The Cricket Match

In the United States, baseball is unquestionably known as America's Pastime. In New Zealand, it is not.

As an avid baseball enthusiast (understatement?), the prospect of going for months without watching my beloved sport grieved me deeply. Desperately seeking a fix only three weeks into my stay in Christchurch, word began to spread of an upcoming cricket match between New Zealand and Australia.

To be sure, baseball is not cricket, and cricket is not baseball. Yes, there are similarities, but the more you come to know each, you realize that the differences far outnumber these. Yet a grudge match between teams is always enjoyable, and it is safe to say that there was a certain amount of nationalism at work in the week leading up to the match.

Securing a ticket, expectations were mixed, but I was excited for my first taste of real cricket. And walking up to the stadium, I found myself in a familiar scene.

On this night, February 28, the Blackcaps of New Zealand met Australia in Christchurch's AMI Stadium, about 20 minutes from Canterbury.

At first glance, one might confuse this for any American sporting event, particularly baseball. However, as you passed through the gates and entered the depths of the stadium, certain irregularities began to stand out.

Not exactly Fenway Park.

But still, many stadiums have bizarre mascots. Many teams have little gimmicks for the crowds. And this makes sense, because at the end of the day, sports are entertainment. It's not enough to provide the athletic competition; you have to sell the entire experience.

And yet...

This stand jumped out immediately. Located within the stadium as any food or beer stand would be, a person could walk in and place bets on the match that was about to be played.

Is this not amazing? Why doesn't every MLB, NFL and NBA arena/stadium have a stand like this one? I think I can actually hear Jordo tensing up at the mere thought... Calm down, buddy.

As with any sporting event, the most exhilarating point is the moment where the field of play first comes into view. Walking through a narrow tunnel, the field, the crowd and the stadium all explode into sight at once. Regardless of your level of interest, I cannot fathom how one cannot be overwhelmed at such a moment. It gets me every time.

Not trying to go overboard with the technical lingo, the following are the general rules for a 2o/20 cricket match, such as the one played on this night:

There are two wickets separated by about 60 feet. The batting team tries to protect these at all costs, which means that there are always two batsmen on the field, one in front of each wicket.

One team bats while the other fields, and then they switch. There is no jumping back and forth like in baseball.

The batting team is allowed 10 wickets (outs) or 20 overs. An over consists of 6 balls, or pitches. This means that if a batting team does not record 10 wickets, they will try to score as many runs as possible within 20 overs, which is 120 balls.

There are 11 players on each side. The first two batsmen begin, with the bowler (pitcher) hurling the ball towards the wicket at speeds upwards of 100 mph and the batsmen trying desperately to prevent this.

Basically, the only way a batsmen can make a wicket (out) is by allowing the bowler to hit his wicket, allowing a fielder to catch the ball in the air, or by being thrown out while running between the wickets (it's similar to pitcher's poison; if a fielder can hit the wicket with the ball while the batsmen is stuck between the two wickets, he is out).

A batsmen will hit until he is out. This means that, hypothetically, the first two batsmen can hit for all 20 overs. If one batsmen does make an out, however, he is replaced by the next man in the order.

Scoring is simple as well: a "homerun" equals six runs, a ball rolling to or over the fence is four, and anything else is a matter of how many times the batsmen can run back and forth between the wickets before the fielders can gather the ball.

Simple, right?

Well, here, look at some of these:

Though the throwing motion is vastly different from that of baseball, make no mistake about it: these guys were bringing it.

As intimidating as a 90 mph pitch can be when it's fired at you from 60 feet, cricket bowlers take it to another level. Often beginning their delivery 60-80 feet from where they actually release the ball, the bowler will sprint towards the batsmen, gathering incredible momentum to be used to their advantage. One cannot imagine the anxiety the batsmen must feel as the bowler runs forward, kicking his legs and flailing his arms in preparation for sending the ball hurtling towards the wicket. It is an impressive display.

On this night, one New Zealander stole the show far more than any other. Brendan McCullum, batting for New Zealand, put on quite the show.

Putting up 116 of New Zealand's 214 runs, McCullum (42) teed off on Australia's bowlers all night, including the most impressive shot of the night, a 6 that he seemed to pluck off of his shoes.

Thanks in large parts to the efforts of McCullum, New Zealand held a comfortable lead as Australia came to bat. Needing 215 runs for their victory, the Aussies trailed by 10 runs heading into their 20th and final over.

The stands, which had been rather unruly for the vast majority of the contest, now grew noticeably tenser. The victory which the mob had been confident in only moments before now seemed to be slipping away, and every ball became increasingly critical.

Admittedly, I asked a foolish question early in the match:

"What happens if the match ends in a tie?"

Apparently this is such a rare circumstance that most people, even most cricket fans, are unclear as to what exactly the rules are. Call it foreshadowing if you'd like, but as Australia trailed by two runs with five balls done in the final over, anything was possible.

As the bowler began his slow jog building into a sprint, silence fell across the crowd. The Aussie batsmen cocked his back, stepped forward, and sent the ball shooting towards the gap. If it rolled to the fence, Australia would have won the match. While the fielders raced to try to cut it off, the batsmen sprinted back and forth between the wickets, attempting to make the matter of the fence irrelevant.

A New Zealand fielder dove in front of the ball, cut if off... but then bobbled it. Australia had already scored two runs to tie the match, and after witnessing the fielder muff the ball, intensified their pursuit for the third.

The fielder gathered the ball and fired it in as the runner raced forward, stretching his bat out in an effort to cross the line before the fielder could hit the wicket. It would be close...

But the Aussie was out! Tie game! An incredible ending to the 20th over, and the crowd erupted in a mixture of relief and disappointment, as both teams were now tied.

The "extra innings" proved to be anti-climatic; both teams got to bat one final over to determine the winner.

Australia batted first and put up a very weak showing, not even scoring six runs. With McCullum back and batting for New Zealand, the Aussies' hopes were finally crushed when they were stuck with the loss following their valiant comeback.

Leaving the stadium, many people were overheard talking about how great of a match had just been played. The excitement and jubilation were contagious; it was difficult to not walk out shaking your head and wondering, "What did I just see?"

Well, it was cricket.

And while baseball will continue to be missed, the match between the Blackcaps and Australia is proof that sports will never cease to amaze, regardless of how they are presented.