Kevin: the return
October 31, 2012 § Leave a comment
I have been out in the wilderness.
For 200 days and nights I roamed. But now I am returned. And I am a different man. Like a great leader who walked in the desert for a number of years I am now reborn. This is my second coming.
It’s true that I have hated many in my time. Mandela, Smith, Straussy, Flower, Botham, Strauss. The list is a long one. Some of these men crossed me. Some of them were just evil. Some of them said they were only doing their jobs.
But it is time to let bygones be bygones. I was wrong. Yes. I said it. I KEVIN ROGER SEAN TIMOTHY PIETERSEN was wrong. I want to shout it out from the rafters. I want to write it in the sky. I was wrong. I was wrong world.
Yes I am man enough to admit it. It’s something I should have done a long time ago.
I blamed everyone for my faults. My team, the players, the board, my coaches, my parents, men with beards, my dog Toby, my agent for convincing me to do the Youtube confessional, Ryan Gosling for the jacket incident etc etc. Everyone except myself.
You see like James Dean I’ve always been an outsider. I’ve battled my inner demons all my life. It comes with the territory I suppose. What God gives with one hand he takes away with another.
Now it’s time to stop!
Look at the trouble I caused. Andrew Straussy retired! We lost the T20 cup in the second round. Sachin Tendulkar’s hair turned ginger. All cos I didn’t give my all for the team and was dropped.
But yes I have made a mistake. I wish to hold my hand up and say I’m sorry. Infact I will hold both my hands up and say I am sorry. For I am man enough, big enough, wise enough and now knowledgeable enough to admit that I have made a mistake. I was wrong. I was bad man. I bordered on mad man. Insane. Psychotic. A monster.
Practical tips to beat depression
What’s changed Kevin you ask? It’s taken a long time, a huge amount of soul searching, of fighting my inner demons, of finding somewhere I can be at peace with myself to get here. But I’ve learnt about compassion. I’ve learnt that giving is the greatest good. It’s not come easily. I’ll admit it.
For I tried it all. Yoga, meditation, talking. But let me be a little more detailed.
My first step was to check into a rehab clinic. So I went to Betty Ford and spent the night there. That was a hard place. A building full of broken down celebrities desperately crying for better times. My room was next to Angus Deayton who used to present Have I got News For You ten years ago. I used to wake up in the dead of night to the sound of screaming.
“I want to be in showbusiness get me out of here.”
Eventually I got so scared that in a moment of madness I locked myself in and swallowed the key. It took a full two days to get ME out of there. That was agony.
I then went to find religion and travelled to Rusell Brand’s meditation centre in the midlands. I had heard about this as long ago as 2011, heard about the power he wields, his genius, how he became famous for doing nothing like a modern day Rasputin. There I learnt a hymn which I sometimes sing to myself. It is below, with translation:
“Om Shanti Om—Our father who art in heaven
Om Shanti Om—halloed be thy name
Om Shanti Om—forgive us this day our
Hare Rama Hare Rama Hare Rama—as we forgive our tresspasses against us. Thanks.”
Unfortunately it wasn’t for me. One day Brand himself turned up to give a sermon. He said the only sure way to nirvana was to lose the ego. He pointed to various objects and said they were happy because they had no ego. The table leg, it has no ego. It is happy because it is a table leg. Then he started to hump the table leg. “It will not say no, it will never say no,” he was screaming, “lego no ego, lego no ego.”
After that he had sex with all the females. They were all screaming take me Russel, take me and he was laughing at them like a maniac. Laughing until his sides split.
In the face of this overwhelming ego fest I gradually started to lose my grip on reality. I felt my own ego slipping away. I didn’t know where I was, what I was doing. I was falling, falling into the jaws of infinity. I was letting go. In desperation I turned to therapy. It’s true! I’m big enough to admit it. I battled my inner demons for so long that I had to do it.
I found a small practice in Harley Street run by a Jewish guy called Dr Habanero. Seven days and seven nights I sat there talking, talking, talking. It was such a release. I told him everything. From my earliest childhood memories dancing infront of the telly in my whites, to the day I got my first hundred batting against our cook Mali in the back garden.
In all that time that doctor never said one word. He was so compassionate.
And at the end I had to ask him.
“Doctor,” I said. “You have helped me so much I can’t thank you enough. But in all that time you haven’t said even one word.”
He looked at me, gazed deep into my eyes and then replied.
“No hablo ingles.”
So things are different now. It’s all changed. I used to call myself KP! Now I call myself quite simply Kev. I’ve learnt to walk in the shade. I’ve learnt to eat unleavened bread. I’ve learnt that life isn’t all about me.
Yes God works in mysterious ways. Even us sinners get another chance. Even us flawed….men, humble men, get one more shot to shine on the world stage. And I intend to use it.
Yes I am back. They tell me there is no I in team. Nor is there a K P. Now there is simply a: Kev.