On Cricket

Much has been written about this uniquely English institution. There are two types of cricket and they are quite different. In fact, even if you manage to understand one you will be that very feat alone be unable to understand the other. This is the very essence of cricket. There is TEST Cricket which is played by professional teams that travel the world spreading confusion and there is village cricket which plays to the already blissfully confused. Village cricket is best viewed from the terrace of the village pub after copious consumption of the local warm murky beer. Trying to grapple with this very complex subject sober is a mistake. You won't understand the game any better drunk but you won't worry so much about your sanity or general state of mental health. It is very important to approach this subject in slow measured steps, one at a time, and not become too concerned about what makes sense and what doesn't. The overall impression is what counts here and not the constituent parts that go to make it up.

So you have now consumed at least three pints of that luke warm liquid and your mind is in a relaxed and receptive state whilst at the same time having something to cushion itself against any unexpected jolts of illogic or unreality. At the outset a procession of men will walk across the pitch. They are all dressed identically and you have no way of knowing who is on which team. For what it's worth there are supposed to be two teams playing but since neither you nor apparently the players know who is who, I wouldn't let this confuse you just yet. You can, however, identify three individuals straight away. There are two men with bats (sort of squashed baseball bats) and one with a ball. Only one bat is actually needed and the presence of the other is the first thing that shouldn't worry you.

The pitch (that's the grassy area all this is taking place on) has two sets of small poles set in it. There are three poles to a set which are driven into the ground in a line and two further pieces of wood are balanced on top. This is called the wicket. You didn't ask why, did you? Good! This will not be explained as it is of no importance at all. If you feel this starting to worry you, you will need to order another beer quickly before moving on. Next you will notice the considerable distance between the two wickets. A batsman will now position himself in front of one of them and go through a very elaborate lining up ceremony with a gentleman at the other wicket. You may hear them say things like "Off centre" or "Middle leg". Pay no attention to this ceremony as it is completely unconnected with what follows. The man with the ball is called a Bowler although you may be quick to notice that he is not in fact wearing a hat of that name at all. He will position himself at the opposite wicket to the Batsman. When the aligning ceremony is over he will walk away from the wicket rubbing the red ball vigorously against his groin. This is very obviously a sexual manoeuvre and some Bowlers achieve satisfaction before others since the distance they cover doing this varies greatly from Bowler to Bowler. Some manage just a few steps while others take it to the very boundary of the pitch. He will then turn and run towards the wicket. Well, run is probably an overstatement. Jog or trot is closer. As he reaches the wicket he will come to a complete halt before throwing the ball in a long over arm motion towards the furthest wicket. The point of the run eludes me except perhaps he feels he should make up some of the time he took in the rubbing of his groin routine.

The Batsman will bring his bat down in front of the targeted wicket, effectively blocking any attempt to hit it. The ball will strike the bat and roll a few feet away where one of the other players will pick it up and throw it to the Bowler and the whole process repeats itself. The crowd will clap politely and you will order another beer because you feel the excitement may become too much.

There are some variations. Sometimes the batsman will actually strike the ball away and then he and the other batsman jog, or trot (never run) across the pitch and effectively change places. I think this is part of the English sense of fair play so that the other one can have a go. When a batsman has had enough and wants to get a drink he does one of two things. He may strike the ball high into the air so another player can catch it or he moves his bat out of the way of the wicket so the bowler can finally knock it down. The batsman then bows slightly to thank the bowler or the catcher for making possible his departure and he retires to the bar to watch the rest of the game. This continues for the rest of the afternoon until it's mealtime when they all go and have one last drink together before going home.

There is a scoreboard, by the way, and you will probably notice it at the start. Pay no attention to this at all. It is there to confuse foreigners. That is its only purpose. If you watch what is occurring on the pitch you will soon work out that there is absolutely no correlation between this and what is happening on the score board. Number are randomly moved up and down with no apparent reason at all. In fact should you remain for a while after the game you will see that the figures continue to change well after the last player is in the bar and goes on until someone remembers to tell the scorer that the game is over.

By this time you should have consumed about eight pints of beer and have a deep and profound understanding of this game. The only problem is you won't remember it in the morning and so you will have to come back next Saturday to gain more understanding and a weaker liver.

Now, Test cricket works on an entirely different principle. Superficially the game looks similar, in that there are wickets bowlers and batsmen but there the similarity ends. For a start there is no alcohol available to cushion your system and place you in a receptive frame of mind so what follows has to be taken sober and as a result is very alarming and will leave your nerves in shreds. Be warned!

You will notice straight away that the players wear crash helmets and visors. This should give you an inkling as to the change in strategy. Once more the bowler will walk a distance from the wicket, turn and run at great speed toward the wicket where he will use the speed gathered to hurl the ball at about 90 miles per hour towards the batsman. His objective is to strike the man with sufficient force to maim him. Deaths are unusual and probably don't score.

The batsman's perspective is also altered subtly, in that he will try very hard to strike the ball with enough force to allow him to run to the other wicket effectively forcing the other batsman into the firing line. He will offer no attempt to prevent the wicket being struck nor does he care if the ball is caught as this then relieves him of being in the battle zone altogether.

You may also notice that the English team must always lose. I don't know the reason for this but it has always been so. I can not recommend attending a Test cricket match and if you must watch this barbaric display of brutality then it is best viewed on the television after having taken some form of hallucinogenic substance. I find the effect is far less unpleasant that way.