With the Asia cup, cricket fever has caught on once again in my house. My folks were perched in front of the TV. I make an entrance in with a broom – to do the sweeping, but they will not have it. “Come off it mom- let sleeping dust lie” said my daughter knowing that no way will I be able to get them out of the room. I slumped down on a chair. If you can’t beat them ,join them.
“Ah,
what a lovely sixer”, that’s my son, jumping up to hit the ceiling . “And uh..that’s a four.” “What’s a sixer,
What’s a four’? I ask. “six runs for a sixer, and four for a boundary. The batsman gets that extra runs’.”Funny
reasoning I say truculently’’ ‘why he never even took one step”.
There
is something being said about a square leg.
What sort of leg is that? No ball? Can’t he see the ball in the bowler’s
hands? And pray what is a dot ball? Have they put dots on the ball? First slip, second slip? I didn’t see anyone slipping either “Oh gosh,
he is out for a duck”! “Out for a duck? “ I shake my head “Who is going out to
get a duck when the game is not over yet”?”
“He has bowled a maiden over”.
That gets my goat.
“Has
he come to play the Romeo or to play cricket? Anyway where’s the maiden? “I say looking at the screen. Sure enough there are maidens there with warpaint
over their faces, acting anything but ladylike.
“Who
has bowled , which maiden over?” I ask
again. They collapse in laughter. “A wide”
I dare not ask what a wide is, nor an L.B.W. Discretion is the better part of valour.
Only
when a silly point is mentioned do I get up and say “Ah, it’s a real silly game. And when you kids keep laughing at me, that is not cricket......
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