London
— Twenty thousand Englishmen baying at the enemy. Screaming themselves
hoarse, urging their champion to strike flesh. And then, it happens: The
enemy is hit. Yes! Unwilling to show pain, he removes his helmet. Blood
— the sight most keenly craved for — trickles down. His entourage runs
to assist him — he attempts nonchalance, but concussion is an issue. The
crowd is ecstatic.
Is
this the Saxons at the Battle of Hastings, eager for Norman gore? Or
Wellington’s men at Waterloo, bayonets fixed for Frenchies? No, it’s
June 2005 at Lord’s Cricket Ground, the spiritual home of cricket
worldwide. And the bloodthirsty mob of 20,000 are mostly wearing
blazers, brogues and club ties. On other days of the week, you’ll find
them at work in arbitrage.
And
the blood? Australian, of course — the ancient enemy, rival for the
Ashes, as the trophy for each five-match tournament between England and
Australia is known. What a start that was, and there were still some 24
more days of such glorious skirmishing to look forward to.
In
fact, the 2005 Ashes series turned into the greatest I have ever
witnessed, the probable outcome seesawing almost hourly. There were
moments when I had to leave the TV, my anxiety too intense. (Spectating
can be more nerve-racking even than playing oneself.) I still cannot
watch the highlights of the second match — which England won by the
closest margin in 123 years of the contest — without fear stoking my
pulse. It also remains the only time I have attended a victory parade:
Trafalgar Square, London, was awash with jubilant jackets and ties that
day.
England
vs. Australia in cricket may be one of the oldest sporting rivalries,
but it is hardly the most chivalrous. Rather, it is when this
oh-so-civilized game truly reveals its nasty, brutish heart. Cricket may
be the only team game in the world in which it is entirely legal for a
player to make a move whose only purpose is to hurt, if not hospitalize,
an opponent. In cricket, this is not a foul; no penalty is awarded, or
score deducted. For, central to this gentleman’s pastime — whether
played on a village green or at Lord’s — is “the bouncer.”
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