Saturday, 9 May 2009
Can you hear that? It's hard over the incessant din of the IPL and the endless, meaningless talk of the Twenty20 World Cup. Hidden away in the psyche of all passionate cricket fans across the Commonwealth is the slow, steady, surging beat of another Ashes battle. It's the five day game personified. Reputations made, and broken. Legends born. Five glorious days times five of pitched battle for the ultimate prize in all of cricketdom. World Cups are used to clean the sprigs, Champions Trophies as a welcome footstool after a long days toil, Frank Worrell's a distant memory. This is what we live for. Early mornings with a cup of Joe, not needed to keep awake but more as a companion in the dark. Wives asleep and unimpressed. It's the lover at 2am that has broken your heart and fulfilled your fantasies. It's cricket at it purest, the way it was intended. All whites and creams, all day, all you've got to give.