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Disclaimer, I am an inner-city dweller who has been overheard saying things like “I only ever ride bikes made of steel,” and “those are Galaxy hops aren’t they?”
On Thursday 24 January, I went to the first day of the first Test (against Sri Lanka) in Brisbane. Notwithstanding my seething anger at Brisbane being denied the ceremonial cutting of the cake, I was glad to see some long-form cricket at the home of Australian test match wins.
You see, I’ve got young kids, I’ve got a mortgage, I’ve got a job, I’ve got every excuse to not watch live sport in person. The truth is, it’s been a long time, far too long, since I enjoyed a performance (sporting or otherwise) in the flesh.
So having attended the day of the pink ball’s debut in Brisbane, I wanted to pen my thoughts as it was still “raw.”
First thing, 1 pm is a weird time to start a test. I was racing to the ground after doing real work. Unheard of!
Having settled in, I was struck by the people. Live sports!
There are people on the job everywhere at sports grounds. I might not be able to get through to my health insurer, but if I’m slightly puzzled about how to get to Section 64, my word, several efficient young people will be on hand to help.
The last couple of years, my diet of sports consumption has been limited to furtive sessions on the phone and indulgent post-bedtime viewings on the television.
Seeing sport, next to other people, watching the national cricket side. Trifecta.
But something gnawed at me. In a world of UX (user experience, don’t you know) designers, who had my experience at heart? I don’t like George Ezra, I want to watch replays of the play-and-misses, not just the boundaries, and I don’t care about the lads getting on it in a pool of tepid water.
Where was St. Gideon, showing the way with some thoughtful pieces to the camera? Was there a copy of the Longstaff report under my seat? Where do I get a filter coffee around here?
I admit, I am an indulged wanker that probably makes up 1 per cent of the total audience, but as I look around I ask “who is actually enjoying today?”
There’s a group of mates in front me drinking grimly and alternating between the bar and their seats. They cheer Australian successes (a wicket, a boundary saved) but sit on their phones mostly.
(Photo by Robert Cianflone/Getty Images)
There is a marked change in acoustics when the dinner (yes, that’s what it’s called) concludes. A group of Sri Lankan supporters playing real instruments keep a continuous rhythm for the next session. They may well have been Cricket Australia plants, designed to bring atmos to a quarter-full Gabba, but it felt good. It felt real.
The play itself was eventful, with Australia obviously on top. It was like we’d been taken to a late 90s theme park and been teleported to being good at cricket again. Except this was a green Sri Lankan team in conditions highly favourable to Australia.
There were real, genuine moments. A little girl interviewed during the break. She was enthusiastic about the three chickens in her back yard. “And what do you like most about playing cricket?” asks the professional upbeat man.
*Shrugs*
We’re all time poor, attention-deprived vessels. What is beautiful about Test cricket is the space, the collegiality that we’re all here at the same time, at the same place doing one very indulgent thing: watching sportspeople, at the top of their craft, do their thing with a result on the line. Let’s celebrate that.
Whether the ball is pink, red, white, round or oval; every sport needs to take a real look at itself and ask, KonMari-style, how they bring joy to their fans. That experience can be ecstatic and illuminating or it can be transactional and corporate. The future of sport will depend on getting it right.
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