Step forward Jonathan Freedland, and a quite majestic 1,227-word [yes really] Guardian odyssey entitled, 'I never understood people's fixation with cricket. Now I've joined them'.
On 'vacation' in France [who'd guess] Jonathan's new obsession ['The Blackberry had a single purpose: allowing me, via its internet browser, to keep up to date with the cricket'] not only interrupted his viewing of 'a stunning Albigensian castle', it had him pondering 'a thoroughly absorbing long-haul clash. While a Manchester United versus Chelsea battle might be all over in ninety minutes, England's business with Australia takes all summer'.
'The rhythms of the game are like life itself, only more so: the gods smile on you one moment, only to frown the next'.
They do, don't they.
Now Hayward, Syed, Athers, Selves and the rest: top that!
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2 comments:
test cricket is an odyssey, football is a commercial break. ( mind you there are some good adverts around)
I would not be surprised, if given the square bracketed magnificence of the Freedland opus [not, Opus the penguin from Bloom County, obviously], the rest of the Phil Space nominees, potential nominees and any other verbose journalistic aspirational, just pulled the pin, as it were, metaphorically speaking, so to speak.
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