In the style of a national newspaper columnist

The prime minister is a godawful cricketer, and the way you can tell is that he’s trying to show technique when just moving your feet and whacking the fucker would do far better.

His head isn’t over the ball, his eyes aren’t on the ball, he’s forward while playing a back foot stroke, his gate is a mile wide. If he wasn’t trying to look like a cricketer, he could just have watched it and hoicked it over midwicket, but that’s not our man.

He’s stopped wearing the shiny shoes, but he’s wearing black trousers and a navy blue shirt on an Indian cricket oval in the southern summer. Jesus, what a mess.

Compare the man who would be king.

Boris Johnson is fat, ungainly, but he actually moves to the length. He’s taken a step out of the line, but he seems to be in the West Indies, and nobody told Viv Richards off for hitting to leg too much. He looks a bit like a baseball hitter, but if he gets a hit in the sweet spot it’s going for the boundary, and he’s watching the ball like a hawk.

And most of all, he looks like he likes being a human. Cameron looks like the Onion joke about Mitt Romney turning into a dollar bill, or rather he looks like a small bank playing a man on TV.

That said, Johnson the cricketer looks like the classic hooker – two men behind deep-square leg, guvnor, and we’ll bounce him out. He’s more than likely to hole out embarrassingly down to cow corner, or else swirling up over the stumps for the wicketkeeper.

Cameron will be out bowled or lbw, due to his terrible moves, Johnson will be caught in the deep due to his lack of judgment.

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