous captain Ricky Ponting and newcomer Steve Smith, which mainly involves landing the ball in the general vicinity of the pitch. This is the same plan that Shane Warne used to dismiss Darryl Cullinan during the 1990s.

The current Australian attitude to bowling tactics relies heavily on the Skeletor Principle. The Skeletor Principle (as you know) is based on the villain in the He-Man cartoons, who would invent a magical weapon, and through the use of said magical weapon, have He-Man and his allies tied up and powerless, only to have Orko break free from a non-guarded, non-secured jail cell, free the heroes and thwart Skeletor’s evil plan. While this attempt at defeating the most powerful man in the universe was deemed a “failure” by Skeletor and never spoken of again, the plan had potential to succeed at a later time during a future skirmish. If Skeletor were to repeat his scheme, but alter it slightly, such as introducing Mer-Man (or a second gully fieldsman) to ensure Orko did not escape, I believe success would follow quickly.

Recognising weaknesses within opposition batsmen has been difficult to ascertain recently, although it seems that they are able to play wide half-volleys and short legside deliveries without concern. If successful with this application, I would focus on improving the accuracy of our bowlers with a one-point plan, which would incidentally save Cricket Australia about $800,000 per year. It’s a plan that I have named “Operation: Drop Mitchell Johnson” which is a title that I think explains the crux of my idea fairly succinctly. I am prepared to go through the plan with Mitchell several times, as I understand he is originally from Queensland. I will also explain it to Ian Chappell if necessary.

I have used my knowledge of bowling mechanics in practice, and have played under a range of conditions to test my bowling theories. My first foray into bowling began as a child when, armed with a tennis ball covered in gaffa-tape, my brother and I would play epic cricket contests in our driveway, using the unpredictable swing, bounce and seam movement to our advantage. This is also the time that I perfected my “bean ball”, which uses the element of surprise, pace and a wicket that is at least three times the height of the current stumps. The bean ball should be released whilst aiming for the batsman’s head, and when done correctly, will hit them in the forehead/bridge of the nose on the full. The next delivery will be the same, but should have the batsman ducking, therefore exposing his stumps and losing his wicket. Should the batsman counter this tactic with a hook shot, it was the bowler’s duty to climb onto the roof (including neighbour’s roof, if accessible) to retrieve the ball and to “stop bowling like a fuckwit.” It is evolutionary tactics of the game of cricket such as these that keep bowlers’ minds fresh, and also why I can climb walls like Spider-man.

As were the rules of driveway cricket, each over had to be bowled in a different style, and since there were only two of us playing, this necessitated learning new deliveries. Over the years, I was able to incorporate bowling aspects from Merv Hughes’ run up, Damien Fleming’s outswinger and Glenn McGrath’s stump-to-stump, while later preferring the subtlety of Tim May’s arm ball, the Colin Miller mix-up and Steve Waugh’s slow-ball.

It was during an over of unleashing Shane Warne’s armoury on my brother that I discovered that I could bowl a googly with good accuracy and flight; a delivery which bamboozled him for three balls, until he realised that he could easily predict the spin of my ‘leggies’, as I was not able to get the ball to turn the other way. It still looks good though, and spins a fair way.

I used these tricks of the trade whilst playing several seasons of indoor cricket, and succeeded in perfecting what has been described as “gentle outswingers that are shit enough to get a wicket”. I then discovered that by bowling with the shiny side facing the other way, I could bowl “gentle inswingers that are shit enough to get a wicket”. I believe the term for an inswinger has been changed by Cricket Australia to “reverse swing”, but the concept of the ball moving through the air remains the same. I will also explain this to Ian Chappell, using diagrams if required.

I have outstanding leadership qualities, although I understand that Cricket Australia does not require anyone within their organisation to possess such skills. I am also able to utilise networks, as evidenced by a recent pub-crawl in which I was part of seven different shouts (twice) before I had to purchase a single beer. This indicates that I am able to exploit many people at once (while drinking); a skill that being the coach for any national sporting team should possess. Networking is important, especially when you’ve forgotten your wallet.

I have the ability to develop strong relationships with players, and look forward to forging a strong bond with a certain Mike Hussey. I would also enjoy the opportunity to work closely with Clarke and Ponting, as it has proven quite difficult to ensure that they are the ones who are eating the breakfast cereal laced with shards of broken glass and rat poison that I send them. I would also like to be present when I relieve Shane Watson of his recently-appointed vice captaincy role; I believe he would cry and it has been a dream of mine to see him sook like a bitch in public. I also think his missus is hot, and wouldn’t mind “meeting” her during a team function.*

*I want to have sex with her

I am willing to travel and work full-time with the Aussie lads (after the funerals of Clarke and Ponting and the ensuing coronial inquest of course), as their hectic cricketing schedule lately seems to be to sit around and enjoy a few beers while waiting for the next pay cheque to roll in. Seeing as it’s going to get what meteorologists are calling “a bit fucking nippy” in Canberra pretty soon, I welcome the opportunity to spend the winter under the Caribbean summer sun, or wherever the hell we’re going next. I would also enjoy the opportunity to visit the sub-continent and talk to local experts about bowling in difficult conditions, and how the modern game has made it so much harder to cheat.

I would work around the clock with the Australian bowlers to ensure that their fitness levels are peak, injury levels are down, and Twittering accounts are up-to-date. I have recently passed fifty tweets and still don’t really understand what it’s for.

I look forward to discussing my bowling philosophy of “we’re not here to fuck spiders” with you. I believe its ancient and mystical (and amusing) overtones will inspire the Australian bowlers (except for Hilfy; I think he needs to be put out to pasture, just quietly) and get this once-formidable sporting team performing back to its great potential.

I am willing to accept as little as $80,000 per annum (and a case of beer each week, plus my rego just for another six months) for this role. I figure this is roughly a quarter of what you would normally pay someone to undertake such a prestigious position, but I am willing to take this salary so you can afford some better players.

Regards,

Mister Evil Breakfast