HAVE you noticed that now the Black Caps have made Sunday's Cricket World Cup final, everybody is trying to jump on the bandwagon?
Yes, ever since Grant Elliott wielded the hands of god and the inner calm of the Dalai Lama to tower one over the ropes in the Eden Park semifinal, everyone's wanted to get in on the act and have their say.
So why should I be any different?
As a purist who regards test match cricket as the acme of a game that requires physical skill and prowess combined with the mental steel and agility of a chess grandmaster, I have struggled to get excited by the one-day thrash-a-thon. There remain those baffled that two teams could nut it out over five days and still not find a winner when, in fact, this is the crowning glory of the sport.
But even I have to admit that the cliff-hanger against South Africa was a marvellous spectacle. Great television ... reality TV, I guess. But reality in the sense that genuine emotion and drama were on show rather than the fakeness of "reality TV". That game had the X factor - and even a bit of bullying of the South African bowlers.