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High Altitude Cricket
Once I arrived in Kathmandu five year ago, I realized that the cable TV was not nearly as bad as I’d expected. Not that I watched TV much in those days, but it’s comforting to know that you can flick on the tube before bedtime or after bedtime, should the sheep not be jumping over the fence or the saws not be cutting the wood.
There were premium channels with good movie options—most importantly without commercials—and plenty of shows for the kids in case they got bored from drawing with their crayons. Coming from the west, I merely saw one liability with TV in Nepal: sports.
To sum it up, the only thing they would show on the tube would be cricket. And more cricket. And one more test match for Mama. And a 20/20 for Daddy. I could only resist cricket for so long until, finally, I began to watch it as well. And I do like cricket, Sam-I-am. I like it on TV, I like it as a test match, a 20/20, on a train, a plane, etc. I would be watching cricket every time before bedtime, much to Liebi’s aggravation.
On Saturday, my 44th birthday, I finally get the chance to play cricket, in the flesh, even after my body took such a beating at the La Paz Marathon. But here I will not be denied. I would have played cricket if I had worn four casts, and that’s the truth.
The leader and organizer of high altitude cricket is Aruna the Sri Lankan, and he brings several bags full of equipment: bats, gloves, helmets, leg protectors, you name it.
Nothing against batting, but from the moment I watched cricket, I always wanted to bowl (pitch in baseball). I had always watched the bowlers take their running start and hurl the balls—with the arm fully extended—toward the stumps where the batsman was posted. Kenny, an Englishman from Leeds, patiently shows me how to grip the ball and to release it with the arm straight…not the 90 degree elbow, cowboy.
To nobody’s surprise, the balls take off like a rocket at high latitude. I have already talked to golfers who've played at the golf course in nearby Mallassa, and their verdict is unanimous: golf at high altitude is certainly ‘different’. No surprise, really, considering there is less air to impede the balls’ progress. Suddenly, they are teeing up like Tiger Woods.
So if baseball players keep finding wind tunnels in Denver when playing at Coors Field in Denver, the Mile High City, imagine then what cricket balls do a mile further up! It doesn’t take long to find out.
I bowl about six overs (one over = six balls) and feel it all the way down to my back. For the most part, I do all right. I don’t make a horse’s ass out of myself and am generally in the vicinity of the stumps. There are a couple of wild ones that roll all the way to the tennis courts, but all things considered, I think I am doing all right for a first timer.
In all, there are ten players who show up, so not enough for a match but good for training. We agree that Saturday has something to do with that. People bowl and bat and catch and are clearly happy to be there. Kenny tells me he hasn’t played cricket since being a teen a long time ago.
To me, it is simply a great birthday gift. High altitude cricket. Looking forward to our next meet.
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