Until very recently, my nieces Lucy and Amelia had lived all their lives in Hong Kong. Now they are "home" in Australia, I consider it my duty to educate them in being Strine. Today's lesson, the joy of an overpriced pie and chips at the cricket. Ok, there is no joy in the price of food at a sporting venue but as a cricket tragic it would be wrong of me not to introduce them to the Gabba and a battle between bat and ball. I am not unrealistic enough to think that 12 and 13-year-old girls with no background in cricket are going to enjoy a polite, gentle game of test cricket. That, I accept, is an aquired taste. But Twenty20, that I was pretty sure I could sell. This is cricket not only on steroids but also put through the washer with a load of mardi gras. There's music, dancing, fireworks and a man flying across the ground in a rocket suit. There's the Kiss Cam which focuses on couples in the crowd and encourages them to snog. At other times the big screen encourages your best air guitar moves or your best dancing. Add a Mexican wave or two and the stage is set for a great night. Oh, that's right, they also play cricket. It's called the Big Bash League for a reason and tonight did not disappoint. The Brisbane Heat were hitting the ball all over the park. If you wanted a game that could sell T20 Cricket to a newbie tonight was the night. By the end they were cheering like cricket tragics (and the Brisbane Heat won). Result
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