Trainspotting

Fantasy Bob has noticed reports that Danny Boyle is going to revisit Trainspotting and make a sequel, or a prequel, or something.

While there is still controversy as to whether the film ended up a bit too much of a romantic celebration of hard drug users in Edinburgh, FB understands that the new film will take a different line.  It will above all correct the original's unaccountable decision to ignore the importance of cricket.  

One of the most memorable scenes in Trainspotting was the opening monologue recited by Ewan McGregor over a sequence of him being chased through the centre of Edinburgh.  Test Match Quality.

But the new film promises even more.  FB has seen the script and, with apologies for the strong language that was also a feature of the original, shares it with his world wide readership here.  It seems to him to offer a better option than the focus heroin featured in the previous version.

Choose Life. 

Choose middle and leg. 

Choose a bat. Choose a big f****** Gray Nicolls Scoop with thick f****** edges. Choose the front foot, choose the back foot. Choose that swing through the f****** line of the ball. Choose the ball smacking the boundary before the fielder f****** moves.  Choose the as-good-as-Viv-Richards-that-was moment.  Choose the inside edge onto the pad.  Chose the idiot umpire who doesn't see or hear it.  Choose the finger raised.  Choose a look of stunned f ****** disbelief. Choose the trudge back to the pavilion and slamming the  f****** dressing room door shut.   

Choose right arm over.  Choose left arm round. Choose the flipper, choose the top spinner, choose the doosra, choose the quicker one.  Choose the inswinger, choose the leg cutter.  Choose any f****** thing since it's a mystery what happens once it leaves your hand.  Choose the green top, choose the dusty road.  Choose downhill choose down wind.  Choose the stumps knocked over, choose the LBW, choose the hattrick ball.  Choose the high fives.  Choose 'good for another one?' 'yes, skip f****** yes'. Choose the  f****** keeper putting down the easiest of chances off you for the   umpteenth f****** time this f****** season. Choose the four, choose another four, choose the six back over your head.  Choose 'that'll do for now have a rest'.   Choose the 0 for 60.  Choose a lonely afternoon at deep fine leg. 

Choose first slip, choose mid on, choose deep extra cover.  Choose the snick, choose the top edge high in the sky, choose the mis-timed drive.   Choose the dive, choose the jump, choose the swirling run under the steepling.  Choose the ball sticking in the hand.  Choose the bellow of howzat.  Choose the next ball. Choose the clumsy sprawl, choose spilling the f****** dolly catch. Choose the silence as appeals stick in the throat.  Choose avoiding the bowler's eye for the next 2 hours.

Choose the 4th XI.  Choose wondering whether your back will last for another over.  Choose 4 sweaters in mid summer. Choose the rain.  Choose the wind.  Choose the five minutes of sunshine per year. Choose a hole in your boot and the dilemma of whether it is worth getting a new pair.  Choose wondering in August whether you've played your last.  Choose turning up in February at indoor nets for one more season.  Choose thinking that this year that f****** ton will surely come.

Choose a sandwich. Choose another. Choose a big f****** piece of chocolate cake with a cup of tea and a seat at last.

Choose cricket.  

Choose life.