My uncle who is a three-star general and an MVC gallantry award winner says, ‘since you are one of those journalist types, tell me something, what is this stuff these cricket commentators keep talking about the ball not coming on to the bat? Why should it come on the bat, isn’t it supposed to elude the bat and hit the stumps? It’s not as if the bat and the ball were having a rip roaring affair that one should sidle up to the other, they are enemies, I don’t get it.’

That’s just it, I say, the batsman doesn’t get it either, the ball slows down and it becomes tough to strike it.

So, you want the foe to saunter up to you and say, shoot me. I expect the enemy to outflank me or sneak past or come from left field. So, why all this hooha about the ball being coy? We also played cricket we never said such things. If it wasn’t coming to us, we went to it; I am tired of people nodding wisely whenever this remark is made.

And while we are at it, he says, getting nicely steamed up, what is this nonsense about fast bowlers bowling slower balls, why is it such a surprise, in the army we expect an attack to be either an all-out charge or a stealth op, sometimes both in the same time frame, why such a big deal?

I say, if the ball suddenly slows by twenty kph the batsman is caught unawares and he has to adjust.

Oh, caught unawares, is it, we are at war and we expect the enemy to send us a telegram or an SMS as advance warning or should they sort of string out flags and send a message about their intentions.

It is a high-tech world, general, a whole new ball game.

So high-tech that the same umpire who yells ‘no ball’ and twirls his little pinky in the sky to indicate a ‘free hit’ doesn’t see the same thing happen whenever someone gets out. Then we have to go upstairs to watch reruns. Why didn’t he see it when it was bowled, this is such a stupid rule.

Hmmmm, I say, you might have a point there.

It is like if we were at war and the enemy was approaching and we said, oye there, wait a minute, hold it, stop, we have to check out the terrain and ensure our pickets are manned and the artillery ready to shoot and scoot and only then can we decide to let you go or stay.

You know what, he says, cricket was a lot more fun and honest in the old days, at least the willow whacked the leather without flirting.