Hubster was extremely excited last night because it seems his beloved England has won some sort of urn that might or might not be the final resting place of a bit of dust. It's a big deal, I was told.
"Don't you remember how exciting it was when we won back The Ashes in 2005 after over 20 years of them being in Australia?"
A little Wiki research later and I've come to understand that England and Australia have been having cricket matches over this soot carrying urn since the 1880s. Roughly every 2 years the two teams get together for a 5 day test match that includes lunch and tea (it should for 5 days,) bright white uniforms with strange red stains on them, and fabulous hats. Now, I've been warned by a reliable source that Wikipedia is not a reliable source so I'll take the comment about cricket being more amazing than baseball with a grain of salt.
Come on. Cricket? Better than baseball? In this Ashes thing, England is playing for an imaginary urn of cinders against the same team every single time. Whereas with baseball, all the teams in the US are playing for the WORLD series! In my book, being the best team in the world (even if the competition only comes from your country) is miles more exciting than dust.
Ok, yes. There's more to these games than just the prize, bien entendu. Hence why slugging warm beers in the bleacher seats next to some guy named Paul, who keeps yelling, "GO O's" in a strong, strong, strong, "Bawlmer" accent, really is like being part of poetry in motion. I haven't had the luck to partake of a proper cricket match, but the idea of sitting in the sun sipping Pimm's singing "God Save the Queen" while jeering the Ozzies does have an element of class that, I must admit, appeals to me in the same way.
Even if what I'm hoping they win is a pile of stuff that looks like it came out of my vaccum cleaner.