Cricket, on the other hand, is a ridiculous sport and for that reason I am naming it number 2 on my list of things foreigners do that annoy me. Baseball is clearly a more highly evolved game and once it was invented by Abner Doubleday (or whomever – that’s one argument I could care less about) cricket should have gracefully faded to extinction. But it didn’t. It’s as though people still rode those funny bicycles with the enormous wheel now that we have 15 speed racing cycles. The key innovation of baseball is that there are parameters that constantly change as the game progresses, including balls, strikes, outs, men on base, batter up and on deck, and so on. These create moments of drama and tension that are simply missing in cricket. Too, in baseball, runs tend to come in clumps -- once men start getting on base it is possible to start chalking up large totals -- so dramatic comebacks are always possible even into the last inning. (By the way, do you think that “Too” is a grammatically-correct way to start a sentence? I don’t but thought I’d give it a try. Sorry for the interruption.) In cricket there is a sameness throughout, and aside from the bowler and batter most of the players don’t seem to have anything much to do for hours at a time.
So as to better report to you, my faithful readers, I watched a fair amount of the
While I am adding to my list of stupid things foreigners do that annoy me, let me mention that the British serve a fruit and bread pudding they call "spotted dick". Though a fine name for a disease this is obviously a ludicrous name for a dessert. That they share it with their Commonwealth is reason enough to be glad we fought a revolution. Now despite my collection of advanced degrees I’ll be the first to admit that I never emotionally graduated junior high school. But some things are just too great a temptation and I don’t think Mother Theresa could avoid the giggles if they tried to serve her some spotted dick. And she’s dead. Here's the astonishing part – they don’t even realize how juvenile they sound. When one English member of my bicycle tour group had the effrontery to offer to share his spotted dick with me I had no choice but to illustrate their error by telling them about an American dessert called "Inflamed Testicles". Oh what hilarity ensued as they gullibly asked the others in the group whether they had ever had Inflamed Testicles. That would have had them rolling in the halls at
Your faithful correspondent,
Walkabout Dave
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