The Carnivore Kiwi…

The World Cup that I, Cassandra, thought would be a tired affair has blessed us with another splendid ton, this time from the bat of New Zealand’s Ross Taylor. In the last overs of what had been a quiet Kiwi innings he launched a terrific blitz against the Pakistani side; thumping boundary after boundary and displaying how variable power relations are in cricket. Generally the bowlers are the real aggressors. Sure, the batsmen try to pick up runs but only they face death with every moment that’s played; only their opponent can release the killer blow. Yet sometimes a batsman comes along – Viv, Ian, Kevin – who’s so damned aggressive that like a rhinoceros who charges towards a shaking barrel the hunted becomes the proverbial. Taylor was one of the few batsmen I’ve seen who’ve made their foes seem terrified of bowling. They ran in as if the fresh-cut grass was a Burmese swamp and tried to navigate the ball past him with all the fear of a parent trying to maneuver their child past a lion. I almost felt sorry for them. But, then again, I didn’t.

Published in: on March 9, 2011 at 3:33 am  Leave a Comment  
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