Local cricketers in the spotlight
The media hype around the World T20 cricket tournament in Sri Lanka obscures the value of village cricket. Chris Mann, who played for Bathurst, celebrates the pineapple league.
Real Cricket
Local cricketers in the spotlight
The media hype around the World T20 cricket tournament in Sri Lanka obscures the value of village cricket. Chris Mann, who played for Bathurst, celebrates the pineapple league.
Real Cricket
A crunch of spikes on concrete steps,
a few brave claps, a burst of cheers
from wives and families on the stand
as men in white, some whirling arms,
step out a door, a changing room
marked Visitors and stroll on to the field.
They cross a rope, a boundary line
that rings a world of make-believe,
where cricket for a day transcends
the scams and scandals of the week,
where industry and farming pause
as caps and floppy hats inspect the pitch.
Bit green, says one, a spinner’s track.
I look down at the close-knit roots,
at crack-lines in the flat-rolled clay,
at scuffed old boots, their laces frayed,
stored in cupboards, like dreams on hold,
beside the backpack, folk guitar and amp.
Man in! Old hands at tax and law,
young bloods in chicory and beef
spread out across the field, so glad
to range outdoors, to soak up sun,
to shed the rules, the roles of work
they’re born again as slip or cover-point.
Two leg please. An umpire bends
above the stumps. At short square-leg
I marvel how such rites transmute
the thuggish rivalry of human genes
which thwarted subtly shaft a friend
or bomb whole cities into smoking ruins.
The umpire lifts an arm. That’s two!
The batsman looks around the field
then settles down astride the crease.
Does evolution peak on planet Earth
when families gather on green fields
and umpires call as to the cosmos Play?
