Tracking the Kiwis from far-flung lands
For the past two years, this question has been a part of my everyday life. As an English teacher in Japan for two years, and now currently based in South Korea, I face the daily battle of learning a new language, learning about a very different culture, a
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"Teacher! What's your favourite sport?" "My favourite sport is cricket." "Eeeeeh?! Cricket?! What?!" "Well...ummm ... you see..." (Chaos ensues...)
For the past two years, this question has been a part of my everyday life. As an English teacher in Japan for two years, and now currently based in South Korea, I face the daily battle of learning a new language, learning about a very different culture, and learning to live without cricket. In these parts, you give a kid a cricket bat, or a bit of 2 by 4, and he swings lustily like ... Sammy Sosa. Put three stumps (or tree branches resembling stumps) in the ground, and people ask about your primitive rodent catching device.
These are some of the frustrations when you live and work in countries vastly different from your own - you have to take the great with the not-so-great, and accept the challenge. The chances of finding a big enough patch of grass to set up a game of cricket in these parts is low enough. Most public schools in Japan and South Korea have the space; it's just that the play areas are constituted of something resembling sand and grit, as grass is deemed too expensive. Then, you have to find the players. If you are out at night with friends, the suggestion of a game of cricket might work, provided that the fluid intake has been ample, and then the rules take care of themselves.
This comes with a word of warning, as you might have to "adapt" the game into "chase the rock with a big stick." Essentially, the fun of cricket is there, which is the main thing. However, it lacks the subtle tweak of a Shane Warne legspinner, or the not-so-subtle emphasis of a Tony Grieg pitch report.
On infrequent trips back to my native New Zealand, I take every opportunity to watch a game. I was last home in August for two weeks, and sat glued to the TV as the Ashes drama took place. As luck would have it, I watched as the famous Edgbaston match played itself out to a glorious finish. Living in a cricket-deprived country, this is what you are reduced to - as a Kiwi, having to support either England or Australia. As my fiancee' is English, the choice is made easier for me. And when the cricket is that good, who really cares?
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You have to go back to the days of bubble-perms for an answer. Back in 1982, I cried long and loud - as any three-year-old would - when my cricket-mad family began to yell and scream at the television set. Of course, I didn't realise the glorious feats that they, along with millions of Kiwis, were celebrating. There was Lance Cairns hitting those sixes at the MCG in a hopelessly lost cause, and Martin Snedden bowling Vic Marks to beat England by two runs at Adelaide. It was inevitable, after those tear-filled early moments that I would work out what all the fuss was about, learn to love the great game and the great Kiwi underdog.
Today, that passion for Kiwi sports teams has not diminished, especially when it comes to a tussle against our near-neighbours. Every game against Australia is greeted with a fair degree of trepidation due to the relative sizes of our player pools and the greater level of success that Australia has achieved in past competition. However, the thought of putting one over on our big cousins from across the Tasman always gives Kiwi cricket players and fans a great feeling of enjoyment and optimism.
That's what fuels an apparently one-sided contest with the necessary fire to make it a thrilling contest. Any underdog New Zealand team boasting names such as Shane Bond, Chris Carins, Nathan Astle and Jacob Oram, and playing Australia, is well worth backing in my book. Who knows? The contest may end in disappointment for New Zealand, as it so often has in the past. However, with Australia playing on New Zealand soil, and New Zealand being so hopeless as to be written off by most, I won't be counting my tinnies before they come out of the fridge, cobber...
David O'Connell is a New Zealander teaching Sammy Sosa wannabes in Korea
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