I headed off to the World Cup T20 cricket match between South Africa and the West Indies for my first experience of live cricket yesterday evening.
Despite leaving early, we sat in traffic for ages. Eventually we reached the Corlett Drive turnoff only to be told that that section of the road had just that minute been closed off. I wouldn’t have bothered mentioning this but Ali Bacher was in the car next to us and he was not being let through by the Metro cops either! We thought he’d definitely be someone who could drive right up to the stadium and slip into an allocated parking bay. (Click here to view Google hybrid map to Wanderers Stadium)
We finally found parking several kilometres away and joined the masses walking to the Wanderers. There were no hold-ups entering the stadium, not even at the tables where they searched our cooler bags for illicit substances like cold drinks. Organisation and crowd control definitely scored 10 out of 10.
Our contraband of Coke and Sprite (we didn’t know you weren’t allowed to bring them in) unintentionally made it past the security checks and we managed to sip on them surreptiously during the game. (I really hate that you cannot bring your own cold drinks into the stadium and are forced to buy a limited range from the appointed vendors. I like what I like and I don’t think anyone should have the right to force me to drink something else. Corporate greed taken too far is what I think.)
Back to the cricket…we walked all the way around the stadium and headed for our seats. I was determined to enjoy my first international cricket match – until I saw our seats.
I was slightly dismayed at first to see I would be sitting on a grandstand and not an actual chair, and was even more dismayed when I realised that I was going to be leaning against the legs of the person behind me and the person in front of me was going to be doing the same to me.
By the time the grandstand filled up, we were crammed in like passengers in a rush-hour minibus taxi. Five hours of sitting like this was no joke. Everyone in the grandstands jumped up and cheered at every opportunity just to get their blood circulation going again.
Apparently the game was great but I didn’t realise this because I was entering the third phase of this shocking experience…
The teams came onto the field and started to play. They looked like little green and maroon matchstick men and I had no idea who was who. There was no zooming in to see the tension on the various faces. No nice replays to see what had happened when I was looking elsewhere. No commentary to let me know what was going on. No convenient information bar on the screen, just below the players, to let me know the score and the required run rate.
Sure they have all the game info on the big screens at the stadium but that involves looking away from the game to see the screen, which means of course that something happens on the field and all the grandstandees leap up to unnumb their compressed bums and legs.
Next were the endless breaks in play while umpires made decisions and players fiddled with their equipment. Seeing as there was no speculative commentary or interesting close up headshots of the teams, my gaze would wonder over the crowd.
Enviously I eyed the spectators sitting comfortably in their boxes, while I waited for the action to start. Minutes later I would glance down at the matchstick men and realise that they had resumed play ages ago and we were an over or two further along in the game.
The bloody ball was also impossible to keep track of. I’d hear the wack of wood against ball and see the fielders tearing off to some far flung corner and just as the ball was caught, I’d finally manage to locate it. Give me a nice camera shot following the ball on TV any day. Needless to say, my family wrote me off as a complete philistine while they roared their approval of their team.
They love watching the game live saying it gives them a sense of the whole game (I need the commentary for this). They say it’s great to see all the field placings at once (big deal) and to know where all your favourite players are (the TV does this for you perfectly). They also love the atmosphere and the crowd support for the SA boys (I can’t deny this). Being at the stadium we also got to see some poor streaker make it 20 metres out onto the pitch before a burly gang of officials leapt on him and dragged him off (TV viewers didn’t get to see this).
Tonight watching the Zimbabweans playing the Australians was much more my can of Sprite. I lay on my back on the couch, my legs stretched as far as I possibly could. The commentators’ voices were music to my ears, and the close up shots of the players and that elusive ball were a dream come true. If only I had had this yesterday, when Chris Gayle and Herschelle Gibbs were smacking balls all over the place.
I harped on for ages about how this was the way to watch cricket, while my husband and kids stared disdainfully at me. When it started raining I gloated some more about being warm and dry and stretched further out on my couch. When play resumed the mood lightened as we watch breathlessly, hoping that the Zimbabweans would come through and beat the Aussies.
My gloating came back to haunt me though as the link between the Cape Town studio and the main TV studio went down and crucial moments of play involving the Zimbabwean’s up-set victory were lost. I kept very quiet as dark resentful eyes glared at me…
Photo credits
Clare van Zwieten
Watching the cricket on TV is nowhere near as exciting as watching it live! The TV producers focus only on the ball, ignoring all the other aspects that make cricket such a great game to watch.
Watching the ball race across a small square of green, not knowing how far it is from the boundary, whether the sweeper will get to it in time, whether a sweeper is even in place… in fact where is this piece of green grass anyway?
Focusing on just one small part of the game, the coverage ignores all the other action: field placing, umpire signals, chatting and sledging, imfringements and obstructions, and of course the crowds.
The TV coverage doesn’t do justice to the importance of the whole crowd experience and atmosphere that makes cricket the greatest game on earth. So what if you rub knees and shoulders, and that the guy with six pints down is shouting “Sit down, I can’t see!” or that the guys in front of you are more interested in participating in the (abortive) Mexican wave than in the next crucial ball. So what? It sure beats SABC losing their feed from Cape Town for 9 overs.
Now if only Liberty Life Wanderers could do something about the parking…
Watching cricket on TV is way more boring than watching it live. On TV you have advert breaks and you are constanly watching replays of everything that you miss half of the over. Yet there is a positive side to watching cricket on TV… When you have gone out for the day on a cricket match that you felt was particualry important to you, you can watch the highlights on TV and still get your friends to believe that you were actually there.
Chiao
Helokity
;-}
I’m not much of a cricket fan.. scrap that.. sport fan. The only sports i’ve really gotten into lately is Wii sports. Yes, it sounds sad.. but its a great workout 🙂
Nicely written and easy to read…..but I think you have to toughen up or drink more.
I think I’ll go the drink more route and on my couch too!
this is the most interesting cricket article I have ever read – but stick to the couc h. Be grateful you were not in england or ireland at a soccer match – you have to stand in the rain… your facilities at the cricket seemed like luxury