CRICKET CLUBIt's a story of lines: vertical, wide, narrow, black, colored. The story comes from afar. It comes from when we used to play in the mud and would return home all dirty and sweaty, our socks gray. Our shoes, destroyed. Two swats from mom before dinner, and then eyes downward, fixed on the plate. We used to watch the lines on Sunday, dreamt of them on other days.
The story comes from legend.
The story comes from another era. The story is that you had to wear a jacket to be able to play a game.
It was a matter of respect.