Last weekend saw England put on a brilliant display for the Lords faithful as both the English batting and bowling departments looked impressive against India in the first Npower test. Kevin Pietersen was the man on fire, hitting a double century in the first innings while Matt Prior helped England take an effective lead of 457 in the second innings, with his unshakable 103 runs. For much of the excitement, the ups and downs and the unwavering quality of cricket on public offering, I was left clutching to one harrowing inquisition: “Why don’t I care?”
Is there something genetically wrong with me? If you emerged from the bleary bowels of Bangladesh or India automatically you have a fascination for cricket. However, somehow, the moment the white shirts flock out onto the levelled green and the ball meets the wooden thwack, I feel nothing. This can mean only one thing I am utterly immune to the electricity and vigour of modern-day cricket.
…I find myself drifting into some vague materialistic utopian.
Perhaps you need to maintain a specific threshold of tolerance when watching cricket. I wouldn’t say my attention is that fickle – I stayed awake throughout the whole 165 minutes of The Curious Case of Benjamin Button. But for a competitive sporting match to push on at such a pace, I find myself drifting into some vague materialistic utopia. Funnily enough it doesn’t involve bats whacking balls and hand gestures signalling what is a four, what is a six and what is a duck. Last time I checked it was a white feathery creature that floated on the surface of water.
It may be a slippery challenge trying to watch and engross yourself in test cricket but the sport certainly has its merits. For one thing I appreciate the technical aspects of the game, from the different kind of shots a batsman can employ to the diverse range of tactics exercised by team captains to drop the run rate of the opposing side. Sometimes a captain’s decision to adopt a new play reminds me of the political agendas undertaken by a shady bureaucrat from a Dan Brown tragedy.
…the white attire of test cricket is so 1970s…
Additionally, every time I watch the cricket I can’t help but think the wickets would make great wall frames, the white attire of test cricket is so 1970s and I am intrigued by the mysterious third umpire. Who is he? With all that power and influence why do we never get to see him? He executes some game-changing decisions and at the end of play I am left wondering “Who art thou peculiar stranger?” as he straddles along like some Zorro-type shepherd.
The humility levels of spectators who congregate in their bundles to the games are nothing less then fascinating. For me sport is about energy, tension, the dramatics and the surprise. In a sport like cricket where it takes such hush and vast composure to wait for the aforementioned sporting elements to egress, I can only admire the dedication and loyalty of such fans.
…there’s a good chance I may flutter into some far-distant abyss of my crotchety mind.
You need patience with cricket and as someone informed me, if you’re not an avid fan, you may need more patience then you can possibly muster. Reflecting on the impending test series between England and India I really question whether I could go full circle: India’s tour of England will continue on until 16 September, with three more npower tests (the second beginning on Friday), one T20 match in Manchester and five One Day Internationals. I will try my best to keep in touch with the whole episode but there’s a good chance I may flutter into some far-distant abyss of my crotchety mind.