How to make cricket ridiculous

How to make cricket ridiculous

I admit, it’s not easy to make the game of cricket even more ridiculous than it already is. Even though I’m British, I have never really warmed to the idea of cricket as the sort of pastime I would choose over, say, breeding slugs, and tend to agree with Bill Bryson’s assessment that cricket is the only sport where a single game can last three days without anything happening.

So, frankly, I couldn’t normally care less that Indian cricket has started featuring Bollywood cheerleaders, not to mention laser shows and full-blown concerts to bring in the crowds. The story does, however, have a ring of pointless idiocy about it that I find irresistable.

In my view, cricket isn’t, and was never meant to be, a spectator sport. The reason cricket is such a tediously boring game is that it was really just an excuse for the menfolk to meet, do business and pretend it’s all good exercise; the women, in charge of the sandwiches and tea-urns, networked like mad. No wonder the game doesn’t lend itself to filling huge stadiums even in India, where cricket is more or less the national religion (with Hinduism coming a poor second).

So not only do we have to deal with watching men swatting at the occasional ball while radio commentators chat about the really rather super spongecake made by Mrs Wilkins of Leamington Spa (or whatever the Indian equivalent might be), but we now have to contend with crowds of over-excited louts falling over themselves to ogle at some movie star’s curves. Cricket isn’t my sport, and it will never become my sport even if it features Shilpa Shetty.