Why Don't They Play it More

Samoan Cricket—

Often?

By “Amel”

IN my young days, in Fiji, I thought cricket was a fine game.

We played it with a kerosene tin lor a wicket, a piece of box-wood for a bat, and we had lots of fun, slogging the ball into the nearest frog-pond.

We didn’t fret about maiden-overs, silly legs, mid-ons, slip-ons, roll ons, or any of the incomprehensible cricketing terms which so confuse one to-day.

But the idea of playing the game for the love of it has apparently gone, and it has deteriorated into a grim, cheerless contest which causes more argument and strife than anything else. It almost caused a divorce in our family, when I ventured to say that I thought cricket was stodgy.

Until we went to Samoa, I still thought cricket was stodgy. And then my illusions returned with a swoop. For I found that Samoans play cricket as it should be played —for the sheer fun and joy of it.

The Samoan version of cricket commences at dawn, and ends at iusk (on the same day). The teams nay be men or women, and con sist of any number, from 60 to 100 i side —the more the merrier.

The object in having such large lumbers is not only to have suf icient reserves to bowl for the >owlers, run for the batsmen and ield for the fieldsmen, but also to lut-scream, out-dance and out-sing he members of the opposing team, .his they do, with gusto.

The teams, wearing gay uniforms, re led onto the field, in an appar ntly endless stream, by a cheer ier banging a biscuit tin. When tie preliminary speeches are over, le players are dispersed about the eld, to such good effect that larcely a square foot of ground is isible.

The game is a joy to watch, full t life and movement. According ) the somewhat elastic rules, a atsman is not necessarily caught it; and, as the wicket comprises * op e stump, he is seldom howled it. But the umpire, an important Jrson equipped with a megaphone id a whistle, occasionally declares batsman to he out, for some ason or other, probably quite un mnected with cricket.

Whereupon the scoring team stops ay to do a dance of jubilation, tiey wriggle their hips, kick up e .l r legs and clap their hands, ule their supporting musicians on e sideline triumphantly go to wn with, “You Are My Sunshine,” id the rival band, not at all de essed, churns out, “The Three ttle Sisters.” Oh, wouldn’t it be

lovely at Lords!

The bowlers bowl over-arm under-arm, or throw the ball, as the fancy takes them. The runners who run for the batsmen carry long thin sticks which save both time and energy. The idea is that the runners run half the length of the pitch, while the sticks cover the re maining half! This idea could well be adopted by leg-weary Test cricketers.

At a Samoan cricket match, one does not see a few players enter taining thousands of inanimate spectators. On the contrary, thous ands (hundreds, anyway) of cricket ers disport themselves on the field to the unrestrained delight of the singing, dancing, applauding spec tators, who prepare a large feast for

Samoans seem to be equipped to carry inn r 5“ sade , for brighter cricket abroad, "a""' !S tr ° m ,h ' NZ lanH marka . ble batting record for Auck hv and subu rban cricket was set in L ? us f’ a Samoan who scored 106 . minutes for Harbour Board in a senior B game against Manukau at the C Louse ■>“ 10 “The hit which gave him his century was one of the greatest seen on the ground. He struck a bouncing delivery over his head on the leg side and the ball scattered motorists 60 yards away.

From nine balls. Louse also took four wickets for five runs.”

the players when the game is over.

An international tour by a Samoan cricket team would be a sensational success. Transport of the players would require a ship, or a fleet of planes, but this is a de tail. The gate-money would more than cover expenses. And think what a fillip such a tour would give to that stodgy English game of cricket.