..a cricket coach for Hrit. Not because I've spotted unusual talent in my son but because he just might turn into a social pariah if he doesn't pick up the game... soon. These days he's taken to playing cricket (not bat-ball, mind you) with slightly older boys and girls.
In his mind he is this invincible cricket champ that no one can defeat. Unfortunately he's way lost about the rules of the game. The other day he took the crease. The bowler came running out and raised her hand to ball... "Stop stop stop," yelled Hrit. "That's not how you ball. If you throw the ball so high how will it come to the bat? You have to throw it lower, like this (meaning: underhand bowling)." He demonstrated.
When the girl protested he got angry. They reached some kind of an understanding because the game resumed and then again I heard the kids chanting "Cheater cheater, Hrit is a cheater."
Now I know that's just not true.. Hrit can be many things nasty, but cheater he's not.
What happened, I asked.
A tearfully upset Hrit explained.. "I was taking runs and he knocked off the wicket. That's not out na
ma? The ball didn't even touch the bat." According to him a catch is the only way to be out.
"You were out of the crease," said the bowler. "What's a crease?" shot back Hrit, puzzled.
You see the extent of the problem? I tried hard to explain with my limited knowledge, then decided to rope in The Husband. Cricket doesn't really interest me unless the cricketer is handsome or we're winning the world cup, not just playing, winning.
The Husband, quintessential lazy man that he is, said, "Don't worry I'll draw out the field on a piece of paper and explain it to him." So much for practical demonstration! It was time to use the 'tedhi ungli'
so I put Hrit on the job. "Papa's a cricket champ. You must ask him to teach you," I told him. Once Hrit got the idea my job was done. Not only was he after The Husband's life I overheard him bragging to his friends too, "My father is the best 'batter' and 'baller' in the whole world."
Who can be immune to such flattery? And so come Sunday morning The Husband is off with the kids to get them a 'cricket kit' while I find some peace to blog. Cricket can't be ALL bad if it gives me some peace.