During the ICC WCC 2015 (cricket World Cup, short version lol), my dad and his friends–some of whom are my friends’ dads and my friends as well–gathered together at each other’s houses whenever their team, the old, lazy, out-of-shape team of none other than the one and only Pakistan, would play. Pakistan played miserably for the whole ODIs (one day internationals), but my friends and I did start playing this fine sport.
It started with Yahya’s bats, plastic wickets, and plastic practice cricket balls made in (guess!) Pakistan. We’d play in his backyard when the match(es) were going slow. Then, after the World Cup was done (beautiful final ‘tween NZ and AUS, by the way), the group of “uncles” formed a cricket club. Sundays, after fajr, or dawn prayer, were to be our meets. The first day, my dad and I couldn’t make it. #desiweddingproblems. However, the second meet, we did, and my team won the first match, but lost the 2nd “match.”
Lo and behold, this sparked a newfound attraction and, at the point of being corny, love of the sport, putting it right next to hunting/shooting/archery and jiu-jitsu. Yes, above basketball and swimming. THAT high. In THAT little time (I’ve been hunting since age 5, and jiu-jitsuing for about a year).
So, after that second meet, Yahya started bringing his hard-ball bat and ball to school as well. All of the cricketing non-uncles (my friends and I) felt that cricketing once a week just wasn’t enough. So, I ordered a tape ball bat and a pack of 6 Nivia hard tennis cricket balls. And they arrived this Monday and Sunday, respectively.
And we started playing even more! It was so much fun today in school. It let out early for STAAR testing and us older grades didn’t have much to do. Then, we played after school too!
So that’s it for now. I have some super mushy thoughts swirling around my bowl of head, but I’m not sure if I want to write about them.
Till next time,