Last summer, I went to watch a cricket game for the first time. So, if you saw any flying pigs, that was probably why.
For those of you who like cricket this won’t be a biggie. For those of you that find the game long and boring, you may wonder what I was thinking.
In my house, it is quite an achievement to put off going to a cricket game for so long. Both of my younger brothers are cricket-crazy and have been for years. I have seen about 10 mins of one of my brother’s games. I know, I know- I am a bad sister. I choose slobbing out around the house every time.
Being familiar with my feelings on the sport, my family had not got me a ticket to see the Ashes game but then one of my brothers was busy so the ticket dropped down to me- the back-up child apparently.
This time I had no excuse. I wanted to get out the house and try something new and it was a gorgeous, sunny day. Also, I was told going to the Ashes at Lord’s was the game to go to, if I was going to start anywhere.
Now, I’m sorry to all cricket fans everywhere but I can’t lie. I’m still not sold. I can’t say that I will definitely attend more games, but then again I can’t say I won’t, which is an achievement in itself.
I had trouble realising when something happened in the game. When the crowd clapped and cheered, I clapped and cheered. When the crowd stood up to applaud for some reason, I stood up to applaud but I had no idea why. Bats were swinging, people were running/wandering around and sometimes I could spot a ball, yet I still couldn’t tell what was really going on.
But the day had its perks. I treated myself to a glass of Pimms (sadly I could only afford a small one as my student budget doesn’t stretch to £9 a glass) and a Calippo. These ice pops caught the attention of the row behind, who seconded my feelings that this was the way to do cricket.
The weather was scorching and our seats had less than no shade. I felt my head drooping multiple times as the heat and the slow paced game took their toll. I left the stadium to lie down on the shaded grass behind it, watching the game on a big screen but we were soon ushered away so staff could start clearing up. My mother and I tried to pretend that we couldn’t see what they were doing or the people moving elsewhere but the staff found us and it was back to our seats.
As the end of the game approached, I started to understand slightly more of what was happening. England was winning, the game was tenser and the crowd was certainly more drunk. Chanting between the England supporters and the Aussies ensued. It was reminiscent of my university’s Freshers’ Week and the banter between the halls of residences. This was my territory- although I didn’t join in.
In true Ellis-style, I missed the big moment. The crowd cheered the loudest yet. Arms were in the air. The team were hugging. The game had ended. Around 7 hours of sitting and watching and I wasn’t looking and so missed the big finale- or so I thought, apparently there were several more games to go before the winner was actually determined.
Upon making it home, the first thing my brother did was to turn on the highlights of the game. I had to leave the room, I couldn’t handle anymore.
I know this post may generally sound negative but I could do it again. Many of the people around us were work colleagues, with cool-boxes filled with strawberries and bottles of champagne (there were corks popping everywhere) and there was a friendly vibe in the air. I could certainly do cricket that way.