In a few weeks from now, one of the great sporting contests gets underway - The Ashes. Cricket's ultimate enduring rivalry. England take on Australia in Australia over 5 Test Matches, in front of a partisan, enthusiastic home crowd fuelled on beer and sunshine; eager to 'bash the poms' and armed with a sackful of witty barbs and searing insults for the closest English cricketer in their vicinity.
Proper sport. Bring it on.
What has The Ashes got to do with my upcoming cycle challenge? How can a game of cricket possibly be connected to me struggling up mountains on the way to Dublin and back?
The answer is that the Ashes are going to seriously impact on my training schedule. Given a choice between plonking myself in front of Sky Sports 1 at 3am with a fortifying cuppa and a bowl of porridge oats for five days running or getting on my bike for a 25 mile (40km) training ride in storm force winds, pouring rain and freezing temperatures, I am very worried that temptation will see me bleary-eyed at 8am and in no state physically or mentally to don the Lycra shorts and head for the hills.
Why is Australia so far away? Why do they have to play the games at such a ridiculous time (10 hours ahead of the UK)? Unfortunately, this means that the die hard England cricket fan who hasn't remortgaged their home, sold their Grandmother for medical experiments or held up the local post office in order to fund a 3 months drinking tour of Australia's finest hostelries and 25 days of test match cricket, has to struggle to stay awake in a vain effort to watch every ball bowled.
It's not as if there will be much else on the TV to keep you awake during the tea interval (about 3:30am UK time)....it's all Infomercials for stuff you don't need and Abdominal work out machines that get you ripped in 3 days with only 5 minutes gentle exercise a day. (Mmm, only £99.99...where's my credit card?).
You may inadvertently stray to channel 965 between overs whilst checking out every one of Sky's multitude of channel choices and come across some large lady, bereft of clothing, wiggling her huge jugs and looking as bored as hell waiting for some sad bloke to pick up the phone and spend £5.99 a second to talk to her. (Mmm, only £5.99 a second...where's my credit card?)
The only answer is for England and Australia to play the Ashes matches at a location midway between our countries and in a time zone that is more conducive to the daily habits of all armchair supporters. A brief glance at the map leads me to the conclusion that Kazakhstan is a strong favourite.
There has been a recent penchant at Twenty20 matches for scantily clad dancing girls on podiums to dance manically at the striking of every 4 or 6 or the fall of a wicket. A match played in Almaty, Kazakhstan could have the same idea. A collective group of Borat lookalikes in mankini's leaping into a merry jig as the ball hits the boundary rope...and their balls hit the advertising hoardings.
I apologise to my friends from Kazakhstan. I actually do have friends from Kazakhstan; former students of mine who I taught English. They are all lovely people, very genuine and kind, nothing like Borat's stereotype of ignorance and stupidity. However, they are all bemused and angry at Sascha Baron Cohen's depiction of their nation. One of my students said to me during a lesson on the 2nd Conditional (for imaginary or hypothetical situations)...
"If I met Borat, I would kill him". My response..."Er, thanks Dmitry, excellent use of the second conditional, perfect grammar...well done and I hope this remains hypothetical and you do not ever meet him". From the steely monotone and cold look in his eyes, I believed him.
Back to the cricket. It's inevitable that the cricket will get in the way of my training. It is going to be hard to tear myself away to go out for a ride when Kevin Pieterson is at the wicket, 125 not out, or Stuart Broad has Ponting's men reeling at 65 - 5. But, I have to be serious and take the opportunities to train when I can.
I will have to forsake the odd session live and catch the highlights. I will have to pass on the insightful TV commentary of Botham, Bumble and Warne for the mellifluous tones of Aggers, Vic Marks and Sir Geoffrey Boycott on Test Match Special on the radio.
I will look out the window and remark that 'the weather looks rubbish', but will force myself to get out on the bike and put the miles in.
I have to. Cricket or no cricket, 410 miles / 650 km is a long way to cycle. I need to be fit and ready for this challenge, the toughest one I have set myself. As someone once said;
'Fail to prepare, prepare to fail'. There are too many reasons why I can't allow that to happen. And I'll even try (I said try) to tear myself away from the Ashes. Promise.
No comments:
Post a Comment