*Their part-time, floaty off spinner comes on.*
My brain:
Don't do it, nurdle it for a single
Don't do it, nurdle it for a single
Don't do it, nurdle it for a single
Me: *Comes down the track, tries to hit him for 8. Stumped.*
Her: Come over?
Me: I can’t, I’m trying to stabilise a middle order collapse.
Her: I’ve got a free house...
Me: No, seriously love. This 113 isn’t going to chase itself down!