Well, unlike Raphael, the sarcastic Ninja Turtle, I can now say that I understand cricket, a sport I have been totally confused by as long as I've been aware of its existence. Here's how it happened.
I found out that the 5th and final India Vs. England cricket match was being played in Dharamshala on the bus ride up there from an Indian sports writer and this shit's a big deal in India. So I bought a ticket online the next day which cost about $23 which seemed kinda steep, but this is, as I said, a big deal and sorta like the world series which is mighty pricey to attend. So I guess the price was right.
The next morning I went to a nearby guesthouse with good food to have breakfast early as the game started at 9am. I met a thoughtful cricket-playing British guy, Sam, in his early 20s who asked if I was going and I said yes and I joined him. We finished our porridge and took a tuktuk down to lower Dharamshala from Mcleod Ganj (which I would say is like the Portland of India minus the bikes). Our driver could only get us about a mile from the grounds (that's what they call a stadium!) so we walked and talked and Sam explained some of the rules of cricket to me, supplementing what I'd learned from my Indian soccer coach pal on the bus ride from Udaipur to Jodhpur. We found the line for the gate that we had tickets for which turned out to be about half a Km long. We stood in line for about a half hour as India batted being offered orange, white, and green facepaint for our un-affiliated cheeks. Finally we went in and found our seats which were near a group of 4 young English guys who painted the red and white English symbol on their cheeks to counter the Indian flag on the Indians' cheeks. The grounds are supposedly the most beautiful in the world with the mountains rising steeply in the background, but the stadium itself didn't really seem that nice. Kinda like a minor league baseball park, fortunately without the stupid between-inning antics of some Kevin James-like schmuck with a microphone and a musical towels game with 3 blond american college girls and two towels. But I digress.
Sam explained as much as I asked and slowly the game made more and more sense, but still seemed super boring and slow, much like I imagine baseball seems to most people who aren't enthusiasts. I kept this in mind as I watched. Like baseball, cricket has a million little rules each one making the game more complex.
The aisles were lined with police and army guys much more focused on the game than on doing any sort of job, which only involved repeatedly checking tickets at the top of the stairs to the seats. They also didn't carry any guns or handcuffs or anything you'd expect a cop to carry. Maybe they were really just there to check tickets and watch the game.
India batted for about 3.5 hours then they had their tea break. They scored 226 runs via a couple of sixes (homers), a bunch of fours (the ball rolling to the perimeter), and lots of ones and twos. Tea break over, England came up to bat and took their sweet time, batting for ones and twos and not even trying for the big runs, slowly chipping away at the 226 run deficit. The British guys to our left took this opportunity to get the cheering done and cheered loudly among the mostly silent crowd. The Indians in our section all turned around and gave them a good-hearted hard time. India had already won 3 of 4 games in this series of 50 over cricket (1 over is 6 bowls, or "pitches," so each team gets 300 pitches to do with what they can, unless the make 10 wickets (or "outs") before they complete all 50 overs) so there wasn't much riding on this game. When England finally won with 5 overs to go with 3 wickets with some big sixes and no one really seemed upset or happy or anything. The game kinda just...ended and that was it. 8 hours and no grumbling. We took some pics with some Indians and headed out, walking a mile or two to a taxi to take us back up to McCleod Ganj. On the way, there was a Coca-Cola endorsed sign that said, "Divorce your speed, not wife." Been there!
Put that in Casey Jones' SkullBong and smoke it.
I found out that the 5th and final India Vs. England cricket match was being played in Dharamshala on the bus ride up there from an Indian sports writer and this shit's a big deal in India. So I bought a ticket online the next day which cost about $23 which seemed kinda steep, but this is, as I said, a big deal and sorta like the world series which is mighty pricey to attend. So I guess the price was right.
The next morning I went to a nearby guesthouse with good food to have breakfast early as the game started at 9am. I met a thoughtful cricket-playing British guy, Sam, in his early 20s who asked if I was going and I said yes and I joined him. We finished our porridge and took a tuktuk down to lower Dharamshala from Mcleod Ganj (which I would say is like the Portland of India minus the bikes). Our driver could only get us about a mile from the grounds (that's what they call a stadium!) so we walked and talked and Sam explained some of the rules of cricket to me, supplementing what I'd learned from my Indian soccer coach pal on the bus ride from Udaipur to Jodhpur. We found the line for the gate that we had tickets for which turned out to be about half a Km long. We stood in line for about a half hour as India batted being offered orange, white, and green facepaint for our un-affiliated cheeks. Finally we went in and found our seats which were near a group of 4 young English guys who painted the red and white English symbol on their cheeks to counter the Indian flag on the Indians' cheeks. The grounds are supposedly the most beautiful in the world with the mountains rising steeply in the background, but the stadium itself didn't really seem that nice. Kinda like a minor league baseball park, fortunately without the stupid between-inning antics of some Kevin James-like schmuck with a microphone and a musical towels game with 3 blond american college girls and two towels. But I digress.
Sam explained as much as I asked and slowly the game made more and more sense, but still seemed super boring and slow, much like I imagine baseball seems to most people who aren't enthusiasts. I kept this in mind as I watched. Like baseball, cricket has a million little rules each one making the game more complex.
The aisles were lined with police and army guys much more focused on the game than on doing any sort of job, which only involved repeatedly checking tickets at the top of the stairs to the seats. They also didn't carry any guns or handcuffs or anything you'd expect a cop to carry. Maybe they were really just there to check tickets and watch the game.
India batted for about 3.5 hours then they had their tea break. They scored 226 runs via a couple of sixes (homers), a bunch of fours (the ball rolling to the perimeter), and lots of ones and twos. Tea break over, England came up to bat and took their sweet time, batting for ones and twos and not even trying for the big runs, slowly chipping away at the 226 run deficit. The British guys to our left took this opportunity to get the cheering done and cheered loudly among the mostly silent crowd. The Indians in our section all turned around and gave them a good-hearted hard time. India had already won 3 of 4 games in this series of 50 over cricket (1 over is 6 bowls, or "pitches," so each team gets 300 pitches to do with what they can, unless the make 10 wickets (or "outs") before they complete all 50 overs) so there wasn't much riding on this game. When England finally won with 5 overs to go with 3 wickets with some big sixes and no one really seemed upset or happy or anything. The game kinda just...ended and that was it. 8 hours and no grumbling. We took some pics with some Indians and headed out, walking a mile or two to a taxi to take us back up to McCleod Ganj. On the way, there was a Coca-Cola endorsed sign that said, "Divorce your speed, not wife." Been there!
Put that in Casey Jones' SkullBong and smoke it.
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