Oh what irresistible fun the 20 20 match turned out to be the other night. What an inane giggly joy it brought about and sustained (for at least 23 or 24 overs out of the 40). How splendid the Australians looked in their grey or gun metal or … hell the uniforms were SILVER. The intense moment of joy when one realises it actually says MARTO on the back of Marto‘s shirt, or PUNTER on Punter‘s… the intrigue of trying to discover who SARFRAZ really is, or the daytime identity of the cleverly disguised MR CRICKET…
I think it’s the same or a similiar joy (as least quantatively) to the one Punter antcipates so earnestly in the field (the joy of the sharp piece of fielding, the direct hit or the impossibly quick snare). This adrenalin filled anticipation was made palpable by the superb socio/psychological experiment carried out by Channel 9 whereby the team’s captains were wired for sound and briefly at points throughout the commentary were asked to answer questions from the commentating team. Ponting was prowling about like a hungry tiger bouncing up and down and walking backwards and forwards and in cirlces, waiting for the ball to be delivered and something great to happen, talking at 160 km/hr.
The only disappointment of the evening was that Ice Cold 3000 didn’t get to play. It was unfathomable really, the high drama of 20 20 would seem perfect for a player with Nel’s professional theatrical experience. He should have at least had a mic, and a camera following whatever sneaky, dastardly tricks he was getting up to while everyone else was thoroughly distracted by the game.