PatPenguins Stopped Play
January 4th 2008 04:19
This is going to be a friendly review, which is odd because this is a book about cricket. I expect that anyone reading this review who is either female, or from a country without a British colonial past, has stopped reading after that first sentence. And quite frankly, that's probably for the best.
Don't get me wrong though; I love cricket. I am watching cricket as I type this very sentence (update: Adam Gilchrist just dropped a sharp chance to dismiss Harbajhan Singh off the bowling of Stuart Clark at the SCG), but books about cricket are, without exception, dull, and I make that statement with the proud distinction of never having read any of them.
I remember reading a couple of books by Max Walker which were allegedly about the sport when I was a youngster and I don't remember them even mentioning the game, and instead dishing up a serving of hilarious anecdotes (ha ha ha - I am laughing just thinking about it) ghostwritten on Mr Walker's behalf. It seems that every cricketer of note these days has turned out a biography (or two); most of which were written before the subject had even reached the age of 30, which leads me to assume that they will be filled to the brim with more hilarious anecdotes and maybe a couple of insightful philosophical gems about how to succeed in the pressure cooker of Test cricket (while putting up with the hilarious antics of their team-mates - ha ha ha).
This book is different. Sure, it's a collection of hilarious anecdotes, but I use the adjective with utmost seriousness in this sentence. The premise of the book is almost that of a tour diary as the writer leads his extraordinarily amateur cricket team on a world tour, with the goal of playing a game of cricket on every continent (including Antarctica) in his sights. Harry Thompson is a genuinely entertaining writer with a conversational style which superbly brings across his personality, which is a combination of a proper British gent with a strong sense of 'fair-play' and the drunken lad looking for a good time with his chums while on a jaunt abroad.
Of course, it's no surprise that this book is clever and well-written. Thompson is credited as being producer and/or writer for Never Mind The Buzzcocks and Da Ali G Show, among others, wrote the biography of Tintin's creator, Hergé, and in 2003 was listed by The Observer as one of the 50 funniest or most influential people in British comedy.
I didn't know that when I picked up the book, but there were a couple of reasons why I was always going to enjoy reading Penguins Stopped Play.
Firstly, Thompson writes in the style of a jolly Times columnist - knowledgeable, witty, enthusiastic and ever-so-slightly smug - and this is exactly what I like in a writer. I was given this impression from the very first page and the appearance of a character by the name of Giles, who Thompson claimed to be a columnist for The Times, clinched the deal for me. You see, Giles Coren is a restaurant reviewer for The Times, and coincidentally (and perhaps embarrassingly for me) is my favourite writer in the world. As it turns out, I read a piece by Coren some months earlier about his experience in a Kuala Lumpur karaoke/brothel and the connection became vividly apparent with the appearance of Giles on Thompson's cricket field.
Of course, Coren's article is much funnier than this and I encourage you to read it - Really Long Link - and to be quite honest, this review should have just been that link, followed by the words 'more of the same'. It is an excellent article.
Secondly, I am a extremely amateur sportsman myself (not a cricketer unfortunately, but I can probably lay claim to an equal level of pomposity by admitting to be a rugby player) and the overriding result of reading about the mishaps of a bunch of un-athletic Englishmen was that I became motivated to do something similar with a bunch of un-athletic Australians. Dangerous stuff.
Sadly, Thompson passed away shortly after the completion of this book, which puts a depressing spin on proceedings; however this book is the story of a man who loved life, and more specifically, loved his life filled with cricket and it's hard to feel sorry for the man who so obviously enjoyed his life like this. In fact, I'm pretty jealous of the dead bastard.
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Comment by Harry
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Comment by Anonymous
Some good/boring points. You failed to comment on the following:
1. How do you recognise a penguin? Well, it usually looks like it's wearing a tuxedo and getting ready for a formal dinner party.
2. Penguins star in the hit flick 'Happy Feet.'
When will you realise that cricket is less than entertaining, and penguins bring joy to so many?
Next time, how about writing less about dead people's associations with 'Da Ali G Show' and more about the wonders of the Animal Kingdom.
Thankyou for your time
Joss.