Sport played in Cornwall every Sunday
You don’t have to visit another country to watch a cricket match. There’s a game at Laurel Crest Park in Cornwall every Sunday morning.
I was curious enough to attend the May 9 contest.
This is my impression of what I saw. It’s not a recitation of the rules, but the way the game looked to an outsider.
The players have adapted the skinless infield of a softball diamond for their weekly game. The batter stands where third base would normally be. Behind him are three wickets and a catcher with gloves on both hands. The cricket bat looks like a fraternity house paddle, except that it’s thicker.
The pitcher gets a running start in the outfield and releases the ball near three other wickets, where you would normally see second base. Most of the time, the batter makes contact.
On Sunday morning, there were 12 fielders. Most of them were in the outfield. And some were standing in what would be foul territory if we were playing softball.
When the ball is hit, the batter appears to have a choice. He can run to the other set of wickets or he can remain in place. If he decides to run, he carries the bat with him. The fielders don’t try to tag him.
They try to throw the ball and knock over the wickets before the batter arrives.
It doesn’t happen very often. Outs are infrequent, and there’s a huge celebration every time they occur.
Each time a batter advances it counts as a run. Innings are long. At Sunday’s game, I watched a team bat for a half hour and score close to 50 runs. The same two or three people kept getting up. Their teammates were content to watch.
On occasion, a man on the sidelines would announce the score. No one in the field challenged him. And I certainly wouldn’t question his count. I lost track soon after I arrived.
A few hits went beyond the cones that marked the far reaches of the outfield. I suspect that these balls were out of play rather than the equivalent of a baseball home run.
The inning finally ended on a pitch that bounced past the batter and knocked over the wickets behind him.
While players on both sides were reacting, I slipped into my car and headed home.
Cricket was as confusing to me, as baseball might be to someone who was visiting the United States. The cricket players welcomed me, when I arrived, and then concentrated on the game. They seemed to be having a good time.
