August 12, and it is almost 3 am. I have been awake for nearly 90 minutes. I have done my stretches. It is going to be a long Thursday. I am up early, patiently waiting for India to take on England in the second match of the five-Test series. (What is Test Cricket?)
They are playing cricket, which is like a not-so-rich royal cousin of baseball. It is the stuttering, sometimes bumbling, mumbling cousin. Let’s be clear, if baseball is enough for you to reach for an aspirin, then cricket needs you to find the company of gin or something more substantial. It confuses, confounds, and challenges even a diehard fan.
India and England are taking each other on at the Lord’s, the hallowed home of cricket. Lord’s cricket ground is a living testament to the English class divide. Beautiful women in their lovely hats. Genteel claps to cheer the individual acts of sporting heroism. It is about champagne corks popping onto the playing green. Any test match at Lord’s is about history, tradition, and dogma. It is everything that is good (and bad) about English cricket.
For the next five days, fifteen sessions in total, each session lasting two hours. Three sessions are broken up with two breaks, one each for lunch and tea. I did tell you the sport is a unique kind of weird. It doesn’t distract from the fact that 11 players and their two opponents are locked in a (Read more...)