People say such funny things. I happened to mention to an associate the other day how much I was looking forward to the fourth Ashes Test, and he replied, “Is that still on?”
One tries to be accommodating, of course. To live and let live. To appreciate our manifold differences etcetera. But expressions such as this make the heart despair.
Is it still on? Is it still… Freakin’ … On?!
There’s no accounting for taste – some folks don’t even dip their bikkies in their tea, so what can you do? One must allow for natural variation.
But I’ve even heard the term ‘boring’ bandied about, as if to suggest that ball after ball, over after over, session after session, day after day, match after match, might in some way grow dull or repetitive. This from the very same excitement cravers who’ll pore over word after word, sentence after sentence, page after page, chapter after chapter, book after book – and not for a moment consider themselves to be reviewing familiar territory.
When pressed, they seem to imply that the words, sentences, pages, chapters and volumes are all in large part unique, and that each and every element is a mandatory inclusion to receive the full measure of meaning.
And yet cricket eludes them.
If you happen to have one of these… Persons… in your circle, or God help you, your home, at first there can appear nothing to be done. The Ashes pathogen seems to only infect a select portion of the community, leaving the majority to blithely fritter away their winter evenings in meaningless pursuits such as social interaction, mental stimulation, or even a reasonable night’s sleep.
But can that even be called a life? One weeps at the waste.
And things standing as they do, no less than in the very foothills of history, I would go so far as to say that now is the moment that all those of the faith must bring their non-believers to the light.
Perhaps you scoff. Perhaps you think to yourself, “Would that it were so easy.” Perhaps you even go so far as to look upon the mighty game as a touch hard to sell. And in your hour of weakness, I stand beside you, one who knows keenly the dashed hopes of the cricket-pitcher, as it were.
Like with many of the higher tastes – such as beer and Vegemite – Test cricket first-timers tend to turn up their nose, not yet sufficiently versed in the complexities to appreciate the miracle they’ve been introduced to. In truth, all three can be something of an assault on the senses at first flush. But still, with sufficient application, and the gentle but firm support of their comrades, new tragics are minted every year.
This, right here, is your chance to bring an uninitiated into the fold. Need I remind you just how captivatingly the situation rests?
An away series. Australia 2-1 down with two to play. Michael Clarke with a point to prove. Alastair Cook with a score to settle. Two middle orders as collapsible as a campervan. Mitchell Johnson with a head of steam up. And England’s top-order marauder, Jimmy Anderson, out injured!
Really, it sells itself. Favourites Australia are in an almost impossible position – only once ever has a side come back from 2-1 down to win an Ashes series – and yet, could a side ever have a better shot at making history?
Both teams are stuffed to the gills with players who on their day can make The Don look like a nightwatchman and Michael Holding a trundler – and yet on most days of this series they’ve been more reminiscent of second-graders playing on turf for the very first time.
All hell is on the verge of breaking loose. Clarke looks like if he can get fifty he’ll get 500, but buggered if he can get that fifty. Cook looks like all he wants in this world is to bat for the best part of a week, but be damned if he won’t find another inventive way to lose his wicket first. Ben Stokes looks about this far away from spontaneously combusting. And Moeen Ali could well be the most successful part-timer to ever throw down a pie.
How can one take their eyes off it?
What’s that you say? The series’ll be over before you manage to explain ‘The Don’ let alone ‘nightwatchman’? I’ll be the first to admit that some of the subtleties can take a little time to reach their mark, but that’s no reason to abandon the war effort!
There’s plenty of bigger artillery to be called into service – think of those two ripsnorters from Johnson in the third Test to send Jonny Bairstow and Stokes on their way! A quick replay of that should get people signing up in droves for more of the same.
How about the prospect of David Warner lacing them to all parts à la his equal-fastest Ashes fifty in the second dig at Edgbaston? Or try on the story of the iffy leg-spinner who turned himself into the best batsman in the world. How about ugly duckling Chris Rogers turning into an English-conditions swan? Or young keeper Peter Nevill pouching ’em so sweetly he’s replaced his own mentor? The Aussies are a team of unputdownable stories – and that’s only half the story!
This match in Nottingham is not only set to be the best of the series, it’s a singular opportunity to advance the cause of Ashes avidity throughout the country.
So do what you have to do, my friends, promise what you have to promise, and cajole however you must cajole – but take this chance gifted unto us by the cricketing gods, and set those heretics in your midst in front of the TV.
Let’s turn our bizarre little affliction into an Ashes-watching epidemic.
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