Althouse: "Left-armer! Wicket-scalper! Chase-scupperer! Slip-catcher! Stump-knocker! Blinder-player! Ahead-of-the-asking-rate-keeper!"

September 25, 2007

"Left-armer! Wicket-scalper! Chase-scupperer! Slip-catcher! Stump-knocker! Blinder-player! Ahead-of-the-asking-rate-keeper!"

"[T]here is nothing in sports journalism more delicious than reading cricket news when you know hardly anything about cricket."

7 comments:

AllenS said...: Years ago, I had a conversation with a man from England, who told me that he was in a storm where the hail was the size of crickett balls. I said that I wasn't impressed.; 9/25/07, 9:29 AM
Trooper York said...: “I tend to think that cricket is the greatest thing that God ever created on earth - certainly greater than sex, although sex isn't too bad either”
Harold Pinter; 9/25/07, 10:00 AM
Ann Althouse said...: "Years ago, I had a conversation with a man from England, who told me that he was in a storm where the hail was the size of crickett balls. I said that I wasn't impressed"

LOL. Well, at least they were bigger than mosquito balls.; 9/25/07, 10:27 AM
Trooper York said...: steve simels said...
Wow. As I've said before, the nudge-nudge wink-wink racism around here is a wonder to behold.

I quite agree. The use of thinly veiled racial epithets is an abomination. This blatant racism against our pasty faced, crumpet sucking cousins from across the pond will not be tolerated.; 9/25/07, 11:30 AM
AllenS said...: I hate mosquitos. Ever notice, they fly around all of the time with little hard-ons. Then, they try and nail you in places that never give you pleasure. What's up with that?; 9/25/07, 5:32 PM
Unknown said...: Aah! The greatest team sport on earth. Thanks, Ms. Althouse.; 9/25/07, 11:33 PM
PeterP said...: MCC - you are nominated, sponsored and accepted onto the waiting list. You then wait between ten and twenty years depending on your connections.

Finally you are a member and thence entitled to sit on some of the hardest seating in Christendom to watch your cricket, in a club house hosting the greatest collection of terrible portraiture ever assembled in one place.

You may eat a pork chop to break your teeth on, wear a tie of garish hue and risk social, professional and personal death if found in the seat reserved for the Governor of the Bank of England or other national treasure.

If, though, you can survive all that then you have the singular privilege of being permitted to take your afternoon nap in the greatest place on God's earth: the front terrace of the Pavilion at Lord's. (You might possibly die from being struck on the head by a straight six while you rest, but then you go straight to heaven - Rule 47.2)

Makes me so proud to be British.; 9/26/07, 1:31 PM