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showAuth({"version":"1.0","encoding":"UTF-8","entry":{"xmlns":"http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom","xmlns$blogger":"http://schemas.google.com/blogger/2008","xmlns$georss":"http://www.georss.org/georss","xmlns$gd":"http://schemas.google.com/g/2005","xmlns$thr":"http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0","id":{"$t":"tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-708938817000327103.post-6313871103209490994"},"published":{"$t":"2013-07-18T21:12:00.000+09:30"},"updated":{"$t":"2015-07-23T00:17:59.477+09:30"},"category":[{"scheme":"http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#","term":"Columns"}],"title":{"type":"text","$t":""},"content":{"type":"html","$t":"\u003Cdiv class=\"separator\" style=\"clear: both; text-align: center;\"\u003E\n\u003Ca href=\"http:\/\/2.bp.blogspot.com\/-WXhcoCrfwmc\/UrLoO3w2ugI\/AAAAAAAAA0Q\/yJGCuyZKHtY\/s1600\/port-col-cricket.jpg\" imageanchor=\"1\" style=\"margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;\"\u003E\u003Cimg border=\"0\" src=\"http:\/\/2.bp.blogspot.com\/-WXhcoCrfwmc\/UrLoO3w2ugI\/AAAAAAAAA0Q\/yJGCuyZKHtY\/s1600\/port-col-cricket.jpg\" \/\u003E\u003C\/a\u003E\u003C\/div\u003E\n\u003Cbr \/\u003E\nA STRANGE and unnatural thing happened to me on Tuesday night: I saw the cricket wasn’t on TV, and I groaned. WITH DISPLEASURE.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\n\u003Cbr \/\u003E\nIt’s true that I was watching Mark Burnett’s \u003Ci\u003EThe Bible\u003C\/i\u003E at the time, so I could probably be forgiven for this sudden slip into sports-appreciation. Watch God smite Sodom and Gomorrah with CGI special effects for long enough and even the most ardent sports avoider will start praying for some man-onman action. So to speak.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\n\u003Cbr \/\u003E\nI’d be inclined to write the whole incident off as a onetime lapse in concentration, if something similar hadn’t\u003Cbr \/\u003E\nhappened just last week.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\n\u003Cbr \/\u003E\n\u003Ca name='more'\u003E\u003C\/a\u003EIt was Thursday night. I’d just completed the fifth cycle through of the TV channels to determine that nothing good was on - the equivalent of opening the fridge and staring into it, hoping food has appeared since the last time you checked.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\n\u003Cbr \/\u003E\nSuddenly my finger slipped and I found myself watching what appeared to be an incredibly dull movie set in a park, where everybody wore the same costume and nobody said anything.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\n\u003Cbr \/\u003E\n‘‘Wow, \u003Ci\u003EKath and Kimderella \u003C\/i\u003Ereally is as unfunny as everyone said,’’ I thought, before realising I was, in fact, watching the Ashes.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\n\u003Cbr \/\u003E\nBut here’s the strange part: I didn’t turn it off.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\n\u003Cbr \/\u003E\nTo clarify: I saw cricket happening on my television, and I didn’t automatically change the channel.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\n\u003Cbr \/\u003E\nFor people who know me, this is a stunning admission, as I have an extremely low tolerance for sport of any\u003Cbr \/\u003E\nkind, especially cricket, which has always seemed about as exciting to me as watching a live telecast of a knitting group’s weekly meeting (‘‘Oh no, Edna’s dropped a stitch - let’s see if we can pick that up on the\u003Cbr \/\u003E\nslow-motion replay!’’).\u003Cbr \/\u003E\n\u003Cbr \/\u003E\nThe last time I remember actually watching cricket was about 10 years ago when my mum was writing a book about it, and as I was living with her I was forced to watch every minute of whatever match was on.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\n\u003Cbr \/\u003E\nEven with that sort of exposure therapy it didn’t really take - the strongest memory I have of that period is not of an amazing catch or wicket, but of a particular sandwich I was enamoured with at the time, which I’ve\u003Cbr \/\u003E\nsince forgotten how to make.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\n\u003Cbr \/\u003E\nMan, I loved that sandwich.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\n\u003Cbr \/\u003E\nAnyway there I was last week, watching the cricket, and actually enjoying it. Australia had only one wicket to go (or however you’re supposed to say it) and a teenager I’d never heard of was in the middle of creating\u003Cbr \/\u003E\na new sporting legend.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\n\u003Cbr \/\u003E\nAs I found out later, pretty much no one had ever heard of Ashton Agar, so I wasn’t as clueless as I thought I was, which made me feel even better about my new found cricket appreciation.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\n\u003Cbr \/\u003E\nI was riveted, captivated, tense on the edge of my seat ... and then they called lunch and everyone wandered off and the commentators started talking about the weather.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\n\u003Cbr \/\u003E\nWhat kind of sport has a lunch break? Well frankly, MY kind of sport. I respect a game that allows for a civilised break for tea and sandwiches. Mmm, sandwiches.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\n\u003Cbr \/\u003E\nThe only problem with this civilised break is that it came about 10pm Adelaide time, which is not only a highly inappropriate time to eat lunch, but a terrible time to have to watch an empty lawn for 40 minutes when what you really want to do is see Australia win and then go to bed.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\n\u003Cbr \/\u003E\nMy new interest in the sport didn’t quite stretch to that level of commitment, so I retired to the bedroom intending to catch up with the news in the morning.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\n\u003Cbr \/\u003E\nBut half an hour later, as if bewitched, I found myself eagerly scrolling through the #AshtonAgar tweets on\u003Cbr \/\u003E\nTwitter and shouting, ‘‘Come on!’’ and ‘‘You can do it Ashton!’’, and then finally ‘‘OUT FOR 98,WHAT\u003Cbr \/\u003E\nTHE \u0026amp;*%$?’’\u003Cbr \/\u003E\n\u003Cbr \/\u003E\nSo we lost the first Test.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\n\u003Cbr \/\u003E\nThen this week there were stunning allegations that everyone on the team hates each other and everything\u003Cbr \/\u003E\nis falling apart.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\n\u003Cbr \/\u003E\nSo basically, I took an active interest in the cricket for the first time in well, ever, and immediately it all went to hell.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\n\u003Cbr \/\u003E\nI know you cricket fans are a superstitious lot, so you might as well blame me. I’m fairly certain it’s my new interest in the sport that’s jinxed the team.\u003Cbr \/\u003E\n\u003Cbr \/\u003E\nMaybe I should start supporting England?\u003Cbr \/\u003E\n\u003Cbr \/\u003E\n\u003Ci\u003EFirst published in The Advertiser, July 18, 2013\u003C\/i\u003E"},"link":[{"rel":"edit","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http:\/\/www.blogger.com\/feeds\/708938817000327103\/posts\/default\/6313871103209490994"},{"rel":"self","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http:\/\/www.blogger.com\/feeds\/708938817000327103\/posts\/default\/6313871103209490994"},{"rel":"alternate","type":"text/html","href":"http:\/\/www.petrastarke.com\/2001\/12\/a-strange-and-unnatural-thing-happened.html","title":""}],"author":[{"name":{"$t":"Unknown"},"email":{"$t":"noreply@blogger.com"},"gd$image":{"rel":"http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail","width":"16","height":"16","src":"https:\/\/img1.blogblog.com\/img\/b16-rounded.gif"}}],"media$thumbnail":{"xmlns$media":"http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/","url":"http:\/\/2.bp.blogspot.com\/-WXhcoCrfwmc\/UrLoO3w2ugI\/AAAAAAAAA0Q\/yJGCuyZKHtY\/s72-c\/port-col-cricket.jpg","height":"72","width":"72"}}});