A Healthy Dose of Cricket (One Sixty-Two: Day 31)

Writer’s note: One Sixty-Two is a season-long series of blog posts connecting baseball’s major-league players to life’s universal themes. Just as there are 162 games in a season, so there will be 162 posts in this series. Let’s play some ball.

Day Thirty-One: Scott Rolen, Cincinnati Reds

We were eating ice cream last night in a playground near our home, and in the ballfield next to the playground more than a dozen men were playing cricket. The men had turned the area between home plate and the pitcher’s mound into the traditional cricket “pitch,” and they had wickets posted at either end. They had the traditional cricket bats and ball, and were well into their game by the time we peered through the chain-link fence.

My girls and their cousins were captivated by the game, as they’d never seen it before. Everything about it was foreign to them – the rules, the equipment, the movements, and the Middle-Eastern language being spoken on the field. Some of the players wore T-shirts and shorts, some wore long-sleeve shirts and pants, while others wore official-looking cricket uniforms. They spread out around the field in their positions as bowlers, wicketkeepers, fielders and batters.

I have learned bits and pieces about cricket over the years, but I still don’t have a full grasp of the rules. Last night, what stood out most to me was how well the fielders could catch that leather ball with their bare hands. I’m used to catching (or dropping) well-hit balls with a big, leather glove. But as these men handled fly balls and grounders with nothing but their hands, I was more than a bit impressed.

It reminded me of Cincinnati Reds third baseman Scott Rolen, who is the best at making barehanded plays in baseball these days. To watch Rolen field a slow roller with his right hand, whip the ball sidearm to first, and nab that runner by a half-step is a thing of beauty. But I imagine even Rolen would have a hard time grabbing some of those hits on the cricket field.

One of my former students conducted a class presentation on cricket a few years ago, and she brought her stepfather, who is from Pakistan, into school to help teach us the game. The students were fascinated, as they found themselves learning sport and culture at the same time. In 2010, America could use a lot more of that. As tensions and words unsaid create walls between individuals from different backgrounds, a little sharing of traditions and pastimes might do us a world of good.

Perhaps if we’re at the playground again and I see a cricket game under way, I’ll introduce myself. While I’m at it, I can introduce my girls as well. A connection between cultures might go well with ice cream. And, just maybe, I might learn how to make one of those bare-handed catches.