The Indian subcontinent has gone cricket mad since the start of the World Cup and I'm no exception. I've been spending a great deal of my spare time in a despicably unhygienic fried rice shop down the road from my house; which is the location of my local tellybox. I have to answer a lot of questions and it is becoming more and more difficult to nurse my portion of rice for 5 hours an innings, but it's still worth it.
The fact that India have been handed the right to host both the Commonwealth Games and the Cricket World Cup within one year represents both a fantastic achievement for the country as well as completely mystifying decision-making on behalf of the organisers. Personally, I wouldn't let this country organise my breakfast. The amount of bureaucracy that exists even at the lowest level is ridiculous and, I'd imagine, makes it impossible to organise something of this scale properly.
It was, therefore, unsurprising when the Eden Gardens stadium in Kolkata wasn't declared ready in time. Even their pleas of 'just 5 more minutes' weren't good enough on this occasion. Luckily for me, the match was moved to Bangalore and I had booked some time off this week to do a bit of travelling. So, after popping to a quick arranged marriage on Friday, I set off to Bangalore with the intention of bagging myself a ticket to the India vs England game on Sunday. There I met an acquaintance from the University of Leeds, a guy called 'Nosebleed' from Norwich (he used to have Nosebleeds a lot. Nothing more to it) and his friend who shall only be known as 'The German Michael Owen'.
The atmosphere around the stadium was fairly toxic, with the Indian police seeming worryingly keen to start smacking us with their sticks. To cut a short story even shorter, we didn't manage to secure any tickets. We couldn't afford the 140 quid to see our heroes in action so we made our way to the local bar to watch the game. And what a match. The draw was a fair result and meant everyone went home happy, especially as the match should probably have no bearing on the tournament as a whole. Towards the end of the match, myself and Nosebleed were approached by some documentary makers from Mumbai to film an interview with us sitting and chatting "naturally at the bar". 'Beyond all Boundaries' should be released later this year and features us wearing Palace and Norwich shirts whilst talking a whole heap of shite about a sport we know very little about. Anyway, one to Googly in a couple of years time.
Crikey.
The fact that India have been handed the right to host both the Commonwealth Games and the Cricket World Cup within one year represents both a fantastic achievement for the country as well as completely mystifying decision-making on behalf of the organisers. Personally, I wouldn't let this country organise my breakfast. The amount of bureaucracy that exists even at the lowest level is ridiculous and, I'd imagine, makes it impossible to organise something of this scale properly.
It was, therefore, unsurprising when the Eden Gardens stadium in Kolkata wasn't declared ready in time. Even their pleas of 'just 5 more minutes' weren't good enough on this occasion. Luckily for me, the match was moved to Bangalore and I had booked some time off this week to do a bit of travelling. So, after popping to a quick arranged marriage on Friday, I set off to Bangalore with the intention of bagging myself a ticket to the India vs England game on Sunday. There I met an acquaintance from the University of Leeds, a guy called 'Nosebleed' from Norwich (he used to have Nosebleeds a lot. Nothing more to it) and his friend who shall only be known as 'The German Michael Owen'.
The atmosphere around the stadium was fairly toxic, with the Indian police seeming worryingly keen to start smacking us with their sticks. To cut a short story even shorter, we didn't manage to secure any tickets. We couldn't afford the 140 quid to see our heroes in action so we made our way to the local bar to watch the game. And what a match. The draw was a fair result and meant everyone went home happy, especially as the match should probably have no bearing on the tournament as a whole. Towards the end of the match, myself and Nosebleed were approached by some documentary makers from Mumbai to film an interview with us sitting and chatting "naturally at the bar". 'Beyond all Boundaries' should be released later this year and features us wearing Palace and Norwich shirts whilst talking a whole heap of shite about a sport we know very little about. Anyway, one to Googly in a couple of years time.
Crikey.
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