National obsession a yawn
CALL me a philistine. Worse, call me un-Australian, but has mankind ever invented a more soporific waste of perfectly good time than Test cricket?
I try to get into it, honestly. One feels almost duty bound.
Rugby league is over for another year (all hail the mighty Kangaroos and all-conquering Darren Lockyer), so cricket is now apparently the national obsession.
In fact, it's now Sunday afternoon, and I've been listening to the third day of the Adelaide Test on ABC 612. Well, sort of listening while I obey lawful directions from the long suffering Mrs Syvret who is waging her annual war on household clutter. (I don't know how the cricket will finish, but I can promise you that in our household the war on clutter is about as winnable as the Iraq conflict.)
Right now the commentators are debating what time it is in Peru ? must have missed the relevance of that one while I had a brief but sharp domestic about whether surround sound systems can be defined as "clutter".
Anyway, perhaps the Peru digression had something to do with Paddington Bear. Or maybe seagulls ? they have seagulls in Peru, and seagulls in the outfield are a staple of cricket commentators worldwide when the grass on the pitch is growing about as fast as the game is progressing. Earlier in the day we were discussing daylight saving and the relative sizes of Australia, India and Siberia. As you do. Nothing worse than dead air, as they call it in the radio business.
It's a thrill a minute your Test cricket.
What was the headline in the Sunday papers? "BORE WAR ? Poms ready to put Aussies to sleep" from memory. Says it all really.
Sorry, interruption time again. The subject on the cricket commentary has now switched to the Sixth Floor Museum in the Texas School Book Depository and Lee Harvey Oswald and signs about no hand guns. Fascinating stuff.
We'll soon interrupt this commentary for the cricket no doubt. Which as we write looks like it is heading for a thrilling fifth day draw. Can't wait to buy the highlights DVD, released one assumes by Insomnia Studios.
Maybe this is being a bit unfair. Cricket can be a fun game to play in the backyard on Boxing Day with your children, a wheelie bin, a tennis ball, and a plentiful supply of Fourex.
Like most Aussie children I played cricket when I was at school. In my case dismally. I'd argue it had something to do with being red/green colour blind and therefore only discovering where the ball was when it hit me in the temple.
Cricket can be fun when you attend a big game for all the spectacle and chanting and the colourful characters of the Barmy Army, beachballs, the Mexican waves and the beer wenches.
Damn.
Sorry about that ? I forgot all the above fun has been banned these days in an effort to make cricket about as vibrant as a chamber music recital.
Live update time. The seagulls ? 20 or 30 of them gathered in the outfield right now according to the ABC commentary ? are quite like the British press pack. They peck each other apparently. Hang about. We've now moved to the cathedral bells in Adelaide and what time Evensong is. Must remember that next time I'm in Adelaide, which those of you who have had the misfortune to visit would understand is probably the most appropriate city on the planet to host the world's most boring sport.
But wait. Ponting just punched a shot down towards the seagulls, which "should be quite interesting" the radio tells me.
Obviously there were no avian casualties, because now we've moved the topic to the Collingwood AFL team song and the Wombles. Talk about eclectic.
Wombles. Aren't they something to do with Wimbledon and where the tennis ? which at least has rules that allow for a winner ? is played?
Never mind, I'll keep listening on the off chance I might pick up a nice recipe ? given one of the Pommy commentator's obsession with pies.
No. Stuff that. I might give it a break for a while now and crank up the surround sound (some wars are winnable). And Ponting's just out. I can't stand the excitement.
syvretp@qnp.newsltd.com.au Courier Mail