How could Sir Vivian Richards walk into the ground with such brutal self-confidence? Swagger to match an undefeated knight, brandishing his battle weary blade. Knowing that he could decimate the opposition and then do it. How could he do all this and yet fill the hearts of the opponent’s team and supporters with joy?
How could the Big Cat, Clive Lloyd move like a Neanderthal man dragging his club along the ground, and smash the cricket ball into a pulp.
How did Jeff Dujon and Gus Logie perfect their respective arts of keeping and fielding when these were skill just talked about?
How could the tiny islands of West Indies produce an assembly line of tall monstrously fast bowlers that one of them was considered fit to be called the Whispering death?
How did the average West Indian learn to love and celebrate his cricket the way only he does?
And how does a team like that reduce itself to a caricature of its former self?
Wither West Indies. Where art thou?
Friday, 20 April 2007
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment