I don’t like cricket … I love it?

It’s cricket season again.

I know this because the TV is always on and my fiancee hasn’t spoken about anything except wickets, pitches and batting averages for a while.

My television has been on Channel 9, and then GO when Channel 9 moved to the news (how dare they!), the whole day. Even while we celebrated my birthday with 20 close friends this morning.

I’ve grown up in a cricket household. Despite my dad having two daughters, he got lucky with my older sister. While I was at dance recitals and music lessons, she was at the cricket with my dad. The Sydney Test was daddy-daughter time. Eight years ago, when her husband came onto the scene, he joined them. And seven years ago, when my fiancee joined the family, it suddenly became a four-person excursion.

I hate to say it … but the only way to beat them, is join them.

I just queried something the commentators said. “Will Australia retain the ashes?” Hang on… don’t they mean REGAIN? My fiancee is constantly surprised when I mutter something about the cricket, when I tell him about a wicket, or when I show some interest in the game.

Truth is, I never disliked cricket. My sister just liked it more. My fiancee likes to think he influenced me in my appreciation of the game. In his words, he eased me in – taking me to a 20/20, then a one-dayer and then finally to a test match.

I hate to break his heart, but this appreciation of cricket has been 27 years in the making. My mum and I have been dealing with cricket for a very long time, especially my mother who dealt with a cricket-husband until he put away his wicket-keeping gloves when my sister was young.

So while he can claim victory all he wants, truth of the matter is, when my brother-in-law and my fiancee turned up, mum and I just became outnumbered. We eventually succumbed.

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