When Great White Sharks patrol the Southern Seas, it's not the quantities of their kills that count, but the certainties. The best and most dangerous predators can go days, even weeks, without feeding. It what happens when they finally scent blood that makes them the creatures they are.
Nope, this isn't from the National Geographic. This is Andrew Miller on Steve Harmison's final spell at the Oval
. Phew. My heart is pounding. My eyes are reeling from the purpleness of it all.
Labels: Ashes, bad cricket writing, Steve Harmison