

He was partnered in this cracking by the legendary Mahela Jayawardene, who was heard on the stump mics remarking accurately that the whole thing was “crap”.Īfter the dust settled, the cold transparency of the replay confirmed the moment for what it was: an unaccountable balls-up the kind for which 25th year public servants are renowned.Īnd to make it worse, once the thing was rebooted and operational, an opportunity for equal footing was dismissed.
#Storm in a teacup bloopers cracked#
Like a man suspecting of his own Candid Camera punking, an already-crazed Prasad assumed the fluid was being taken and naturally cracked it. In a further bizarre turn of events, abstruse skipper Lahiru Thirimanne was apparently already hip to the Reject Shop electronics on hand, and he confirmed the bombshell to the flustered quick in the middle of the team going mental. The bad news was confirmed mid-chaos with Walker’s whisper that ‘DRS is down’, an approval of shambles delivered in the kind of low tone usually saved for a suspect who’s hiding under their bed from the Feds. However, it was not to be – unfathomably, the system was on the blink at Prasad’s end of the ground, even despite reinstalling the app and calling IT. Like Prasad, we home viewers acknowledged too that it was a scrapbook clanger, yet relaxed when remembering that we live in heady times flush with innovative smart people unaffiliated with the BCCI.


Sensing the knockback was a monstrosity typical of the role that the review system was born to play, an audit was immediately demanded by a frantic Prasad – a man who’d already given a snap-birth to kittens upon disapproval before dancing down the pitch like a TV evangelist. This daydreaming left him without evidence to arbitrate the elementary claim, so he played it safe with a negatory based on the doubt surrounding exactly which stump the bullseye-tracker was going to snap clean in half.
