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The England boys doing secret Santa.

It should be illegal to look as good as Titch, Cooky and Jos do in this video *faints*

(Also lolzing at the fact that Cook can’t get the hat over his hair, let alone over the rest of his head :D)

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Joe Root and James Taylor were the the heros as they steered England to a five-wicket victory over Sri Lanka.

Please watch this interview with these wonderfully smiley and giggly boys (who incidentally have been awesome at the old batting malarkey today) and observe the way they look at one another which has required me to douse myself in brain bleach.

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It’s a tragedy of circumstance that’s left our game in tatters, A happening that makes us ask just how much cricket matters. A young man lost so suddenly without a rhyme or reason, How does one accept that Phillip Hughes has played his final season? But with the grief and sadness there’s also cause for celebration, For a life that scaled lofty heights and charmed this sports-mad nation. For a gift that burned so brightly, that was raw and hard to tame, For that cheeky grin, ubiquitous with mention of his name. From early doors they pinned him as a legend in the making, Macksville locals soon lost count of records he was breaking. The whispers grew, the rumours flew, the tales did the rounds, Of a cacky-handed run machine whose talent knew no bounds, A homespun style, an eagle eye, a focus few could rival, The simple traits that paved the way for this country boy’s arrival. Because despite the rural passion that defined him til his last, For Phillip Hughes the path was clear, his cricket die was cast. To Sydney with a bullet he flew straight down the Pacific, Within in a blink, while still a teen, his numbers were prolific. Here was a kid, a prodigy, who had to make his mark, The youngest man in baggy blue since a certain Michael Clarke. The youngest gun to make a ton in a final of the Shield, A bush technique honed on the land found gaps in any field. And as the hundreds piled up, we knew greater things awaited, Sure enough, to Africa, where a champion was created. The story now is folklore in the history of the game, With a pair of tons in Durban, Phillip Hughes had made his name. Cutting, slicing, arrowing, he took South Africa apart, He was 20, he was brilliant, he was playing from the heart. But what goes up, it must come down, a fact each player knows, With the glory and the triumphs come the failures and the lows. Four times he lost his place in his beloved Test match side, Four times he vowed to fight again, and he wouldn’t be denied. Until that fateful day when he would play his final innings, A knock that promised greater things, suggested new beginnings. We were clueless to the scale as the accident unfurled, Had no idea this tragedy would rock the cricket world. But in our darkest moments we cling to things that make life brighter, And the sport has been united by the memory of a fighter. And while the flashy blade and diamond studs could well have fooled a few, There was never any argument, he was country through and through. Because beyond the adulation, past the thrill of Test match battle, There remained a constant yearning, for his home, for Angus cattle. For the undivided love he knew from father and from mother, For that familial connection to one’s sister and their brother. So raise a glass for Phillip Hughes, put out your bat with pride, Let’s salute a little character who took life’s hurdles in his stride. The nation mourns, the cricket stops, but never be in doubt, That somewhere far above us, he’s still sixty-three not out.

Adam Burnett, “63 not out” (via cricket-life)

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It’s hard, in a flash, to let you go It’s hard, in a flash, to let you go When we were young we were told, that we could just be boys and let our dreams unfold And as we grew we lived a sheltered life, a modern life that let us run and play

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But it’s tough when God comes crashing in, to keep your soul at rest, And it’s tough to do this growing up, when delivered such a test But we fight and strive to live the life, that you had hoped to lead And we’re drinking in your honour, even though you’ll never leave us

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Phillip Hughes has been named 13th man for the first @commbank Test, while @michaelclarkeofficial is fit to play. Full team at cricket.com.au #AUSvIND>

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“We must dig in and get through to tea… Rest in peace little brother, see you out in the middle”

Michael Clarke (via caughtandbowled)

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Rest in peace my little brother, I’ll see you out in the middle.

Michael Clarke,

For whom the whole world has developed a newfound respect for the way he’s carried himself and entire nation in the face of a tragedy that will change cricket forever.

(via arealreligiousman)

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Is this what we call the spirit of cricket? From the little girl in Karachi holding a candlelight tribute to masters of the game like Tendulkar, Warne and Lara, showing their grief to the world, the spirit of cricket binds us all together. We feel it in the thrill of a cover drive. Or the taking of a screamer at gully, whether by a 12-year-old boy in Worcester or by Brendon McCullum in Dubai. It is in the brilliant hundred or five-wicket haul, just as significant to the players in a Western Suburbs club game as it is in a Test match. The bonds that lead to cricketers from around the world putting their bats out, that saw people who didn’t even know Phillip lay flowers at the gates of Lord’s, and that brought every cricketing nation on earth to make its own heartfelt tribute. The bonds that saw players old and new rush to his bedside. From wherever they heard the news to say their prayers and farewells. This is what makes our game the greatest game in the world.

Micheal Clarke speaking about why cricket is the best game on earth during his tribute to his beloved ‘little brother’ (via lovingcricket)

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A tribute from Australian Cricket Team captain Michael Clarke to his “little brother”, Phillip Hughes who died playing the nation’s sport – cricket (x)

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I'm not a religious person, but this is so beautiful, and I may not have know Phil Hughes, but reading about the memories that people had with him makes me feel like I knew him somehow. RIP Phillip Hughes, you will never be forgotten

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As he walked towards the heavens gates, he stood there all alone. And turned his face back to the world, and the country he called home. He saw the tear stained faces that spanned Australia wide, For the little bloke from Macksville who tragically had died. He spun to face Saint Peter with his bat and cap in hand, He asked, “please don’t let my family and friends suffer, just help them if you can.” Saint Peter embraced the saddened man and held him strong and true. “They’ll never be alone my son, they’ll forever still have you. Although you had to leave them and that world you did depart. A piece of you forever remains in each of their sad hearts.” As Hughes had turned to enter heaven through the stunning Golden Gate, A voice yelled from the shadows “Come over here now mate.” Bradman stood there grinning with a bat and ball in hand. He put his arm around Phil’s shoulder and said “you’re up to bat young man.”

Ali Stewart, found on Facebook today. (via misssportsmadam)

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"I don’t have a blood brother, but I am very proud to have called Phillip my brother. I am a better man for having known him."

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RIP Phillip Hughes and Happy 26th Birthday. I didn't know you personally but I knew you were amazing on the field and seeing the detestation your passing has caused has shown that you were both an inspiration on and off the field. It is shocking to think that you went out to bat doing one of the things you loved best, thinking that you would be able to come back and celebrate your birthday soon, celebrate getting back into the test squad but you never came back. You were never able to celebrate one more Christmas and it devastates me and thousand others because you were taken too early, too shockingly, too quickly when you had so much life left. So RIP Phil Hughes, because you will live on forever as 63 not out in the memories and spirit of the game. And to Sean Abbott I truly help that one day he will be able to realise that none of this is his fault and it is just a cruel twist of life. Happy Birthday Phillip Joel Hughes, may you continue your innings wherever you are xxx