Cricket - Isn't That An Annoying Little Insect?

My grandmother taught me that one should never stereotype; it causes us to miss the essential uniqueness of a person, place, or thing. I have tried, really tried, throughout my life, to follow my grandmother's teaching. I think I've been pretty successful, but I have to confess that there's one area where I have been guilty of the worse kind of stereotyping - the traditional English game of cricket.

Over the years I have lived and worked in countries where this game is played, and except for trying to get my English friends to explain its rationale and scoring to me, I have avoided it. I mean, come on; a guy with a humongous coffee stirrer standing next to a strange contraption that looks like an oversized Tinker Toy construction, trying to hit a funny ball thrown by another guy, who bounces the darn thing off the dirt. And then, there's that running back and forth while the guys out on the 'field' run around trying to catch the ball. Then, and this one really gets me; they throw the ball, not at the player, or a catcher, but at the Tinker Toy contraption.

As if the way it's played is not confusing enough, there's the scoring. Years ago, someone explained the concept of runs, or so I thought, but never could they make me understand the number-slash-number system, or what an over is. Never, that is, until I came to Zimbabwe in November 2009.

Now, cricket is an English game, but Zimbabweans are among the most rabid cricket fans in the world. The country's political and economic crisis of the past decade had kept it out of a lot of international play, but this year, under Zimbabwe Cricket CEO Ozias Bvute, the national cricket team is once again competing against countries like India and Bangladesh, and doing quite well.

Even in the absence of international play, however, domestic cricket in Zimbabwe is alive and well, with teams from throughout the country thrilling fans regularly. Teams like the Matabeleland Tuskers the Mid-West Rhinos, and the Mashonaland Eagles vie for trophies and space on the sports pages. Bvute, an engaging and persuasive young man with whom I have played golf on occasion, was insistent that I had to attend a live match. I finally gave in, and on November 19, I went to Harare Sports Club to for a game of the Stanbic20 Series between the Mountaineers and the Southern Rocks.

One of the things that has kept me away from cricket is the fact that a full blown match can take days. But, this was a twenty match, which means it would be concluded in about three hours. Okay, I thought, it's Friday, and in Harare the work week comes to a halt at noon, so if I go to a match starting at ten, I can be home by one, and I get two hours away from work. Sounded like a win-win situation.

Turned out to be a WIN for me; I now understand the game a bit better, and I discovered that my stereotyped view was way off the mark. I always thought of this as a sissy game, with hours of boredom interrupted occasionally by more boredom. Almost getting beaned by a well-batted cricket ball changed my mind. When Southern Rocks' batter Elton Chigumbura smashed a ball from a position across the field from the Governor's Box where I sat - a good 150 meters distance and twenty meters above the level of the field, that smacked into the roof above my head, I realized that these guys were real athletes. I also got a quick lesson in scoring; that smack earned the Rocks six runs. Chigumbura and his team mate Sikander Raza added more runs with a couple more six-run smashes into the stands, and several four-run bats past the outfield boundary, to lead their team to a 23 run victory over the Mountaineers.

Now, cricket still ain't baseball; but "wow" is all I can say. As they say in that ad about PGA golfers, "These guys are good."