Cricket SCREWED

To many a nation Cricket is synonymous with wild frenzy, revelry, religion and lot more. Cricket for these nations is what Football is for Europe or South America. In fact for most Indians, cricket is the panacea for all their worries and trepidation's. Cricket makes them forget all their worldly problems and helps them soak into unabashed revelry and unbridled happiness. For them cricket is the zenith of enjoyment and fun. In fact, an Indian can talk at length on cricket and its cricketers. He can be the greatest fan and a critic unequivocally. But this cricket frenzy and following might be far from true for some. For them, cricket is as alien as the supposed aliens in the world. For them a sport named cricket does not exist. It is not even a mirage to them, it is way beyond. I had an encounter with such a person whom I invited to watch a cricket match at my home. It was the decider in the series and a potential nail biter. My guest that day was a Canadian named Pierre. More than me, Pierre took an audacious decision in accepting my invite to watch a cricket match, a sport he had never watched earlier, leave aside even heard about. I was both a mix of excitement and nerves having Pierre as my cricket buddy. I had the premonition though, that something aghast was in store for me, but I was bold and ready for it.

Fun Short Lived

The day arrived and I was match ready with a crate of soft drinks and snacks stacked. You know, there is no fun w/o having to munch some snacks and drink while watching a cricket match. So it’s a given I would say. Pierre arrived with a big smile on his face. There was no trace of trepidation on his face, knowing he was going to attempt something which he would have not thought of in his wildest dreams. To a cricket aficionado this description about Pierre may sound overboard, he would say what the heck? He is just watching a sport which is considered a religion by more than a billion people. But believe me, you won’t think I am going overboard, when you know that the only reference to cricket for him is an insect and nothing else. Without any further ado get ready to experience the weird world.

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The ODI started with the men in blue electing to bat first. The Aussies in their traditional yellow and green were all set to win the decider. The commentators started the post mortem of the field settings. Pierre pounced on the first comment saying what kind of words this sport has? Short leg, long leg, fine leg. These are obnoxious and outright vulgar words, I understood, where Pierre was coming from and I tried my best to explain it to him, but he refused to let his guard down. The start of the match was explosive, not on the cricket field, but in my house. His inquisitive cum sarcastic questions gained weight when the commentator blurted out, “the fielder at the silly point dropped a Lolly”. "What has he done to be called silly?" He roared! My explanation had no takers. His readiness to guillotine me at every instance, only made me wary and scared. I was losing my interest in the match. Commentators continued to blurt out words / sentences for Pierre to criticize. "He is a good sweeper and he gets runs galore by sweeping". "He introduced reverse sweep at the right time". I saw a big question mark on Pierre’s face. "Is he a damn sweeper?" "How do you do a reverse sweep?" Its plain bullshit, Pierre was all bored. To add to my woes, the commentator said "the batsman is beaten while fishing outside the off stump." "Where the hell is that guy fishing, I don’t see it, what kind of game is this?" I kept mum trying to keep the sound pollution minimal.

The Onslaught

With the game just started, I realized what is in store for me. After sometime, as the match progressed, I was laughed at, ridiculed, suffered condescending comments for loving or following a sport which had words like Bye, death bowler, leg break, leg bye, leg cutter, leg glance, leg spin, forward short leg etc. etc. These words made no sense to Pierre and he kept tearing the sport apart with his incisive comments. The problem was, I had no answers to why a position was called silly point, or for that matter why maiden over was called so. In spite of following this game all my life I didn’t know why those words were called so. I was a sitting duck for Pierre to carry an onslaught. Looking at him made me think, does the word magnanimity exist? For the next few hours I was all subdued like a hare in a bush sensing a predator, while, Pierre was the ferocious animal waiting to tear the prey apart.

I experienced some respite when lunch time was called and the players returned to the pavilion. Pierre continued gorging and drinking on whatever came within his sight. In between, he kept firing salvos at me with impunity. I had no option but to lie low. Post lunch, the commentators added to my sorry state by using words like Third man, Gully, broken furniture, military medium, royal duck. With extreme alacrity Pierre tore me apart with his questions, which were meant more to ridicule me than being inquisitive. I tried my level best in trying to make sense of the cricketing parlance being hurled by the commentators, but to no avail. "Why would someone call a person standing far off near the spectators a third man?" How come he is a third man, and not fourth or fifth man? "How come a player who walked back without scoring a run, is referred to as scoring a royal duck?" What on earth made cricketing gurus use a word like duck or third man? Thundered Pierre. Like a petrified person, I stood still keeping my mouth shut. Pierre was enjoying my state of ignominy and was smiling at my predicament. I was pushed in the corner for sure with no way to escape. I was myself to blame for my quandary. Every word coming out of Pierre’s mouth was like a stinging arrow and I had nothing in my arsenal to defend it leave aside destroy. The attack reached the zenith when Pierre heard commentator saying "he is a good hooker." Pierre thundered what kind of game is it where someone is called a “Good Hooker”. This game is absolute ridiculous wherein sexual innuendos are a norm. He continued with his juggernaut decimating me all ends up, I had no answers to any of his questions even though I have been following this sport for ages. That’s when I realized, for some it might be the most loved, popular sport, for others it might be a sport where nothing made sense, and where vulgarity is no big deal. I had my share of embarrassment at the hands of my friend and Pierre had the last laugh at my expense. That’s when I vowed, not to attempt to glorify cricket to anyone, leave aside a green horn to the core. Once bitten twice shy.