Sweet, sweet lullaby

It was the summer of 2003-2004 (here in Australia) and I was heavily pregnant. The Handsome Australian and I lived in a small rented flat that had no air conditioning. It wasn't a particularly hot summer by Australian standards, but when you are in that stage of a pregnancy, even a mild day can be unbearable. The temperature of our apartment and the size of my growing belly made sleeping at night extremely difficult. I was up and down, up and down all night long. I had ice packs, cold drinks, fans and still I couldn't manage to knock out a good night's sleep.

As luck would have it, I didn't have anywhere to be during the days as I'd finished up work several weeks beforehand. This meant that each day was mine to fill as I'd choose. I would generally have a leisurely breakfast before heading out to a shopping centre, cinema, cafe or anywhere that had air conditioning. I'd spend a few hours in the cool air and then I'd return to our flat for a late lunch and a bit of time on the couch. When I'd sit down and put my swollen feet up, I'd put the television on hoping to catch a bit of mindless entertainment--an episode of Oprah perhaps or maybe a really trashy soap opera. Anything really to take my mind off the discomfort and the heat.

Unfortunately, summertime television offerings in Australia are generally sports related and more specifically Cricket related. Each day I'd put the television on and find there was nothing except Cricket, Cricket, Cricket. Nearly five years had passed since my initial introduction to the game, and I'd learned a lot more about the rules, the rivalries and the players (not willingly mind you). I still wasn't a huge fan of the game, but at least I could make heads or tails of what was going on...kind of. So there I'd sit, on our couch in the heat, and watch a bit of the Cricket. Ten or twenty minutes later, I would be fast asleep. I slept for hours at a time with the Cricket in the background. The commentators quietly discussing the play and forever replaying vision of the one and only wicket that had been taken in the last four hours.

The days went on and on in the same fashion. No sleep at night, outings in the morning and Cricket in the afternoon. The Handsome Australian would return home from work and find me fast asleep in front of the Cricket. He was always keen to see how Australia was faring in the Test and would watch more of the match while we ate our dinner. I'd bring him up to speed on the day's play as I'd subconsciously heard it replayed dozens and dozens of times during my nap. He couldn't believe how much I knew. I was naming players, talking about batting averages and throwing in an LBW or two. This lead him to doubt the results of an ultrasound that indicated we were having a girl and he began to predict I was indeed carrying a boy--a son that would play Cricket.

I knew the truth, though. I needed the Cricket. It was the only way I could sleep. I needed to hear the quiet commentary and the sudden bursts of enthusiasm from the crowd. This little cocktail was my key to a few hours of rest. The more I watched, or slept through, the Cricket, the more involved I became in the game itself.

This was an important time for Australia as they were about to bid goodbye to one of their most successful Test Captains in history, Steve Waugh. I'd watched him all summer. He was an excellent batsman and had a very calm and cool demeanour on the field. He had a rugged handsomeness to him and a penchant for sentimentality--wearing the same baggy green cap for his entire career. He was a very likable character. I was very hormonal. I got sucked in.

So there I found myself on the edge of my seat as Steve Waugh took to the pitch of the SCG on the 6th of January 2004 as the Aussies faced a formidable Indian side. I hung on every ball bowled. Each time he had a crack with his bat, I cheered along. When he was caught out by Sachin Tendulkar for 80 runs, I cried. This was the end of an era in Australian Test Cricket history. The Australians ended up losing the Test to India, but it didn't matter because this was Steve's day. His teammates carried him on their shoulders for a lap of honour around the field and I cried some more. I never realised it was going to be so hard to say goodbye to Steve.

Never before and never since have I watched the Cricket as intently as I did that summer. My love affair with Cricket was a brief one, but the knowledge I gained has served me well ever since. Not to mention the respect from the Handsome Australian who was very jealous I got to see Waugh's last innings live and is still amazed to this day when he's got the Cricket on and I come along and remark, "Gee, that Billy Bowden. What a funny little umpire he is. Glad to see they put Stuart Clark back in the side. He might be just the answer we need to retain the Ashes." Then I cuddle up beside him on the couch and fall into a deep, deep sleep.

About the Cricket...

Australians are a sport loving people. True to his nationality, the Handsome Australian loves sports. He really loves any sport that's going, but among his favourites are Aussie Rules Football and Cricket. I'd say these are the two sports he follows the closest and the ones that the children and I are subjected to watching most frequently.

In another life (before he married an American girl) the Handsome Australian was actually a talented Cricket player. He played with the same club throughout his youth and, if you believe the braggings of a proud father, was asked at some stage to play for Victoria. Turns out the Handsome Australian wasn't involved in Cricket for the fame and fortune--he just liked playing the game and wasn't interested in taking it any further than his local club. So play on he did, filling his summer weekends with bats, balls and beers.

When I first turned up in Australia, the Handsome Australian was still very much involved in his Cricket club. His weekends were consumed with matches and I was left to entertain myself. At some stage, I decided I should take an interest in his Cricket playing and attend some of his matches in a show of support. So I organised to have one of the Handsome Australian's Handsome brothers deliver me to the Cricket pitch one Saturday morning to see my man play. To his credit, the Handsome Australian's brother tried to warn me.

Handsome Australian's Brother: "Are you sure you really want to go and watch a match? Grass growing is often more interesting than Cricket ya know."

Me: "It can't be that bad, it's probably a bit like baseball. I'm sure it will be interesting. Besides, it will be nice to see him play."

HAB: "Okay, look I'll drop you off, but I'm coming back in an hour or so just in case you change your mind. That way you won't be stuck here all day."

Me: "If you insist, but I'm sure I'll be fine to watch the whole match."

HAB: "You do realise the match won't be finished until TOMORROW afternoon right?"

Me: "Um, yeah, tomorrow, yeah. Look just drop me off, I'll be fine."

I got out of the car wondering what the heck I'd signed myself up for. As I made my way over to the Cricket pitch I noticed something straight away. There were NO SPECTATORS!!! Absolutely no one was watching this game besides the players from each team that weren't currently on the field. I imagined a small crowd of people would be gathered and I'd be able to meet and chat to a few of them. No such luck. Not only that, I was probably the only female in a 10km radius. I felt totally out of place.

As I approached the club house, some of the boys took notice of my presence and asked if they could help me with anything. Our conversation went something like this:

Cricket Dude: "Hi there. Can I help ya find something?"

Me: "Oh I'm just here to watch HA play."

CD: "Oh, righto. You must be that American bird he was telling us about."

Me: American bird? Huh? What had he told them? "Yes, I guess that's me."

CD: "Well there he is. He's out there bowling at the moment. He just took a wicket before, but you missed that."

Me: Not recognising the foreign language being spoken to me "I see. Is that a good thing?"

The entire group of boys laughs.

CD: "They don't play a lot of Cricket in America do they?"

Me: "No, no they don't"

CD: "That's not obvious at all."

More laughter from the boys

Me: Laughing nervously. If you can't beat them join them I thought. "Yes, I clearly have a lot to learn. Now if you'll excuse me, I think I'll just go and sit in the shade of that tree and see what I can glean."

Oh my God I thought, what kind of boy's club was this? I sat under the tree watching balls being bowled back and forth, back and forth and the Handsome Australian took another wicket or two. Although I had no appreciation for what that meant at the time. Then, after awhile, I heard the toot of a car horn from the car park and looked up to see the Handsome Australian's brother waving to me. I got up and literally ran to his car. I'd had enough of this rubbish to last a lifetime.

HAB: "So what'da think?"

ME: "What a colossal waste of time! And those guys--they are a bit rude really."

HAB: "I tried to warn you."

ME: "I know, I'll take your advice much more seriously the next time."

HAB: "What'da wanna do now?"

ME: "I think I need a stiff drink."

HAB: "Now, that, that is a good idea."

Off we went to the pub to try and erase the memories of my one hour foray into the world of Cricket. It wasn't until much, much later that I actually began to appreciate the game...

(Did I just say 'appreciate the game'? Uh oh, this can't be good)