It’s an English expression indicating that everything is just tickety boo, just perfect. Usually exclaimed with a tone of delight and a big smile! It’s also, obviously, a very popular game in England and in many other countries. (Kind of like real football, that Americans call soccer, but the rest of the world calls…football. But here I go again, away with the fairies..) On a hot summer’s day in England (that would be 75 degrees not like the 108 degree heat index we have this week in Tallahassee), one can see a game of cricket being played on a village green, in a park, in a little field behind a pub – pretty much any place where’s there an open space.
Many a summers day was taken up watching a cricket game, which as a child was interminably dull, and for me, quite infuriating as only the boys were allowed to play in the proper games. I watched my brothers, cousins, uncles and dad run back and forth, shout “Out!” and get their pristine white clothes get grass stained. I have no idea why the cricket uniform was, and remains, nonsensical white.
But when it was just us, just family, I had a part in playing cricket. In the back garden, or on a beach, I whirled back and forth between the wickets and gave the lads a good run for their money. Nowadays, when I happen upon a test cricket match on the news (it is still news on the BBC) at Old Trafford, it still takes me back to those long, hot summer days, the smell of freshly, cut grass, the crack of a ball against a bat and one of the boys yelling “Go!” – sometimes at me, sometimes at whoever was away with the fairies, instead of paying attention to the game.
Years ago, my brothers explained the rules of the game to Thom as they were standing watching
some children playing in the park. Thom’s way of explaining it to Americans sounds something like “for every rule, there is an exception to the rule”. So I bought a book of rules to show to my guests inquiring about the rules. A bit too much work methinks. Cricket was always fun, and (sans rulebook) still evokes fond memories. Hot summer day, grass smell, crack of the ball – Wish I were there now…