If The Fonz were a cricketer, he’d be a T20 specialist.
He’d open the batting and aim to score only 4’s and 6’s. If he had to run between the wickets, it’d only be when he had time to strut to the other end. Quick singles and 2’s & 3’s, let alone all run 4’s, would be spurned for being too ‘Ralph and Potsy’. And The Fonz would only strut singles off his own nurdles – his batting partners would just have to suck it up like Richie Cunningham whenever he said ‘Ayy’ in turning down their calls.
When fielding, The Fonz would park his Triumph at first slip. He’d take catches with the no fuss approach of the Security Guard at the Adelaide Oval. To be sure, he’d snaffle snicks so nonchalantly, he’d make Mark Waugh look ungainly. While in between, he’d spend time preening himself narcissistically, in preparation for a little Chris Gayle-style flirting in the post match interviews.
If Cosmo Kramer were a cricketer, he’d bowl left arm wristspin.
Utilizing Paul Adams ‘frog in a blender’ action, Kramer would look to bamboozle batsmen more at the point of delivery than with flight and turn. He would especially achieve this whenever he sled in his delivery stride, the way he sled through Jerry’s front door. Though, this would baffle the umpires as much as the batsmen, and they’d wrack their brains over whether to call a no ball.
In the nets, Kramer would spend countless hours developing mystery balls. He’d work on stuff delivered in the middle of back flips, somersaults and pirouettes. He’d also work on releasing the ball from the top of his hand, rather than the palm. But they’d never come out too well, sometimes getting caught in his frizzed up hair; that is, on the days when he didn’t suffer a low-flow shower.
If Bill Murray were an Australian batsmen, he’d come to the crease with us 5 for 59 every Groundhog Day.
Over the years, he’d be on guard for the googlies and slower balls which had dismissed him previously, only to be undone overs later by reverse swing or chin music. Eventually though, he’d get some innings into the 90’s, but every time he did, a blizzard would stop play. He’d then become all morose, slashing in each innings nihilistically, making many, many goldens, but occasionally hitting the first ball for six. Things would become so grim soon after, that he’d just tread on his wickets in the bowlers approach. An abstract phase would follow where he would just blow up gopher holes in the outfield and charge particle beams at ghosts of cricketers past. Happily, he’d then have an epiphany and return to the crease, where he’d now play every ball on its merits. He’d also buy into a spirit of goodwill and share OH&S tips with fielders whom he knew were about to do shoulders sliding into pickets. Then one day, he’d come to the crease, and Australia wouldn’t be 5 for 59, they’d be 5 for 300, and à-la Adam Voges, he’d cash in ‘cos the going was good and make 300. He’d then marry that actress who was also in Four Weddings and a Fox Hunt, and retire to the Nine commentary box, where he’d discuss pizza toppings with Warnie, arguing that cured Punxsutawney Phil goes as well with capricciosa as calabrese. To which, Shane would quip, “Aw Bill, if only your Greenskeeper had been in ‘Happy Gilmour’: it would’ve made an already perfect film even more perfect.”
And to finish on a few succinct ones:
If Graham Kennedy were a batsmen, he’d get hit in the box every other delivery. We’d love it too, because he’d get to pull all them faces.
If John Lennon were a traditionalist, he’d sing, ‘Imagine no short form cricket. It’s easy if you try. No meaty slogs to cow corner. Only textbook defense and cover drives.’
He’d also sing, “All we are saying, is give Night Tests a chance.”
If John Howard were a cricketer, and if that famous clanger of his is anything to go by, he wouldn’t get past a backyard game at a barbie. But then again, ‘Work Choices’ was a bigger clanger than that delivery, so maybe he’d get as far as Mitch Marsh?