I read with interest and a certain level of amusement, Comrade Hudson Austin’s “confessions” in a recent issue of this paper.
I personally believes that now that he considers himself nine wickets down and probably waiting on the third umpire’s decision on the tenth wicket, he thinks it’s time to look good before his final departure.
The comrade has always been portrayed as a real hard nut – the ultimate Warlord; it was a terrible day to rub the General the wrong way. Yet, this supreme protector of the Revo was outsmarted by a bunch of fifty cents upstarts!
Sir, wheel & come again. I remember the passion and vehemence in your voice on the afternoon of October 19th, 1983, when you had us cowering in fear as you spat out your decree of the famous “curfoo”, willing to shoot on sight any violators throughout Grenada, Carriacou, and Petite Martinique.
No General, your hollow rantings sound empty to me who lived through the revo in my early thirties. Instead of having an interview with a reporter, you should be on your knees seeking God’s forgiveness; so if the third umpire’s decision is against you, you can still raise your bat to the crowd.