ERROL PARKER | Editor-at-large | Contact

EVEN THOUGH THE SEASON HAS just begun to take shape, Frank Barton has run his captain out twice – both times in an unbelievable fashion.

Since tragically throw 43-year-old Ellis McCrutchon under the bus this afternoon, Frank has been casually browsing a handful of travel websites, looking for a place to begin again.

“Basically, I’ve thrown my life in the bin here because it’s just not worth living anymore. Doing it once is bad enough, but two weeks in a row? Fuck me, I’ve gotta [sic] go before they drag me out of bed and shoot me in the street like a communist,” he explained.

“I was thinking somewhere warm, but far away. But not super dangerous. Somewhere like Namibia could be good, but I hear Windhoek is expensive for expats. But they’ve got both footy codes and cricket? What price can you put on that?”

“Then there’s always the Foreign Legion. I wouldn’t mind having a gap year in North Africa, that’d be grouse. But I’m scared of blood and I can’t speak French. Who knows? All I know is that I need to think of something quick before training tomorrow.” he said.

And choose fast he does, because his teammates have something in store for the specky chef de partie if he indeed comes to training on Tuesday. They’re going to flog him.

Asking his wife of three weeks to make sure his footy socks are clean, Club President Alex Catwell said he was going to do the old ‘cricket ball in the sock’ when Frank steps into the changerooms.

“Nobody has brought up the fact that Captain McCrutchon is five-foot-five and a buck twenty, plus he’s about 50. A bloke who’s let himself go that much shouldn’t be running quick singles. Fuck, he scored a quickfire 19 before Frankie ran him out,” explained Catwell.

“But that doesn’t excuse him.”




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