Round 6 Lions v Bombers, Day 2 (2-2 split) - Furious Fires Up & Kebab Kracks

Glorious, piercing, welcome heat. Skies of clarity that allow all cream wearing combatants to dream with comfort and not have to keep one ear out for the pitter patter of precipitation.

Max1 elevated into Bushranger 12, an exercise that reveals communication complications but all is in place my mid afternoon. Unlikely to play but involvement should be of value, a late start will allow normal pre match involvement with the Lions.

Youngest son recently returned from month long tour in China as the chaperone for a group of sixty somethings and learns that among many things - there are cities in the world more populated in Australia, Sando has continued to improve and the arrival of young T Williams is imminent. Enquiries about another M Johnston could also add to the northern procession of talent to the orbit of Planet Schramms.

Slayer release freshly purchased with remainder of Shocking triumph, slipped straight into the slot for the 45 minute drive - pure bliss, Snuff is a stand out. Let your ears be blistered by the sonic assault that is disturbing but deliciously wicked.

All on game day morning in place, Domestic Selector heading off for an overnight on the Blues train - aghast at the thought of another cricket intensive weekend but fondest of wishes for all. World free slurpee day at 7/11 - expected heat should guarantee the melt down of the melted ice machines from teenage hysteria for free sugar based fluids.

Warm up complete at the Planet, quick rinse and dash across town to Windy Hill to observe the Furious and Small Man (freshly waxed fetlocks) who have the run rate in check, the Small Man claims the second pole as he crashes to the ground with the reflex dive that deflects onto the stumps - run out and please replace the divot.

Phone check into central command - triple Lions debacle with Skipper Dick and Panasonic called upon earlier than expected. Fireman grabs a ripper in his left claw at full prone thrust (a new dance move for Mad Dog Ginger in wrangler mode), Myo Kimbo chimes in with a nick to extend his wicket taking streak. Unable to create any further incision before lunch, shade and liquid sought to replenish as the heat kicks in - decision made to inject The Badge after the break. Panasonic departed with cranial spasm (the first of the day) but Jester has locked down - 4/120 at lunch.

Short trip to Jason Moran reserve, cringe as we pass the dead spot before parking in a safe open space. DKP Squad King has rock in mitt delivering the boa constrictor to allow young MJ to settle with his subtle wrist variations. All land well, an early pole the result but unfortunately some ordinary fielding limits the pressure and other opportunities. Should be capable of rapid improvement at a higher level. Not a lot of support in these frightening surrounds, stack this nightmare to the back of the mind young Lions, is does get better.

Back to the Windy Hill arena, Mad Dog Ginger given full description of the fly fishing expedition where no bites for MDG but the floating pelican nearby was enjoying a gobful. Serene and clear thoughts installed as The Badge has delivered first up - nick, juggle, held, yesssss. Another one comes to The Badge in a spell that commanded watchful respect with an ability to deliver a heavy ball.

Kitchen Man with inspired timing gives Kebab an early chance, delivers the break through to start the wickets tumbling 0/76 becomes 6/120 as Vardichin and Kitchen Man change the context of the contest. Fearsome starting to exert an increase on the scoring rate with Skipper Dick as total gets to high hundreds, momentum starting to swing to the Lions.

Furious has the next crack after drinks, stands tall at the top of the mark, visualises the desired bolt of thunder, locks, loads and rumbles in. Nine balls, all done, all finished - game over! Skipper Dick departs just as another century looms, the start of the end as Lions give nothing else as Fearsome quickly followed, tail of woe that starts in the abdomen giving cause for due concern and points handed over - to the visiting team.

No Name cleans up the detritus, a target of 180 is set from 28 overs that may appear not too kind but the solid whacking by Kebab into the off nether regions ensures confusion in the field. Gasbox falls to the old crap, waist high, full toss trick - caught at mid on with far too much choice clouding the senses for efficient execution - 1/61 but chase well on the way. Kebab smacks another boundary to pass 50 again to fall just before the 100 total passed. Slight middle order disruption, Flash Jack to a blinder just as the entourage came rolling down the hill - never mind, Radio and Sarge steer the innings on course with thoughtful placement and timing. Total reached, ten points in the kit.

Barwon Express flogged, lucky saved on the rest. Looking forward to peeling off the maroon polyester armour to clean, wash and get ready to put the maroon polyester armour back on tomorrow. A couple of ice cold beverages soothe the parched throat, mindless movie (Wolverine - cracking battle scene at the end) and all other results absorbed, several of which have been kind creating a logjam in the middle - time to fix our middle. Could this be an omen.