Our Indian friend Rushabh took us to see a cricket game—pardon me, I mean a cricket match—at a local park here in Madison. He was kind enough to explain the game to us as we watched, so now I know all about cricket.
Anybody who has ever played baseball can easily grasp the essence of cricket, which was bequeathed to the Indians and others by the Raj. Americans were exempted from the need to play cricket by our timely exercise of the British Empire’s Early Opt-out Clause.
Look, the game’s simple. I will explain it for you:
A cricket match begins when the umpire drives long stakes called “wickets” into the ground with a ceremonial implement that resembles a cast-iron skillet. Once the wickets are planted, he casts an eye upon them to check their alignment, a process known as “laying the battery.”
Then two groups of men shouting in a mix of English and Gujarati assemble on the grassy field where three giant concentric circles have been drawn around the two distinct wickets.
Now, here is where the game differs ever so slightly from baseball: A baseball diamond is essentially a quarter of a circle, with the batsman at its apex. A cricket ground is a full circle with the batsman more or less in the middle.
There can be no foul balls! Anywhere you pop the thing up, even behind you, could be a home run—which is called a “six” because it scores six points.
In all other respects, it’s just like baseball. For example, the pitcher, who is called the “bowler,” throws the ball toward the batter. Only, he’s allowed, maybe even required, to take a running start and fling his arms around like one of those inflatable tube-like advertising dummies you see on used car lots, before delivering his pitch, er, bowl.
The batsman gets to swing at the ball, after the whirling-dervish bowler lets it go, and his main object is to defend the wicket from the ball, using his bat to deflect it wherever he chooses. There are actually two batsmen, but only one of them gets to defend the wicket. The chief task of the other batsman is to switch places with the first one after the ball is hit.
If the ball slips by the batter and hits the wicket, the batter is out. Likewise, if he hits the ball away from the wicket but a defender catches it in the air, he is also out, just like in baseball. Or if a defender fields a grounder and throws it to the wicket before the two batsmen can change places, the actual batter is out.
Each team is allowed ten outs per inning, but the inning ends in any case after 120 good bowls, even if ten men have not been retired, which by the way they call “dismissed.” Then the other team gets a chance to exceed the first team’s points in the bottom half of the inning. Either they do or don’t, and then everybody goes home. After one inning. One lo-o-ong inning.
Unless, of course, it’s a test match—in which case they play for five days or until the lawn needs mowing, whichever comes first.
In fact, the whole game is a lot like watching grass grow.
Toward the end of an inning the players may become impatient and attack the umpire with their bats, pummeling him to an unconscious heap between the wickets. This is the original British source of our familiar baseball phrase, “struck him out.”
Once the umpire has been struck out, both teams retire to their respective pubs to toast their victory or nurse their grievance for the next five days or until the grass is cut.
There you have it, sports fans. Just thought you’d want to know.
Blessings,
Larry F. Sommers
Your New Favorite Writer
