I am not at all above one-day cricket, one of my most treasured possessions is my videotape of the whole 2nd innings of the second semi-final of Australia vs. South Africa in the 1999 World Cup, with which I have lured more than one unsuspecting (or suspecting, I suspect) male into my salon, and inflicted it on several nonplussed friends as I walked and talked them through the many highlights — Warney’s Gattingesque ball to Herschelle and hyperventilation after 3 quick wickets to bring Australia back into the game and himself back to cricket, the hair-raising last few overs with Reiffel piffing a boundary catch over the rope for a terrible 6, several near-run outs and of course Fleming’s dry-mouth last over and ten-pin underarm strike while Klusener and Donald’s brains exploded like fireworks and Hansie loomed in the back of the South African viewing area like Darth Vader.
What a night THAT was... but this week, Life got in the way of seeing any of the first match on Friday and Work has been pressing ever since, though the latter did mean I was up to see all of the second match out of the corner of my eye.
It’s true there now seems something a bit ungainly about the one-day form: neither the slow-down-your-biorythms-we’re-in-for-the-long-haul commitment of the Test nor the fasten-your-seat-belts-it's-going-to-be-a-bumpy-night hoo-ha of 20/20, it’s not “just right” à la Goldilocks but rather... oh, I don’t know, à la Hamlet. I won’t write it off just yet. I hate doing what everyone else is doing and everything cricket is obviously clouded by post-Ashes loss ennui.
I missed the old SBS panel and seeing the commentators at the ground, and I couldn’t pick the voice of the Australian in the box... a little bit Taylorish, but not.* I loved watching Johnson bat and I am waiting for Hopes to do something splendid so I can pronounce him brutti ma buoni and whip up a batch of the Italian biscuits of the same name. May as well continue a theme.
* It's Nostril Boy Mark Waugh, isn't it?
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Batsy, 'brutti ma buoni' indeed! You don't just educate about cricket (or about how to write an opening paragraph in a single paragraph so the whole rhythm swells and teeters) but about Italian bikkies as well. I call him Wholehearted hopes because he is just such a trier. Doubtless the Hopes antecedents were begging to be first over the top in the trenches of WW1.
ReplyDeleteBut ennui - alas, ennui is me. The Ashes loss knocked my stuffing out and while I don't much like 50 over cricket at the best of times, I am disliking it intensely at the moment.
Unless, of course, it means Batsy keeps blogging.
Errata from one who pressed 'Post Comment' too soon:
ReplyDeleteWholehearted Hopes; both words capitalised.
And an opening paragraph that is a single (fine) sentence, not a single paragraph, of course.
But the comment about the ennui still stands.
Hey MW, I have ever been inclined to an oversized sentence, and if ever a subject deserved it, it is that game.
ReplyDeleteEven the English seem to be experiencing post-Ashes ennui, which is fun to watch, but the pleasure feels a bit forced...
Nostril Boy! Perfect. To be honest I haven't seen enough to be sure, although I thought it sounded a little like the grating tones of Greg Blewett.
ReplyDeleteI see both Dean Jones and Sachin Tendulkar want the 50-over game split into a two-innings affair of 25 (or 20) overs each.
ReplyDeleteAnd if we wait six months for the Twenty20 novelty to wear off - this revamp could kill two birds with one stone.
Like with computer games, once you become familiar with the short game's code, it's time for a new one.
MW: Greg Blewett, could well be... a fellow whose remarks are wholly unremarkable in any case.
ReplyDeleteVictor: Novelty by definition wears off, but does that mean appeal does as well? Or only for the audience T20 is aimed at? Making it poignantly destined to be hoist on its own pétard? Did you know the word pétard is ultimately derived from the French verb péter, "to fart"?
"The French verb"?
ReplyDeletePeter Roebuck has been called many things over the journey, but this takes the cake.
(Seriously, given the French influence on the English language...do we have an unacknowledged problem with our peters?)