Hi! How are you all? I bet you're in some sweet country sipping on an extravagant cocktail, secure in the knowledge that you've served your country to the full extent of your ability. This is all well and good, but there is one problem. I will sum that problem up here:
You are completely bereft of ability in every aspect of life. Your wife agrees.
Okay, maybe that wife comment was a bit harsh. I don't know if you dudes even have wives. Give me a sec, I'll wikipedia it. Okay, sorry to keep you waiting. Apparently Andrew Hilditch (b. May 20, 1956, North Adelaide, South Australia), you are the chairman of selectors. It doesn't mention if you have a wife, so I'll assume you don't. Or that you went to 'select' one, and when faced with a super hot doctor or Shane Watson you chose the latter only to turn up to the chapel and realise he is a man. Now I'm not saying that you're gay or have man-love for Shane Watson. But I'm not ruling it out either. I would hope that the selectors 'bat for both sides' or 'like balls in their hands' or 'like having sex with men' (yes that last euphemism may have been totally uninspired, sorry, hopefully I'll think of another one before I finish this letter and replace it).
So, let's get to the heart of the issue. For some reason, you continue to choose shit-kickers instead of decent players to represent Australia on the cricket field. I'm going to compile a list of basic rules that you should probably try and follow when selecting a squad. I will start here;
Lesson 1: The greater the ability, the greater the player.
At first glance this seems obvious. But you have all continually ignored it. For instance, Shane Watson, David Warner and Nathan Hauritz know how to hold a bat (hold your bat, eh, Andy? Get it?), but I also know how to hold a bat. I gave a bat to this semi-retarded guy in a wheelchair the other day, and he held it (he then proceeded to lick it and insert it in his... well, you don't need to know what happened). And so can you! I have attached a picture of you with a ridiculously oversized bat (either that, or you're ridiculously short... they should put a 20c piece in the picture so we can tell.). It's neither cute nor funny, so I am going to guess it symbolises the size of your ego (and the size of my... actually, I'd prefer you not to know that. I saw how Shane Watson was walking the other day. It did not look comfortable).
Anyway, that brings me to my next lesson:
Lesson 2: Retarded people should not be selected.
I should preface this by saying, I'm no doctorologist, and I've never psychologically profiled any of the players I'm about to mention, but if you have any qualms with the comments, please send said players to my house and I'll give them a check up. Ricky Ponting MUST be at least slightly retarded. I mean, he likes Andrew Symonds for one, and he has unusual jowls. Please get him some plastic surgery, or a more concealing helmet (and make him wear it at press conferences - okay, I haven't thought this through totally, but you're a smart guy, come up with something. It'd be a public service). Do you agree with that, Ricky? How many thumbs up do you give that perspective?
They're not thumbs, dickhead.
Without going into too much detail, I also consider Michael Clarke defective in the brain as well. But let's crack on to my final lesson,
Lesson 3: You're a fuckin' idiot.
Yes, no matter what decision you make, it'll be incorrect. But what happens if I, Rob, agree 100% with your selections? You know, it's like in Terminator II: Judgement Day, when Arnie has to sacrifice himself so his technology can't be harnessed to create Skynet. I'd have to jump into a vat of molten steel. It'd be for the best.
For the record, I know you have a REAL job as a popcorn technician or some shit, so you can't devote much time to selecting. Well FUCK! You get paid to do it, don't you? It's not like your dolling out soup on your own time to homeless, unshaven, smelly, ugly bums who offer you favours for seconds, and you, because you're such a stickler for authority, say no, no seconds for anyone, it's against hostel policy. So if you want to make excuses for picking a fuckshitballs team, then don't accept the bajillions of dollars you get for it. (On this topic, I have a theory that you spend your money on transexual prostitutes, you naughty, naughty boy. Prostitutes with prostates. [Someone smarter than I could do something clever with the similarity between those words]).
So in conclusion, I don't like you and I hope you hurt yourself (nothing bad, just a paper cut or something). I will be tabling a class action against you, so stand by for some sort of paperwork or whatever to get telegrammed to you (or however paperwork is transported these days).
Yours faithfully,
Rob Barone-Nugent
p.s. Good luck to the Australian team in the upcoming Twenty20 finals. Oh wait. You fucking wanker.
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