I don’t like cricket.

I don’t like cricket. I love it.

Well, I can tell you that I certainly didn’t write this song. As I sit here, relaxing on a Sunday evening, pondering the week ahead, my husband is glued to the television. He is watching cricket. Not even cricket involving his national team. Just any old cricket.

I will never understand it. Total mental block. He often offers to explain the game to me but all I hear is “blah, blah, wicket, blah”.  I suppose that part of this ignorance is down to me being from a country that doesn’t really get involved in all things cricket. Scotland. We only really do pub sports.  I wasn’t brought up with it at all.

When my husband was made redundant at the end of 2010, he spent a lot of time watching this sport. In fact, he claims that he watched every game of the World Cup. Ask him what was the highlight of his extended period at home and he’ll tell you about his favourite match. (His first child was born in this period too, but hey….)

I have been dragged along to a few matches. (Is match even the correct term? I don’t know). I’ve been to The Oval and also to some rather posh seats at Lords. At the latter, I was more interested in what sort of picnics those around me were eating.  I love a picnic.  And marvelling at the fact that the clientele are generally of a class that are permitted to drink alcohol during the game (match?) without breaking out into fights.

It’s a civilised affair, I’ll give you that. A couple next to us at Lords had not only a picnic basket but a 3 course meal inside, including dessert wine! Now, that showed up our cheese sarnies and Monster Munch.  This impressed me.

I do admire the Barmy Army, England’s most loyal fans and I do accept that the costumes and humour are very amusing.  I’m partial to a Mexican Wave.

But when my husband excitedly shouts at me….”LOOK! Kieron Pollard is in!!”, I have no idea what is going on.

I don’t mind a 20/20 game, largely because it’s quick and someone actually wins.  And you get those bits of cardboard to wave around, with “6” or “4” written on them, or if you are really lucky a giant foam hand.

Even my best friend likes and understands it. But, she’s an Aussie and they win stuff, so we’ll let her off.

Husband keeps asking me if I’d like to go to the Caribbean to watch cricket. Now, I know that I would actually have to go and watch a match (game?), but if it’s in the Caribbean then I am all for it. I only wonder what I could have in my picnic? Pass me the rum.

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One Comment on “I don’t like cricket.”

  1. […] 7) Assorted Caribbean seasonings (He has been watching too much sodding West Indies cricket) […]


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