Many of the social ills facing modern America could be solved with one simple thing: more cricket. Given the chance to contemplate the ebbs and flows of a match over five days, life gains a new, better perspective. The things that are truly important (i.e. beating Australia) stand out, while the ephemera of modern living fades away.
It's a long time since I was able to go to a cricket match, and my spiritual health has suffered terribly. Luckily, the home of cricket - both the country and the actual ground - is but a short underwater train ride away now, as is my friend Ellen who enjoys the game almost as much as me.
When I mentioned we could attend the first day of the summer Tests at Lord's, she jumped at the chance. Ebay made sure we were suitably attired, and so we crushed onto the underground with thousands of others to witness New Zealand take on the unstoppable English. Unstoppable in our ability to lose, given we haven't been too successful for around 20 Tests.
Lord's is actually a terrible place, with all the sickening trappings of the British class system on full display. But the fuddy-duddies who run it did make one good move, which is allowing you to bring in your own alcohol. Apparently the aristocracy wasn't happy with the selection at the Lord's bar.
Over in the cheap seats we had a great time. It was, in fact, a little too exciting, with 17 wickets falling in a day! A can of ready-mixed gin and tonic took the edge off that. Not even walking past David Cameron - and remaining very restrained - could spoil my mood. We went back to Ellen's afterwards, where my poor Goddaughter Meg had been revising all day mid-GCSEs. Then we watched the highlights, to cheer her up, but also because there's no such thing as too much cricket.
Ellen and I made it into the highlights package!!
