It’s hard to explain the appeal of cricket, given that a test match can last five days and end in a draw. It’s the sporting equivalent of a story that ends with the revelation that it was all a dream.
The bizarre terminology and eccentric commentary conspire to create the distinct impression that cricket has much in common with the Radio 4 quiz ‘Mornington Crescent’.
This argument is strengthened by the fact that the charisma with which a bowler appeals for ‘LBW’ is a factor in the umpire’s decision. If Franz Kafka had been born in England, ‘The Trial’ might instead have been called ‘The Test Match’.
The commentary is something else. If there was such a thing as a National Institute of Political Correctness, you can be certain that animated discussion would be provoked by Geoffrey Boycott’s fevered suggestions that England ‘bowl South Africa a Chinaman or two’.
Here are some gems from a guy called Aggers –
We’re into the last twenty minutes before LUNCHEON.
Lovely day for the beach! My sister just texted me to tell me she’s taking her two boys to the beach. Well, they live in Essex, very good cricket beaches.
Obviously started in Mexico, didn’t it? The Mexican Wave?
I had intended to make a few up, but when the observation was made that the ball was Fingered by Sidebottom to Leg Gully I realised satirising cricket is like bathing a goldfish. What can I say? I like cricket. It’s quaint, it’s hypnotic, and it’s surreal.