Post Lunch Weariness

Wickman would never be the one to cast the first stone, being, as he is, a great sinner. We've all experienced that post-lunch lull from time to time at the cricket. Normally, Wickman has to say, shortly before tea. In Wickman's defence it is usually just a cat nap to prepare his agile mind and drinking glands for a new assault on a bottle of Chateau Urine du Chat or even a couple of pints of Wife Beater. This cove, Wickman's neighbour at the cricket, hit a slump in form unusually early. Whether this was something to do with England only managing 20 runs in the first hour or just due to the advancing demands of age, this fella who bears a striking resemblance to a young Clement Freud, checked out the inside of his eyelids at round about 11.30am before the advent of the champagne. Oh dear...