Grand final of cricket tomorrow. So much of my life, and even happiness, has seemed linked to sporting outcomes. I used to go and watch Richmond and scream over the fence as if my efforts made a big difference to the outcome. Even more ridiculous, I used to do the same if I was watching them on television.
Tomorrow’s script is as yet unwritten. At the end of the day, 11 guys are going to be pretty disappointed while 11 others will be rapturous. As an opening bowler, I love the feeling of standing at the top of my run up, with the new batsman standing in readiness. Once the day is over, a result will be recorded with no amount of wishing or regret able to change it in the least but, at that point in the day, its all in our hands. So much hope and trust in these feeble arms, these rickety legs. I know I’m only 32, but it seems to make more sense to become aware of my mortality now, whilst I can use that perspective to enjoy my physical freedom, than to deny it until its irrevocably upon me.
To examine my sporting obsession beyond my own participation, I’ve been asked many times why I greatly admire someone like Shane Warne who has so many obvious personality flaws. My response has been, roughly, that it provides something like hope to see someone who can be such a dope and yet who can also rise to overcome the greatest minds and bodies in his chosen sporting field to deliver a nation. Plastic heroes are no good to me because they don’t tell me anything about who I am, but I can relate to a flawed hero. Take away the game and you still have qualities which are transferrable - perseverance, creativity, discipline, intuition - though I’d rather have a reverse Warnie and have the qualities in my private life than on the sporting field.
Anyway, we’ll know more tomorrow but I wanted to post something on this topic because its meant a lot to me.
Edit: Well, that was rather an anti-climax, we were rained out that Saturday! Another week now until we know.