As a casual observer of wild dogs soon gathers, the true leader of the pack is mute. The wannabes, the hangers-on, the sycophants – they’re the yappy ones. Noise, noise, noise – all bluff and precious little bite.
And so another cricket season descends; I can tell from all the hot air drifting south from Brisbane earlier this week courtesy of a couple of Australian pace bowlers who feel they have to squawk more than bowl to get results.
Cricket has given me and millions of others more pleasure, excitement, involvement, distraction and exercise than we know what to do with. Genuine fans feel a sense of curatorship about the game; even if we peaked in fourth grade in the Southeast Berkshire League 20 years ago, we care about how cricket is played – and portrayed.
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