Harmy get your gun

In which a former England hero takes recourse to violence

Some newspapers have described Steve Harmison as "fuming" at his omission from England's winter squads and we can only think that a rogue adjective has escaped from an old Glenn McGrath article. Harmison doesn't fume. He rolls his eyes and looks a bit tired. Occasionally he looks tetchy or irritable, but we can't really recall ever seeing him fuming.
Harmison previously said that he would retire from international cricket if he wasn't selected in England's winter squads. "He didn't mention that to me at all, but obviously that opportunity is there for him," said England's national selector, Geoff Miller.
You'd think that "opportunity" was always available, which makes it seem like less an opportunity and more an order - perhaps one backed up by a vague threat of physical violence. We've an image of Geoff Miller silhouetted in a doorway, flanked by ECB henchmen. He walks in, hands Harmison a loaded revolver and says: "Go on, do the decent thing. You know it's the right decision."
One of Miller's shadowy companions looms over Steve and nods menacingly. He takes the toothpick he's been chewing out of his mouth and says: "Take a hint, Steve. You've outlived your usefulness. We've got Graham Onions now." The other heavy seems almost unaware of what's going on. He busies himself pencilling a couple more England one-dayers into a fixture list he happens to be carrying.
"But Graham Onions is a slingy bowler with a fast arm," protests Harmison. "You need someone who produces steepling bounce and who's capable of getting up around 90mph." "Don't tell us what we need," snaps Miller. "We've decided it's time to move on. We want a wicket-to-wicket bowler." There's a pregnant pause and Miller again points at the revolver. "Maybe it's time for you to move on too."
However, it seems that Harmison ignores these threats. It seems unlikely that he would play the part of the weary hero who doesn't like being pushed around - the kind of character who'd take the gun and turn it on his foes. More likely he's the oblivious Inspector-Clouseau type.
Harmison takes the gun, but it goes off at the wrong moment and he shoots James Anderson in the arse via a ricochet.
"Curses!" yells Miller, before adding. "Fancy opening the bowling next week?"