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 Explaining cricket to the
Americans
A few months ago, our
Indian community held a cricket match to raise funds for a
charitable organisation. Because most Americans have the mistaken
perception that cricket is a corrupted version of baseball, I wanted
to use this match as an opportunity to explain to the Americans the
intricacies of cricket. What a mistake!
Before I get carried
away, let me describe the teams. Team 1, the Wisemen, consisted of
eight men of Indian origin. Yes, I agree a team must consist of 11
players. But the captain of Wisemen’s team, Ganesh, could find only
eight players who were not suffering from arthritis and who were
willing to put themselves through more than two hours of physical
activity. The average age on the Wisemen team was 55 and the average
waistline, 40 inches.
For the sake of equity,
Team 2, the Desikids, were also restricted to eight players. But
there was nothing Wisemen could do about their average age, 20, or
their average waistline, 30 inches. And, everyone from the Desikids
team was fit as a fiddle.
On a Sunday morning, the
teams assemble sharply at 9:30 a.m. at a local park grounds.
Volunteers from the charity had already prepared a makeshift pitch
and had planted the stumps on both ends of the pitch. The audience
comprises of members of the Indian community and their American
friends and colleagues. There are also a few other Americans,
visitors to the park, who are standing gawking at these strange
people in strange clothes preparing to play a strange
sport.
When the pot-bellied
members of the Wisemen team proudly walk onto the field led by their
captain Ganesh, the audience, Indians and Americans alike, pretty
much ignore their waddled entry. A few minutes later, Desikids walk
in led by their captain, 20-year old Ramesh, and are received with a
thundering cheer from the crowd.
Since there is still a
half-an-hour before the game, the players start their warm up. One
or two players from the Wisemen begin practice bowling to the
Desikids. Ramesh receives one of these balls and he hits the ball in
the general direction of Ganesh, the captain of the Wisemen team.
Ganesh is popularly known among his teammates as the “all-rounder”
and he wants to keep this reputation intact. Of course, Ganesh
assumes that his teammates call him an all-rounder because of his
expertise over every facet of the game; fortunately, he is not aware
that it is more a reference to his physical shape.
Ganesh, to show that he
is every bit as capable as his name implies, decides to catch the
ball flying 20 yards away from him. With a stylish twist, he jumps
two feet into the air and with his hand raised fully to catch the
ball. That is when all hell broke loose. Instead of catching the
ball, Ganesh falls to the ground with a huge thud and with a scream,
“Oh! My God.” He is stretched out on the ground and there is no
movement or any further sounds from him.
Two of his teammates,
Eshwar and Mani, rush towards him and inquire, “Ganesh, what
happened?” Ganesh replies, “I think I have a head injury; I can’t
move my limbs.” Looking at the motionless and bulbous Ganesh
sprawled on the ground, Mani begins to laugh uncontrollably and
comments, “Since Nari Contractor, India’s former Test captain had a
head injury about forty years ago this is the second time in Indian
cricket history that a captain has received a head injury. And that
too before the start of the game.”
Eshwar, unlike Mani, is
concerned for his friend and chides him. “Mani! stop laughing. This
is a serious matter.” Mani, then covers his mouth but continues to
giggle. Eshwar frantically searches his pockets for his cell phone
and dials for help – not the hospital but to Ganesh’s wife Ramya. As
soon as she picks up the phone, Eshwar shrieks into the phone
“Ramya, Ganesh has hurt himself during the game.”
Ramya, without any
excitement or concern responds, “Already? The game hasn’t even
started – it’s not even 10 yet.”
“No. No. Ganesh tried to
catch a ball during practice and he fell to the ground and he’s not
moving and says he has a head injury. Should we need to take him to
a hospital?” Perhaps, like in his home, Eshwar wants confirmation
from the wife before he makes a decision.
Ramya continues
unperturbed, “Oh, don’t worry; he will be all right. He doesn’t move
much even when he is at home. Let him lie down on the ground for a
couple of minutes. He will be okay. He’s probably just showing off
to the crowd.”
Eshwar is visibly upset
by Ramya’s callousness. Frustrated, he turns to his fallen comrade
before calling for an ambulance. Low and behold, Ganesh is standing
up, laughing and talking to Mani. Ramya was right; who knows a man
better than his wife!
Finally, the game starts
and the Desikids, having won the toss, elect to bat. After facing 25
overs and after losing only four tickets and scoring 50 runs, the
Desikids end their batting.
It is time for the
Wisemen to begin their batting. After a short break, the two opening
batsmen for the Wisemen, Eshwar and Kumar, walk onto the field and
take up positions at either end of the pitch. By the end of the
first over, both players were out, without scoring a single run. Now
Ganesh, the captain, an all-rounder and a man of many head injuries,
enters the ground and takes his position. Babu, the pace bowler, 20
years of age and six feet tall, runs from the other end of the field
and bowls a fast ball. Ganesh swings the bat at the ball and
immediately raises his head and looks towards the pavilion end to
see where the ball is going to land; is it going to be a four or a
six? The ball is nowhere to be seen. Must have been a six! Nikil,
the wicket keeper touches Ganesh on the shoulder and with a big
smile on his face says, “Ganesh uncle, the ball is in my gloves; you
didn’t hit anything except air.”
With a stern look, Ganesh
turns his back and gets ready to face the next ball. While showing
he is ready to receive the next ball, Ganesh is also looking around
the ground to see where the fielders are and to which opening on the
leg or off sides that he should hit the next ball. Babu delivers the
next ball and it rips right through the middle stump and the umpire
immediately raises his hand to indicate that Ganesh is
out.
Even though he is clean
bowled, Ganesh is not happy and yells at Babu “I wasn’t even ready.
How could you deliver the ball; this is not acceptable.” Babu
responds, “Mama, the umpire lowered his hands to indicate that I can
bowl and that’s all that matters.” Narayanan, the umpire, often
raises and lowers his hands, or waves his palms randomly. It was
generally unclear whether he is doing his job as an umpire or
working his aching bones. Anyway, the damage is done. Ganesh,
screaming obscenities at Narayanan, walks back to the
pavilion.
Next Mani walks in to
bat. After facing one ball and scoring one run, he asks for a time
out. He says something to the umpire and in turn, umpire Narayanan
enthusiastically begins to point his hand in the general direction
of the audience. Mani then walks towards the audience and goes
straight towards Sundar, president of the Carnatic Music Society,
sitting among the audience and asks, “Hey Sundar, do you have
tickets available for Sudha’s concert? I want four tickets for my
family and the Narayanans.” Embarrassed, Sundar replies “Yes; I will
keep four tickets for you; you should probably finish the game
first.” Mani turns back towards the pitch in no particular hurry and
shouts, “Narayana, Sundar has tickets for the concert; he will keep
four tickets for us.”
After another 30 minutes
and countless interruptions and pretended injuries, the charade
called cricket finally ends with Wisemen being all out for five runs
and the Desikids being declared the winners by 45 runs.
If the Americans in the
audience didn’t think cricket was a mock sport before the game, they
surely left with that impression. Thanks to our all-rounders for
organising this game and for raising money for a charity; their
playing, however, was anything but charitable to the sport called
cricket.
Dr Ram S.
Sriram
Atlanta
sriramgsu@gmail.com
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