The Mythology of Cricket

Forgot to mention in all the excitement over that flame appearing in Cornwall yesterday, but I actually had rather a marvellous day at the Test. I say "marvellous". It was a slow old day's play - England quite cautious against a very average West Indies attack, taking a long time to get up to the Windie's score. It was an utter delight to see Strauss get a ton, though. The real resilience of a true fighter and sportsman. And a quite ferocious delight in the extended ovation he got.

Personally I was sat in an interesting position. In front of me were two posh boys, who consumed four bottles of champagne in between going off to see people called "Rupert", "Eliot" and "Tarquin". While behind me was sat a man who appeared to be channelling the spirit of Geoffrey Boycott. Although as the day wore on I realised that he was listening to TMS on the radio, and merely repeating every word that Boycott said. On the occasions that Geoffrey went off to be recharged, the chap behind e continued with his own dull comments such as "Trott always scores so slowly" and "with a right and left-hander we should be farming the strike". In some ways it was a relief to stagger off the train at Flitwick - although until up to the point when I realised that the "lift home" I'd been promised was Burton Dasset turning up with his tandem.

But I realise that to our American cousins (among whom I count several readers), cricket is a bit of a mystery. A test match can last five days and end in a draw - how can this possibly work as a sport, they may ask? And the answer is that cricket is actually not so much a sport as a religion. The accountants, restaurant workers and motor mechanics who throw leather balls at each other of a Saturday or Sunday afternoon on a dog-dropping-covered municipal rec are as the village churches to the cathedrals of Headingley, Lord's or The Oval. The figures of past cricketers are as the great demi-gods and heroes of the pantheon of Cricket, while the great god Earnshaw watches over those of the Chosen People that are born within the ancient boundaries of Yorkshire. So I hope this explanation may help.

Cake - The food of the gods. The people of Tunbridge Wells, Chippenham and Droitwich hope to achieve blessings on the England cricket tea by sending offerings to the priests of the Cricket religion, the "TMS". The offerings are consumed by the priests, who must all have adopted names such as "Aggers", "Jonners" or "Bumble".

"All in white shall wait around" - Mrs Alexander was inspired to write "Once in Royal David's City" by the realisation that the experience of heaven will be like watching a Test Match. Only shorter.

Old Ladies with Sticks of Rhubarb - Cricket can be played by men and women, of course, with appropriate modifications to the protective equipment. However the ancient Wise Women of Yorkshire needed no such namby-pamby equipment. Using a stick of rhubarb they were able to ward off all evils, including head-high full-tosses and bouncers. The last of these Wise Women was old Mrs Boycott, who so memorably saw off Lillee and Thomson at the Oval in 1975.

"Beefy" - mythical hero in the line of Cu Chullain and Samson. Wielded a tree-trunk as a bat and bowled exploding cricket balls. "Freddie" was a latter-day hero who was never quite so good, incapable of pedalling the simplest pedalo.

DRS - Proof that video technology doesn't necessarily help get decisions right in sport.

"Not cricket" - Given a sport that includes illegal tampering with the equipment, rigged betting and occasional attempts physically to hurt the opposition it's hard to imagine what this might mean.  

Gower - An angelic being cursed, as all such are, with one great weakness. In his case, outside the off stump.

The Bodyline Series - An example of relative morality, given the whingeing from the Poms when the Windies and Australia learnt how to bowl fast.

Farming the Strike - A ritual in which the "tail-ender" always ends up facing 5 balls an over. A kind of meditation on our fallen nature.

Jonners - Ancient sage of great wisdom and immense ability to eat fruit cake.

Middle-Order Collapse - The Fall of Civilisation between the Ancient and Modern worlds, which the England cricket team ritually recreates 20 times a year. 

"The batsman's Holding, the bowler's Willey" - ancient spell of laughter-making. Still used as a counter-spell to rain during boring periods when the covers are on.

Nine-Ten-Jack - People whose ritual role is to be "knocked over". If they "wag" this means they aren't happy with the allotted fate.

Reverse Swing - Witchcraft.

Uncovered Pitches - Proof of how we have fallen from our true nature since early times. In the 1960s, cricketers would trust the gods to give the good weather. Today, we trust in metal and plastic to keep the pitch dry.

The Yorkshire team of the early 60s - a race of super-heroes, incapable of weakness of any kind. 

Pigeons - The spirits of old cricketers are still believed to hover around their former homes in the form of pigeons or seagulls . I reckon. That's the only reason I can think of why they are considered so important.

Blofeld - Evil arch-villain. 

Sacrifice in English Religion

The English religion, it is sometimes said by people wondering why men don't go to church, is football. For the benefit of my American readers, or people from Gloucester, Northampton or St Helens, I should explain that I'm talking about foot-ball here, the game that one plays with one's feet, hence the name.
One part of the older, traditional religions of the British Isles, before the English arrived to introduce the Church of England and subsequently football, was human sacrifice. In order to ensure that the crops grew the following year, the Celtic folk would build giant Wicker Men, fill them with prisoners, and set them on fire - as shown in that seminal film where Christopher Lee cons Edward. Woodward into dressing up as a fool and then sets fire to him while the brass band plays "Summer is y-cumen in" or somesuch culturally inappropriate song.

For my American readers, I should explain that this is The Wicker Man. Not the one with Nicholas Cage. Ridiculous film that is. Imagine - a religious commune run by a scary woman, where the men are all useless drones. Where could they have got that kind of idea?

In more recent years, due a misprint, the Wicker men transformed into "wicket men" - a group of Novices, dressed ceremonially in white, who are slaughtered when they are unable to cope with the magic of "spin bowling".

For my American readers, cricket is... no, sorry, I couldn't possibly explain.

The English religion of football is based on a four-year liturgical cycle.  In some respects it resembles the Fisher King of Arthurian legend, that man on whose welfare the state of the kingdom depends.
The nation engages a council of wise fools, the "FA", to find the man with the greatest tactical and magical skills. It must be a man. The English will not allow women to take this role due to a belief that they don't understand the arcane mysteries of the Laws of the Game- in particular "The Offside Rule".The FA are allowed to scour the world for this role, or sometimes just Middlesborough. When they find him, they pour gold over his head until he accepts the role.

The "England Manager" will initially be recognised by the nation to be gifted with second sight, profound wisdom, genius and an ability to solve the "Riddle of Gerrard and Lampard". His every touch will be regarded as magical, to be confirmed after two years when, after a goalless draw with a team from a small former Soviet Republic, the team narrowly qualify for Europe. He will then be declared "unlucky" to have gone out to Germany or, as it may be, Italy.

But this is the high spot of his powers. From now on, everything he does goes from genius to foolishness. He will repeatedly be compared with an ancestral sage of near god-like powers named "Ramsey" and seen to fall short. The only one still convinced of his powers, he will make bizarre claims to be able to divine the sins of people in former life. He may drop people in good form, play Wes Brown instead of Jamie Carragher, or believe in an antiquated formula known as "4-4-2".

The end of the Manager's reign is always bizarre, shambling oblivion. Managers have taken obviously injured players to tournaments in the belief that they can be miraculously healed; claimed to have fountains of youth in which Beckham can regain his youthful ability or paired Emile Heskey with Wayne Rooney. They may unexpectedly take Lineker off when we need a goal, or pick players who have never even played for their clubs. Some may even start to resemble turnips, or other root vegetables. When they raise an umbrella above their heads in a futile attempt to keep the anger of the gods from falling on them, the nation knows that it is time. The well-being of England is once again at a low.


Eventually The Manager is sacrificed to that god-like pantheon "The Press". Supernatural beings that are said to be able to know a man's very thoughts - or at least his phone messages. The Press accepts the sacrifice, and makes one demand of the FA. If the last Manager was English, they demand the mystic powers of a foreigner. If the last was foreign, they request the traditions and ancient powers of a Briton. They belief that there is one mage - the O'Neill of legend - who can combine both these threads. And yet the O'Neill can never be found when he is needed.

Enough. Time has once again come full circle. The sacrifice is made. A new Manager will be appointed, all nature will be reborn and the cycle can begin again.

Religion and Football

It's often been claimed that there is a strong link between football and religion. And of course in the case of the city of Glasgow, that link's considerably closer and more worrying than most of us would like.

But I've been having a ponder - and there's some undeniable similarities.

Such as the hope of a better time in the future - be that in heaven or next season.

The shared hope and dreams of a community with a common purpose.

Special food - although some would maybe think meat pies and Bovril don't make a foretaste of a heavenly banquet, they come quite close on a cold day in January.

Communal singing - with the obvious difference that at football, men sing as well.

Waving your hands in the air - although not in non-Charismatic churches, and not at Old Trafford as they'd drop their prawn sandwiches.

And to that, this week, I've got to add accusations of cover-ups, politicking and leaks and rumours. Whatever the truth of it all (and though the Church of England has a lot less money than FIFA, the Roman Catholic Church is  still probably richer).

But I guess the main difference is in the clothing. Although in both football and religion special clothing is worn by the more prominent participants, and although a person wearing black and laying down the rules is common to both, you very rarely find somebody in a pew wearing a Vicar replica strip. It would only confuse the issue.

Quantum Immortality and Nani's socks

Fascinated by the article in the Scientific American blog which disproves the existence of the soul by the use of a wave equation. The argument being that there must be some mathematical function that involves the soul if the soul is to be a repository of memory, personality and what have you after physical death. Fascinating from a historical point of view, at least, as it's the old "how do you weigh a soul" theory all over again. And interesting in that if your belief is that physics can measure everything that is to do with physics, then subject to Uncertainty (and even that has its limits, although we don't know what they are) then I'd totally agree.

Of course, the belief that the soul hangs around after death is in any case not a very Judaeo-Christian belief, in that the Biblical belief is that when you're dead you're dead - and the resurrection, not some floating disembodied consciousness, is what defeats death. But I look forward to the next bash in this series, when they attempt to include hubris and futility as part of a wave equation and work out how they inter-relate with mass and energy.

Which brings me onto the far more important question of Nani's socks.  As part of the BBC's ongoing programme to relativize religion - simultaneously trying to downgrade it while not offending anyone - we have this article, hooked onto the European Champions' League final, commenting on the significance of faith in sport. Apparently if you look carefully at Lionel Messi you may catch him crossing himself - while Javier Hernandez (pronounced "Chícharito") has even been known to pray. To the BBC this is a part of that wide world of oddity called faith - the customs of strange Latin persons, no doubt. And by the end of the article it is reduced down to about the same importance as Nani's socks.

But it's Nani's socks rather than the article itself that worry me - that kind of reporting from the BBC being par for the course. But this is important news. "Nani, the Manchester United winger, plays with his socks the wrong way round."

What on earth do they mean by this? Do they mean that Nani has the heels of his socks on the front of his ankle? If so, as good luck routines go it sounds terribly counter-productive, as it must interfere with him kicking the ball. Or are Man United socks chiral - that is, there is a left and a right sock? And if this is the case, does this non-interchangeability relate to their shape, or just to Man Utd having different emblems on different sides  - with an "inside" and an "outside" according to whether they carry the player's number on one side?

For myself, I will content myself with the old chemical fact that chiral molecules rotate polarized light in different directions.  Because I reckon that means that next time Man United play Liverpool, we merely have to beam strongly polarized light onto the game and  Nani will run straight off the pitch. And also reflect that my other team, Rushden and Diamonds, would probably have suffered less in their affairs were it not for some of their players' habit of putting their boots on the wrong feet, due to not having pairs consisting entirely of left ones.

For the record, this evening we will be praying that Chicarito wins. And we will also be praying for the rest of his team to get heavily beaten by Barcelona.

Death of Mary, Queen of Scots (1587)

Today we remember the execution, not so very far away in quiet Fotheringhay, of Mary, Queen of Scots.

We recall that two cousins, who should have been tied by bonds of familial affection, were instead separated by religion, politics and ambition. And that religion, politics and ambition caused the death of Mary after, intentionally or not, she encouraged plots against her cousin.

And so we will spend today recalling all the times that religion, politics or ambition have broken the natural bonds of love between friends, within family (I hope you're reading, Mr Miliband), or between  colleagues and within societies and teams (likewise, Senor Torres).

This could take a while so we're doing it in shifts. We've got from now till 3pm lined up just for religion as the causes of division. And even then we've split the Moot House into 3 for "Personal Experiences" and "English" and "World" history.

This is a solemn day, and not one for levity. So we're holding the "Was Mary Really Guilty" vote in the TV room.    Where we'll also be re-screening Gazza's goal on a permanent loop.

Attendance

Much excitement in the press about our latest attendance figures showing we were slightly down in 2009.  On average our Occasions were attended by about 2% less people last year.  Or Eerwigg, to be precise.  He left to join the Guinea Pig Worshippers and never came back.
The Great Guinea Pig says this proves we are a fading force, and all Beaker People should join the Guinea Pig people.  At least, I think this is what he said.  Once again, the simultaneous translator was having trouble with the collection of squeaks, whistles and burps with which the Great Guinea Pig communicates.  But I disagree with His Squeakiness.
What we are actually seeing is a great increase in people taking part in a wider range of Beaker-related activities at different times and in different places.  Indeed, any time someone lights a tea light, burns an essential oil or looks at a pebble on the beach and goes "ooh", they're taking part in Beaker worship.  Obviously, they don't realise.  But they all count.

Dumbing Down of Exam Standards

There has been a great deal of fuss over the alleged dumbing-down of Science Exam standards.

Oddly some of this was aimed at our own Beaker Examining Board.  Some people seemed to think we have abandoned scientific impartiality in order to "target" (whatever that may mean) the Faith School market.  I hope last year's Year 9 Science exam, attached below, will prove this is not true.

BEAKER EXAMINING BOARD

YEAR 9 SCIENCE FOR FUNDAMENTALISTS

Please write only in green crayon and on one side of the earth (the flat side) only.

Section 1 - PHYSICS

1 - "Light is...."
(a) A wave
(b) A stream of particles, or "photons"
(c) Both of the above depending upon your frame of reference and the type of experiment you are carrying out
(d) God's clothing

2 - Why do we not float off from the earth?
(a) Gravitional attraction
(b) Because it's flat
(c) Because it's a giant magnet and we have iron in our bodies
(d) Because God said.

3.  The universe is claimed to be c. 12 billion years old, yet the farthest stars are apparently 25 billion light years away.  Explain?
(a) There's something wrong with the calculation
(b) The expansion of the universe has caused it.
(c) Some stars travel in warp drive.
(d) God set it up so it looked that way, in 4004BC.  He created all the light on its way in at the same time.  This was a very clever trick to test the faithful and fool those who are wise in their own eyes.

4.  The limits on radiocarbon dating are now up to 70 thousand years.  What would this be useful for?
(a) Checking the freshness of food in supermarkets.
(b) Dating mammoths, stone-age humans and petrified forests.
(c) Nothing whatsover.  

5.  Schrodinger's cat is...
(a) A thought experiment
(b) A very cruel experiment, which proves why we should not trust scientists
(c) Demised
(d) Very much still with us
(e) 50% (c) and 50% (d)
(f) Hang on, I'll just open the box.  Oh dear...

6.  Fire is...
(a) The glowing of particles releasing energy after combustion
(b) One of the four elements, alongside water, earth and air
(c) A useful tool in dealing with heresy

Section 2 - GEOLOGY

1- How did fossils come to be in the rock strata?
(a) They're the remains of animals that were caught in the Flood
(b) They were put there by God to test us in our faith
(c) They were put there by the evil one to tempt us to abandon our faith
(d) They were put there by Steve Borthwick to confuse us.

2 - What action caused the creation of the Himalayas?
(a) Plate tectonics
(b) A giant tortoise ploughed into India after an ill-fated freak mutation meant it could fly but not very well.
(c) They're the remains of a dead giant
(d) God made them in 4004 BC

3 - What kind of rock was laid down by the shells of tiny sea creatures in the Cretaceous period, roughly 100 million years ago?
(a) Marble
(b) Limestone
(c) You having a laugh?

Section 3 - MEDICINE

1 - Historically, how would you treat somebody who was suffering from manic depression?
(a) Beat them with sticks to drive out the demons
(b) Chain them up and beat them with sticks on a strictly scientific basis
(c) Medication
(d) Pray for them
(e) All of the above
(f) Offer aromatherapy

2 - What would be your first actions if finding someone who had lost a hand in a road crash?
(a) Pray that the hand would be restored
(b) Phone an ambulance, keep them still and laid down, apply pressure in an attempt to restrict blood flow
(c) Offer aromatherapy
(d) Beat them with sticks to drive out the demons

3 - How would you treat sufferers from Swine Influenza
(a) Antibiotics
(b) Anti-virals
(c) Beat them with sticks to drive out the demons.

4 - What would the best method of dealing with a fever be?
(a) Paracetamol
(b) Cold flannel
(c) A nice warm blanket and hot water bottle
(d) Look, just pass me the sticks, I'll beat them myself.

Moon Gibbon Poll

I'm concerned about the Moon Gibbon poll we're running. Asked whether the Moon Gibbon exists, 6 people have voted "yes". Since that happens to be the same number of people as there are Moon Gibbon Folk, including all four of their druids (they're a bit top-heavy on druids - the other two members can't be druids due to their lack of beards), we suspect that there's some poll-rigging going on. Not least because the IP address of the votes suggests they all came from the Moon Gibbon Folk's dedicated broadband access on the Howling Hill.

The Science v Religion Game

As the nights draw in our thoughts start to turn towards the Autumnal Equinox, to falling leaves, and to board games.  We've bought the latest exciting board game - "Science v Religion" which you can all feel free to play in the Library.  No violence please.  Complete rules are below.

The Basic idea

The players take up a position on either side of the fence.  They take it in turns to throw their cards over it.  The aim of each card is to trump the other team's previous card.  For example, if the Science player plays the "Spanish Inquisition" card, the Religion team might play the "Darwinian eugenics" card.  Likewise a "Homophobia" card might be met by a "Gays will burn in Hell" card - or possibly by a "My vicar's gay actually, but he just doesn't shout about it" card.  Although the latter card is rare, and only available in the limited Edition "C of E" game pack, where you're allowed to sit on the fence.

Special Cards

The "Voltaire converted on his deathbed" card is of doubtful worth.

The "Bible says" card is worth either a million points or none, depending upon which side of the fence you are. 

"Sister Wendy" is better than " Jimmy Carr".

The "Bono" card scores highly but everyone's a bit embarrassed to play it.

Two "Problem of Suffering" cards are equivalent to three "Original Sin"s.

The "Hitler" cards are powerful but have different effects - depending on whether you are playing the "Anthropology of the 3rd Reich" card, "Catholic Hitler" or the "Hitler was an atheist" card.  If you play "Vegetarian Hitler" you're in the wrong game.

The "Richard Dawkins" card can be played by either side at any time.  It scores 100 points, but doesn't really make any difference to the final result, although occasionally it will make someone turn the board over.

The "Fossils are an invention of the Devil" card is no use whatsoever to anyone.

The "Hubble Telescope" card is lovely. 

How to Win the Game

Nobody ever does.

Science and Religion

Once again we are happy to allow a guest to air his views - on this occasion Dr Dweeb Dexter, who has recently set up his new Laboratory of Blatting Out of Existence (L-Boe).

Many people have written on the supposed conflict between Science and Religion - suggesting that Science has "disproved" Religion, or that Science is merely a tool of the Dark One.  Yet others have tried to assign different roles to the two - Science attempting to answer the question "how" while Religion asks "why".  I would like to suggest that in fact there is a question common both to theologians and scientists.  And that question is "how can I get a grant"?  On this question we can all agree.

If you are a theologian looking for a bit of dosh, it's no good supporting the traditional line.  Who's going to give you any money for that?  If you want to get some-one to buy your books, or make it onto the chat-show circuit, you want to claim Jesus was a chipmunk, or St Peter and the other apostles were members of the Beaker People.

In much the same way, there's not much point a scientist mixing chemicals together to make pretty colours.  Who's going to pay you for that?  Personally, I've made an absolute mint out of my research into blatting things out of existence.  There's plenty of people prepared to pay for that kind of research.  Of course, science being a morally neutral activity, I am bound to pursue this kind of investigation regardless of petty moral concerns.  I am concerned solely with truth.

Now I realise that some of you are a little concerned about my new  Laboratory of Blatting Out of Existence.  Please don't worry.  According to my (theoretical) calculations, the chances of my Blatting & Obliteration Machine (or BOM for short) creating an existential vortex that sucks the whole of Husborne Crawley into the void is less than one in a thousand.  Hardly worth worrying about. And think about the size of the cheques if it works!

I hope this has put your minds at rest.