The cricket season is now under way (didn't you notice rthe terrible weather?) so I thought that it was time to explain the rules of the game.
Playing The Game
We’re all very friendly here, you’ll find, we’d like you
to join in with our game.
There’s just a few very simple rules: to misunderstand
would be such a shame.
First you must dress in the correct rig: shirt, jumper
and flannels all white,
So you can be seen out there on the green - anything else
just wouldn’t be right.
It’s quite safe, but you’ll need precautions: helmet, bat,
pads and a cricketer’s box,
Cause the bowlers can bowl pretty sharpish, and the ball
is as hard as a rock.
Now first you go ”in” and stand at the crease - your main
job is not to get “out”,
And if you manage to hit the ball, run to the other end
with a heck of a shout.
There’s another chap “in” at the same time, so try not to
get in each other’s way,
Keep crossing in the middle as you run, and try to keep
batting all day.
It can be fraught if you get caught, and your hands can
get pretty sore.
Don’t be lumped with those that get stumped, and don’t be
trapped Leg Before.
It can get rich, out there on the pitch - it’s flat,
there’s no grass and no clover,
But you needn’t have doubt, you’re not given “out” even
when the umpire shouts “over!”
If you’ve been bowled, you’ll surely be told, by a mad bowler
who’s pitching short,
By a fat porker sending down a plumb Yorker, or a daisy-cutter
that’s caught.
Don’t be yielding to athletic fielding, and remember: Third
Man’s theirs, Twelfth Man’s ours,
Better get wise to no-balls and byes, then keep your bat
straight for hours and hours.
Ride on your luck and don’t go for a duck, stroke it
through the covers with care,
Don’t do a dance when you get your second chance, and on
no account go for a pair.
Try to bestride, out on the leg-side; beware Gully, Point
and Silly Mid-on,
And if the ball nips through to their Slips, they could
enforce the Follow-on.
They’ll be vermillion, back there in the pavilion, if you
don’t watch the bowler’s arm laden.
A spinner or seamer, or left-arm dreamer, could easily bowl
over a maiden.
You have the right to ask for the light, or get them to
shift the Sight-Screen.
You can be curt, or even retire hurt when the pickings
have become rather lean.
When at your best, you can take a short rest, by holding
up the non-batting end,
And when you cut free, the game stops for tea, and if it
rains, the game they’ll suspend.
Your skipper might be a nipper, but he’ll be daring and
never be scared.
You might be still out there and swinging, but you might
find the total’s “declared”.
Have not a doubt, you’re now clearly “out”, and you’ll
find that you have to yield.
It’s now time you tried to bowl out other side, and start
your session out in the field.
Sometimes it’s seen, that weather can intervene, so
Duckworth-Lewis is brought into play:
It sets up new targets for scoring - how it works, really
no-one can say.
But that only catches the very short matches: - it would
never do for a Test score.
It’s the only game one plays for up to five days, where
the result can still be a draw.
So there you go, there’s little more to know, you’ll pick
it up pretty quickish.
It says everything about our nation; it’s the key to
being British.
At the end of every inning, if you’re still winning, or
if you’ve taken every wicket,
Your own eleven will be in Wisden’s heaven, and you’ll finally
understand cricket.
Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2012
