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Wednesday, March 28, 2007

Penguins Stopped Play competition

This competition has finished

We've run a competition here at King Cricket before. Of course we didn't actually have a prize on that occasion. This time we've got five copies of Harry Thompson's book Penguins Stopped Play to give away.

We'll do a proper review of the book when we've finished it, suffice to say that we've only got a chapter to go and we only started it on Sunday. We're sure it's the same for you, but good books last no time and terrible books drag on interminably. The Blind Assassin by Margaret Atwood deserves a special mention here. Worst. Book. Ever. The Booker Prize died the day that won it.

This is a good book. It's about cricket. The blurb's at the bottom.

To win a copy, answer the following question and email us the answer to blueandbrown@bluebottle.com with the subject 'Penguins'.

The author of Penguins Stopped Play, Harry Thompson, opened the batting for his side, The Captain Scott XI. But which Thomson (no P) opened the bowling for Australia alongside Dennis Lillee?

All correct answers will go into the King Cricket fez from where five winners will be plucked, er, let's say next Wednesday - The 4th April - about lunchtime our time. And we're being strict with that deadline, as you can imagine.

In the spirit of a book that's about cricket on all the continents of the world, anyone can enter. These prizes are willing to travel.

Harry Thompson was the inventor and editor of many TV comedy series including Have I Got News For You and Never Mind the Buzzcocks.

But in times of woe or hardship, cricket, and not comedy, was his refuge. Penguins Stopped Play is the story of his bid to organise the most absurd cricket tour in history. With a crack team of under-talented English amateurs, the plan was to circumnavigate the globe, and play cricket on each of its seven continents. Piece of cake.

But when you throw in incompetent airline officials, amorous Argentine Colonels’ wives, cunning Bajan drug dealers, gay Australian waiters, overzealous American anti-terrorist police, idiot Welshmen dressed as Santa Claus, Archbishop Desmond Tutu and whole armies of pitch-invading Antarctic penguins, you quickly arrive at a whole lot more than you bargained for.

It’s the kind of ludicrous enterprise that only a bunch of Englishmen could possibly have wished to carry out. And only an Englishman could have so many eccentric and hilarious anecdotes to tell about it.

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