The Cricket World Cup is getting under way very shortly indeed. I am praying to Jesus, Allah, Buddha, all of them hoping that their will be a game as wild as this. That will make all the late nights up losing my mind over Clark throwing away his wicket and Mitchell Johnson spraying his deliveries around like James Dixon's arms on a dance floor, and the subsequent days getting grumpy at little school kiddies, all worth while in the end. Furthermore nothing would make me more happy than South Africa, aka Englands First Eleven crumble again like Vita Wheats.