Leg before wicket

After 2 years, I'm finally going to take a stab at explaining cricket, using an analogy to an American game which has absolutely no similarities.

Imagine playing baseball, except the bat is flat on one side, the ball is smaller, the pitcher runs up and throws overhand, and the ball bounces before it reaches the batter. Sound like a girls' game? Consider that the ball is much denser, is often thrown in excess of 90mph, and can bounce in just about any direction. The batter--sorry, batsman--looks like a cross between Hannibal Lecter and an ice hockey goalie, in a full face mask, thick gloves, and full body armor. If the ball hits the batsman, the umpire may give the batsman a run, but more often will call him out for "leg before wicket."

The wicket is a set of three wooden stakes between the batter and the catcher -- or wicket-keeper -- with two "balls" (that aren't balls at all) resting on top.  The pitcher -- bowler -- tries to knock one of the balls off the wicket, which is equivalent to a "strike out."  The batsman, then, must "protect the wicket" but has to do so with the bat -- if he uses his body, and the ball would have hit the wicket, then he is out.

The fielders are arranged in a circle around the batsman, because the ball can be hit in any direction. Like baseball, the batsman is also out if he hits the ball and a fielder catches it before it hits the ground.  Otherwise, the batsman runs to the other base. That's right, there are only two bases, 22 yards apart (in baseball they are 30 yards), and there are always two men on base, running past each other, carrying their own bat, and whoever ends up on the "home" base becomes the striker.

There are also two bowlers who switch every six balls. (This is called an "over" because the umpire calls "over!") When this happens, everything switches sides, so the other batsman now becomes the striker.

If a fielder tags the wicket while the runner is off base, he has been "run out" -- although in cricket the "base" is really just a chalk line (and is referred to as a "popping crease" for reasons not worth going into.  I should also mention that every ball is in play, so even if the ball is wide, or the batsman doesn't hit it, or even if it is called "no ball" (eg if it bounces twice), the batsman can still run to the other base.  However, that usually only happens if the wicketkeeper misses the ball--otherwise he just gets run out.  The umpire can also award runs for wide balls or no balls ("byes").  If the ball leaves the the oval field, the batsman automatically gets 4 or 6 runs, depending on if the ball bounced first or not.

Each side has 11 men, and each man gets a turn at bat, so the inning is over when 10 men are out. (You can't leave a single runner.) This can take days--literally--and there are two innings per game.  Scores are in the hundreds, with individual players often scoring a "century" (100 runs or more).  If both teams have completed both innings, then the team with the most runs wins.  (If the second team has more runs in the second inning, they don't need to finish the inning.)  However, if the game goes on for more than five days, the game is a "draw" no matter how many runs were scored!  For that reason, if a team is ahead it may ends its innings in order to give the other team time to finish.  (Similarly, if the first team is more than 200 runs ahead at the end of the first inning, they can order the second team to go first in the second inning.)

Unfortunately, the pressures of modern life often mean a 5-day match is not possible, and so there are shorter variations which usually involved "limited overs."  For example, in Twenty20, only 20 overs per inning are allowed.  (The other "20" referrs to the number of countries involved.)  Cricket started in the 16th century, and was England's national sport by the 18th century.  In the 19th century, they exported cricket to the rest of the empire, and now England is regularly beaten in international matches.  One of the most famous matches is "The Ashes," which date back to 1882 when a a British newspaper published an obituary after Australia beat England on English soil, stating that "English cricket had died, and the body will be cremated and the ashes taken to Australia."  The next year, England went to Australia to "regain the Ashes" and the name stuck.  England was even presented with an urn, which is on display at Lord's cricket ground, one of the most famous pitches in the world.

A brief history of british architecture

The Romans brought their stone villas and viaducts to England, but after they left in the 5th century, Britons returned to wood, leaving almost no trace. The Normans brought stone building back in 1066, and many castles (the White Tower, 1097) and cathedrals (Durham Cathedral, completed 1175) still exist, but homes were still primitive affairs.

By the 16th century, greater security and a growing middle class led to buildings were no longer set up for defense, but to display status and wealth. The rooms were lighter, bigger, and much more ornamental, made with stone (and later brick) and lots of glass. Examples include Hampton Court Palace (started 1515) and Longleat House (completed 1580). The 17th century continued this trend with more formal styles.  However, the peasants continued to live in wood houses that were dirty and overcrowded. Consider this staggering statistic: The Great Fire of 1666 left 70,000 of the City's 80,000 residents homeless!  (However, it did end the bubonic plague.)  After the fire, many monuments were rebuilt in stone (St Paul's Cathedral, completed 1710) but homes were rebuilt as quickly and cheaply as possible.

Whether it was an enlightened monarchy (possibly encouraged by the French Revolution), the industrial revolution, or a general increase in wealth, building improvements finally came to the middle class in the 18th century, with Georgian architecture, and many of these stately homes and terraced crescents still survive in London and elsewhere, such as Bath.

Finally, in the 19th century and under the auspices of Queen Victoria, building codes were established to protect the lower classes.  Cities built sewers and drains, paved streets and installed lighting, and tore down old slums and replaced them with long terraced houses, usually 2-3 stories, made of brick, with two small reception rooms downstairs and two small bedrooms upstairs.  Of course, the poor probably didn't appreciate this at the time, as they were often simply evicted into the streets and left homeless, but that's progress for you.  Most of the buildings in London date back to this period, usually with a simple (read: tasteless) addition for a kitchen, an indoor toilet, and an extra bedroom.


In the 20th century, however, everything went to hell.  As people became wealthier, bedsits (or flat-shares) became unpopular, and taxes on tenants created a strong increase in the number of homebuyers.   To meet that need, large Victorian homes were subdivided into "flats" and sold as "leasehold tenancies," which is similar to buying a condominium, except after 100 years everything reverts back to the original owner.  (Government-financed public education in England started in 1870, so it is not surprising many people could not read the fine print.)

To compound matters, the German blitz of England in World War II destroyed thousands of homes, and were replaced with what is politely known as "infill."  After the war, to cope with the homelessness and poverty, local councils built hundreds of thousands of "council flats" -- simple box-like affairs, often up to 6 stories, known mostly for their crime rate.  Of course, with London being so crowded, land is at a premium, and not much has been built in here in the past 40 years.

So where does that leave us?  "Bedroom" in London is a euphemism for "closet," with the term "double bedroom" meaning a space large enough to actually sleep in.  A typical three-bed house in London is around 700 square feet; anything larger has generally been converted into flats, or is priced well beyond our reach.  There are almost no "detached" houses in London; at best they are "semi-detached" (eg a house divided in two) or "end of terrace" (where you only have one shared wall).  Backyards tend to be long, skinny affairs, usually with cheap wooden fences.  Front yards are generally non-existant; either the house is built right on the sidewalk, or the front area has been paved for parking.  The nicest streets have a few trees and maybe a little garden in front of the house, but most are just an oppressive expanse of asphalt and brick.

Needless to say, Londoners are used to this, and tend to buy based on the location, not the property.  In fact, Jess read an interesting statistic that Londoners look at, on average, only five houses before making an offer.  Of course, knowing how difficult it is to arrange a viewing with an estate agent, I completely understand that.  Agents generally don't have a key to the property, and so trying to find a time that is convenient to you, the owner, and the agent is nearly impossible.  We've been looking now for a month and I think we've only actually seen the inside of six houses.  Most of the time, once we get the address, we drive by first and don't even bother going inside.

Old Spice Man

This is how adverts should be done...





And this is how you should respond when people like your ads:





I understand she said 'yes.'

Tennis, anyone?

Wimbledon -- one of the four major international tennis championships -- certainly had an off year.  Normally, tickets are sold out well in advance, and in fact you have to enter a national lottery just for the chance to buy tickets.  This year, however, they had a very low turnout (they blamed the World Cup in South Africa, although I personally doubt there is much overlap between football fans and tennis fans) and so were selling tickets online the day before the match.

I was happy to take advantage of the situation.  If you'll recall, in previous years, the only way to get in without a ticket was to queue for hours -- many people camped overnight -- but all I had to do was log in at noon and buy the tickets. It was with great frustration, then, that every single day at noon something would come up -- an important phone call, a time-critical task, a discussion with a colleague -- and by the time I was able to get on my laptop, they were already sold out.  This went on for a week and half!  I was finally successful, only to realize after the fact that I had just bought tickets to the Women's championship.

Jess isn't a fan of tennis so I went with her cousin (who, ironically, was in town from South Africa) who had been to Wimbledon before, but never Centre Court.  And I have to say, the stadium is fantastic, full of hanging baskets of flowers, and the seats were even more amazing--fifth row along the service line!  As I told Jess, the people on court were actually people-sized!  Strawberries and cream are a Wimbledon tradition that we happily partook of, and I swear the restrooms were nicer than the ones at my office.

Unfortunately, the game wasn't particularly interesting -- Venus Williams was knocked out earlier (as was Roger Federer) -- and Serena Williams won her fourth title in straight sets and with no serious challenge.  Nevertheless, I had a great time and will definitely be entering the lottery for next year.

P.S. I forgot my camera, but snapped a few pics with my phone.  View photos

7/7

Five years ago, London suffered its own terrorist attacks.  Although it wasn't on the scale of 9/11 -- only 52 people were killed -- it was in many ways even more horrific, because it was carried out by four young men who were all UK citizens.  At 8:50am, during the morning rush hour, homemade bombs went off on three Underground trains.  Imagine the aftermath of a bomb going off in a small tunnel, five stories below ground, leaving thousands of people shocked, possibly deaf, and in absolute darkness.  It must have been absolutely terrifying.  I try not to think about it when I board the trains, but on 7/7 it's hard not to.  It seems to me everyone else is a little somber on that day, as well.

A fourth bomb, set off by an 18-year-old, destroyed a double-decker bus almost an hour later.  Ironically, because of the earlier bombs, the bus was not on its regular route, and the bomb detonated in front of the headquarters of the British Medical Assocition, which was holding an international conference that day.  Dr. Peter Holden was also there, who was one of the UK's "major incident commanders."  Although they didn't have much equipment -- office first aid kits, duct tape, and a few bags of intravenous fluid that a policeman was able to deliver -- they had more doctors on hand than any hospital, and many lives were saved. The BBC put together a 40 minute program on this:
   http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/p008np9q

Last year, a memorial was built in Hyde Park, London, consisting of 52 steel pillars standing together.  The replacement for the #30 bus was named "Spirit of London."

The Rise of London

Just read an interesting article on London and how, while it's always been an important city, as recently as the 1960s it was just one of many important cities: Manchester, Birmingham Liverpool, and Glasgow all had vibrant economies and communities.  However, they were all built on a manufacturing base which, like Detroit, dried up and moved elsewhere, leaving them struggling and London growing disproportionately to all other UK cities. 

Want some statistics to back that up? How about the 2001 census, which shows London has a higher population than the next 18 largest cities *combined*:

Rank	City	Population
1	London	7,172,091
2	Birmingham	970,892
3	Leeds	715,404
4	Glasgow	577,869
5	Sheffield	513,234
6	Bradford	467,665
7	Edinburgh	448,624
8	Liverpool	439,477
9	Manchester	392,819
10	Bristol	380,615
11	Cardiff	305,353
12	Coventry	300,848
13	Leicester	279,921
14	Belfast	276,459
15	Nottingham	266,988
16	Newcastle on Tyne	259,000
17	Kingston upon Hull	243,589
18	Plymouth	240,720

And according to this 2002 report, "Nineteen of the top 20 richest areas in England and Wales are in south-east England" -- in other words, London and the surrounding area.

As usual, I don't have any answers, but given my current search for a house, I noticed that in all the talks of distributing income and improving quality of life, no one has ever suggested limiting home ownership.  Think about it: When people buy to let, they are increasing demand for a limited supply of housing (ie prices go up), and then they turn around and rent it to people who can now no longer afford to buy.  Neither one has pride of ownership, and neither contributes to the community.  It also becomes self-perpetuating as investors look to buy in areas that are appreciating, making those areas more valuable, while making poor areas even less valuable.  Now, I'm not saying this is right (I am a libertarian, after all) or even enforceable (limited liability company, anyone?), but I just think it's interesting I've never even heard anyone question property investment as a sustainable and beneficial activity.

Fool

Just as nothing says 'English Autumn' like Apple crumble, nothing says 'British Summer' like strawberry fool:

From The Sunday Times
500g strawberries
100g icing (powdered) sugar
Juice of 1 lemon
40g caster (regular) sugar
250ml double cream
250ml greek yoghurt

In a food processor, blitz 400g strawberries with the icing sugar and lemon juice to make a purée. Finely dice the remaining strawberries and sprinkle with the caster sugar. In a large bowl, whip the cream until it forms soft peaks, add the yoghurt, then beat until it thickens. Fold in the strawberry purée and diced strawberries.

Pour into 4 wineglasses or one large glass serving bowl. Refrigerate for 1
hour if in glasses, 2-3 hours if in a bowl.

Economies of culture

We are, by nature, specialists. We are programmed from birth to learn from our parents and peers in order to adapt to our environment.  We accept social moors and ethos unquestioningly; even when challenged, we dismiss other people's actions rather than recognize our own expectations. This is normal and natural and allows us to excel in that environment.  It only becomes an issue when you change environments.

No matter how long I live in Britain, I'll never be British.  I may eat with my fork in the left hand (and upside-down), and I may spell aluminium differently, but it's always a conscious effort, not the effortlessness of even a 4 year old native.  That's not necessarily a bad thing -- in many ways, I consider myself superior to a 4-year-old -- but it is a limitation.  I am specialized as an American, and more than that, as an Angeleno.

100 years ago, specialism extended not to the country, but to the county, and often to the borough, as Pygmalion/My Fair Lady pointed out.  Until the 14th century, Italian cities spoke different languages; the same is true for India before 1950. But language is just one aspect (albeit obvious) of culture.  Today, thanks to modern communications, this is no longer true.  Americans all speak English, although regional dialect still exist.  England has (primarily) conformed to what is colloquially known as 'BBC English' -- although interestingly, listening to a Scot butcher it is often entertaining, while listening to an Essex lad do the same is heart-rending.

My point is this: You may not realize it, but you've developed a lifetime of specializations which give you an edge in everything you do, from getting across town to buying peanut butter.  You don't have to lose these talents to appreciate them.  In fact, once you recognize them, I think you can even improve them.  So the next time you're doing something you've done a million times, challenge yourself, acknowledge what you're doing well, and figure out how to do it even better.

Then let me know, as I could use a lot of help here.

My car

I learned another important difference between the US and UK last week: Roadside assistance, in the UK, is exactly that.

When my car refused to turn over one morning, I called the RAC (Royal Auto Club), because roadside assistance was included in my ridiculously expensive insurance.  They asked me where the car was and when I told them it was in front of my house, they explained I had to be at least a quarter-mile away to receive assistance.

They were happy to send someone anyway, but it would cost £92 (US $140)!  My insurance company said it was £49 to add "at home" service, so I signed up for that -- only to be told it would not be effective for 48 hours!

Meanwhile, I had put the top down before the battery died, but now could not get it back up.  The manual indicated it was ridiculously easy to do it yourself, but I couldn't figure it out, and had to wait until Jess got home that evening to get it closed.  Thankfully, it didn't rain that day, and nobody tried to steal it.

Of course, I needed the car to get to a meeting about 2 hours away, but short of flagging someone down in the street and hoping they had jumper cables, I decided to stay home and call into those meetings.  (I did check the local car rental, but they didn't have any automatics that day -- I knew I should have learned to drive a stick.)

This morning, I called the RAC and, although they still had no record that I had "at home" coverage, they took my word for it and sent someone out.  Not only did he jumpstart the battery, he also tested it, found it wasn't holding a charge, and had a replacement battery available for about the same price I would have paid at a local garage.  That was pretty impressive.

So now, for my cheap 10-year-old car has cost me £200 in road tax, £220 on an MoT (safety test), £80 on the exhaust system, and £80 on a battery, not to mention £210 on a warranty which doesn't cover batteries or exhaust, and £900 on insurance that only includes roadside assistance -- and that was just the first month.  Convenience comes at a very high price, indeed.

P.S. Did I mention it costs US $75 to fill the tank?

Americans abroad

Jess has introduced me to a terrible new game, 'Spot the American.' It's so addictive, I can't believe I used to be oblivious to it. The rules are very simple: Whenever you are traveling, find the loudest, most obnoxious person in the room, and determine his (or hers) nationality. Invariably, it's American.

Perhaps I'm overly sensitive, but it's gotten to the point where I cringe when I'm around Americans. I don't want to talk to them, I don't want to be associated with them, and I want to get away from them as quickly as possible. Of course, they aren't all like that, but you can't really tell the polite Americans from other Europeans.

In fact, I think the only people that travel worse than Americans are the British. However, it's not as noticeable because Brits only go places where everyone is British*. In fact, I might even invent my own game: If you see a Brit on holiday, look around; you're probably surrounded by them.

* George Mikes wrote a lovely little book in the 1950s called "How not to be British," in which he postulated the only reason Brits go on holiday is to meet their neighbors.