limeys
Out of context: Reply #22
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- mikotondria30
ah, cricket's got its own impenetrable magic..
I must have been about 12 when I just idly happened to watch 3 or 4 hours of a match on tv one summer - it really is a summer thing, too, something about the hypnotic relentless glare of the sun, in fact if it's not sunny then the cricketing term 'rain stopped play' comes into force..
It's a game of high joy enducing drama punctuating long periods of build-ups and endless commentator speculation, with the guys on the field apparantly doing very little - the fielders gradually drawing in because the bowler has signalled them he's gonna be spinning this one in...the crowd gradually become more restless as the bowler finishes shining the ball on the inside leg of his pants, and slowly looks more concentrated, a tense bubbling hush begins to settle around the ground - a lone bird flies past the pavilion clock - 4 minutes til Lunch - if they can get one more wicket, especially this guy's, before lunch, what a great psychological boost that will be going into this afternoon's play - the batsman is looking for a 4 - to take them to 50 for 3, 50 going to lunch wouldn't be too shabby, indeed not, geoffrey, and slowly the bowler begins to wind himself up like a snake, jogging toward to the wicket, his arm arches up and over, his wrist cocked as the fielders are walking up behind the batsman, briskly now, the ball flies through the air in an improbable arc for just a second, the batsman sees it, steps out, the bat swoops through the air, the ball lands on a worn patch of ground, on the seam, jumps up like a scalded rabbit away, and towards the batters leg, with just the quiestest 'clip' on the edge of the bat, sailing up toward the fielder, now only a few feet back, who grabs it, for sure, and tosses it into the air...'howwzaaaattTT!!!!' they all scream, the silence shattered, the crowd roars and all eyes are on the man in the white coat.
He's gone ! He's gone !