Right, first, we see the supposedly athletically challenged Monty Panesar, on cloud nine. Paul Nixon tries to emulate the new Flying Sikh (with all due respect to the real Flying Sikh, Milkha Singh) but fails miserably. 'White men can't jump', they say. Also, this might be because of the "heavy water" within Nixon. As you can see, he is clearly a Chernobyl survivor. His teeth say it all in the above picture. He's like a beacon behind the stumps, guiding the bowlers using his neon glow.
But this guy Nixon, he might be a shit batsman and a radioactive freak, yet is a great motivator. He's utilizing the Indian connection to the maximum, as next on, another player of Indian origin, Ravi Bopara is caught defying gravity, and Nixon seems to be the driving force behind him. The roles have reversed. The Indians are seeking spiritual guidance from the West, and gurus like Nixon are helping us curries levitate. ARGH. I don't find any humor in cricket since Australia lost. Sobs. Goodbye pretty world.
