Cognitive Dissonance

In an ideal world, I would get paid to watch cricket. Actually, almost any sport. Except for basketball. Basketball is not a sport.

If I had nothing else to do except ponder the fine intricacies of leg spin bowling, I would have written something much sooner about the conclusion to the England series. Alas, I have a wife, a mortgage, and children who annoyingly insist on eating every day. So whilst I would have loved to have shared my immediate passionate thoughts on the limited overs triumph over the poms, my job had to take center stage for a while. And that really is frustrating, because trust me, the stuff I write for work is not nearly as interesting. Least of all to me.

The break actually gave me an opportunity to consider in some depth the cognitive dissonance I have been experiencing in the immediate aftermath of the England series. Specifically the brutal bludgeoning handed out to the visitors in the final fixture.

And the problem is this:

On the one hand, dishing out a hiding to the poms is one of the most pleasurable experiences for me as a sports fan.

On the other hand, it was a T20 game. And I have never really liked T20 cricket. Forgive me but I am a purist at heart. The part of my brain that takes sport seriously just doesn’t register anything when shortest format rolls around. I could not care less what happens in the IPL, the Big Bash, and all other such travelling circuses.

But I enjoyed this. I really really did. And it made me wonder if I was finally getting on the T20 train.

Had you asked me prior to the T20s what I thought of the format in general, I would have probably explained it in terms of one of my other passions in life. Good whisky.

You see, test cricket is the pure single malt of sport. It’s a Balblair 1986, or a Balvenie 16yr old triple cask, both of which sit proudly in my collection. Fans who appreciate it really know their stuff. There is a premium on quality. A small dram is usually enough to know that this is where the real action is.

T20 on the other hand is a Johnny Walker Red Label. Or a Teachers, or any other kind of cheap blended rubbish. It’s freely available, and loved by alcoholics the world over. It’s something you indulge in when you don’t really love yourself.

But maybe it’s time to promote the young upstart. There are whiskies out there that are not the greatest, but not the worst. Decent blends like a Chivas 12yr old. It’s not ideal but since I’m not a snob, in the right circumstance it can be quite pleasant. This is the ODI level. Maybe T20s belong here as well.

So my new found passion for T20s has come just in time. The Aussies are now in SA for 3 T20s before the T20 World Cup next month. I’m quite pumped for it now. Hopefully we can beat them convincingly before we go to India and find a new way to screw up a multi-national tournament. It’ll be interesting to see what we come up with this time.

Had we won the test series against England I for sure would not have cared about the T20s. But losing them created an extra edge that I appear to have fallen off. It’s actually quite nice on the other side. Maybe it was worth it to lose the test series to get here….

Oh my God… I did NOT just say that! I think I need a therapist.

GPF