Rain, rain stay away, but not this time
The Proteas women's team's cruel elimination from the T20 World Cup made us supporters look like farmers complaining about the weather.
Jaco van der Merwe.
Being a Proteas cricket fan seems like the old saying that the farmers are never happy with the weather.
You heard it.
If it doesn’t rain too much, then it rains too little.
Some 28 years ago the rain gods played the cruellest trick on the Proteas when they took on England in the World Cup semifinals in Sydney.
With rain taking up all the reserve time earlier in the day, the Proteas had a sporting chance of reaching the final by needing 22 runs off 13 balls.
But rain came down just hard enough to hold up play and with the minutes ticking by, the balls left went to seven and then to one by the time play could restart.
A farcical rain rule meant the target remained unchanged and South Africa were knocked out.
Last Thursday the Proteas women’s team needed just 10 more minutes of rain for their World Twenty20 against Australia to be washed out for them to qualify for the final by means of a no result.
The rain had already washed out the first semi at the very same Sydney Cricket Ground earlier in the day and then helped in reducing the second one to 13 overs per innings.
But instead of coming down again like in 1992, it stopped, screwing us from the other side.
Being on the wrong side of the weather reminds me of an old joke.
Every day on his way to work, a shy young man noticed an energetic pensioner openly engaging in conversation and laughter with
women half his age.
He scraped enough courage together to approach the old man in an effort to acquire a valuable tip or two to enhance his own lonely love life.
“Easiest thing in the world, boet,” the pensioner said.
“I simply whisper in a woman’s ear: ‘tickled your nose with a feather’.
“If they take the bait and flirt back then lekker and if they take offence, simply act statesmanly, clear your throat and sternly say ‘I said particularly nice weather’. You can’t lose.”
Next day the young man, palms sweating feverishly, finally leaned over to the young woman seated next to him.
“Uhhh … so are the two us going to hit it off?”
Sheepishly realising how he messed that one up, judging by the woman’s and his eavesdropping mentor’s reactions, he lowers his head in his hands.
“Oh crap it is going to rain.”
Sounds familiar.
Jaco van der Merwe is The Citizen’s Head of Sport.
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