Spring has finally arrived and I have taken upon myself to civilize a few Americans by teaching them the gentlemanly game of cricket.

The first two days as expected have been a complete disaster not in the least because of the wet weather but Americans consider anything given in their hand as weapons of mass destruction and continue to wield the cricket bat as one. They kept hitting in the air despite my Gandhian plea to stop this violence and keep the ball on the ground.

After miraculously missing the parked but trembling cars in the parking lot, Mr. Beefy(ex softball player) smacked a ball high up in the air which went and landed straight on the roof of the patrolling security guard's car. I thought that was it, game busted before it even started. A remorseless Mr. Beefy stood chewing an imaginary gum happy with his exploits and I hoped, ready to face the music. The guard got out of the car and walked purposefully towards us with a look of menace that only the great Viv Richards could afford to give to bowlers in his time.
'Give me the bat,' he said in a tone which left no scope for protest. I was already resigned to the fact that my bat was going to get confiscated just like it used to happen at school. Beefy promptly handed the bat over to the guard who walked with it towards our makeshift stumps.
'Who is the best bowler among you, give it your best shot,' he ordered
'Huh,' I said
'What's the matter kid, haven't got any balls?' he mocked
'Most certainly," I said as I jumped with elation

Turns out the security guard was Guyanese who informed us that the after his mother, the only love of his life was cricket. So there it was, I have put in motion some way to knock some sense in the American heads as to what is called a sport.

BANG!! Shit, as I write this, Mr. Security Guard has compromised the security by whacking the streetlight which has stopped functioning. Hope the fun continues, follow the post labels for more events.