Trott’s final letter

August 8, 2012 § Leave a comment

Dear cousin Bert

Howzit bru? How’s the bear shooting season going man? Bagged yourself any big guys this time? Cor I miss being back there with you.

It’s all kicked off here. You may have read about Kiv. He’s been acting real weird man.

He came in the other day and started to read out some parts of his book which he’s been writing. Some of the other guys didn’t like this. One of them told him to shut up. Kiv lost it man. Started to kick things. He went off into the men’s toilet. We could hear him shouting on the phone really loud.

Then he called us all ugly. And he said we’re all jealous. Poor Cooky man he couldn’t take it. He started to cry. Swanny said to Kiv

“Are you happy now Kevin. You wanted to make him cry. Well you’ve succeeded!”

All the other players mumbled in agreement. Then Kevin said

“Fuck you all, I don’t need you. I mean do you really think you are bigger than KP?”

And he jumps up on his feet, puts this green Saffer cap on and walks off into the other dressing room. Ten minutes later he comes back and locks himself in the toilet, angrier than iver.

And then he starts to smash things up. He was going around like a wild bull rhino headbutting everything. I tried to stop him and said to him

“What are you doing bru? Stop it man.”

But he just turned to me and said:

“Listen my little rounded-headed moonfaced crispy nostriled friend….I, not you, I, only I AM K P!”

And then he starts hurling things around like a mountain gorilla beating his arms into his chest. Well I don’t know! Tim Bresnan got so scared that he jumped right off the balcony. Broke all his feet.

I thought things had calmed down but a few hours later Kiv starts trying to burn Straussy’s bat. We also found that he’d hidden a lot of the boys’ whites inside the toilet.

It all ended after Broady walked in and asked what was going on. And then Mr Flower came round with his book of data and asked us what was going on. And then there were all these journos and TV guys came around to ask what’s up.

Cor its so stressful Bert.

I miss you bru. And I miss all the old boys– Fanie, Pommie, Biddie, Jorgs, Uwe-Karl, Tertius, Rabian, Cidric, Crispy, the Coetze Brothers, Chubby, Flooi, Johan, Adolfo, Birnger and Pim.

I wish I was back there now, playing cricket with the lads. D’you remember how we used to get into trouble with Mr Smuts for hitting the ball into this back garden? That time when he chased us with a shotgun and shot Pimmie Bundeke in the back? Good times man.

Anyway I’ll see you just now

Love

Trotty

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