It should have been front-page news: something actually happened at the cricket on Tuesday.
And it even involved a cricket ball … along with a couple of other, more fragile balls. One of the cricketers took a direct hit in the box (a flimsy plastic protective device intended to keep the nether regions of vulnerable cricketers safe and cosy). The box cracked and all other team members were suddenly very interested in the state of said cricketers wedding vegetables.
Even at work, it caused most of us in the office to stop, cringe a little on behalf of the poor bloke and talk about the cricket for a few minutes.
It should come as no surprise to anyone that I’m not a huge fan of cricket: a “sport” that seems to go on forever and ever and ever. And sometimes doesn’t even get a result.
And I still don’t think it really is a sport because shouldn’t playing a sport involve breaking a sweat and moving a lot? No, cricket is a pastime, much like chess and belly-button lint collecting. However, Tuesday’s incident is proof that even a cricket-hater such as myself can take an interest in the game given the right conditions.
And remember: if you think onions are the only vegetable that can make you cry, you’ve obviously never had a spud chucked at your nuts.