Well who'd have thought it? England winning the Ashes for the first time since 1989 - nearly twenty years.

But blood and sand what a sight for sore eyes, what a gladatorial spectacle, what a soul inspiring inspiration to see such a cathedral of achievement built on the blood sweat and tears of honest endeavour, finely honed skills, chance and ruthless competition.

Ah, but what is cricket? I suspect that many North Americans do not understand what this magnificent game is, perhaps they've never even heard of it! I'll let you into a secret here, I don't really know an awful lot about the game myself. But this series has captured the imagination of even those that don't actually follow the game, in much the same way that once every four years Americans are fascinated by the all beating US tiddlywinks team in the Olympics. Rah rah rah. USA USA USA.

But cricket is subtler than patriotism. The closest comparison that I can think of is baseball, a game like cricket, that I barely understand. They both have bats, they both hit balls and there's a world of psychological gamesmanship that is the weft and the warp of its fabric. But cricket is also about one man against himself, as well as the wider duty to the team. There are battles within battles all of which are consequent upon the wider war, that of your team against theirs.

Unlike many American, popular, insular games (so called world series), there is a deep rooted history that adds spice to each and every confrontation. In rugby I support two teams, Wales and anyone that plays against England. In soccer, Wales first and probably then England oddly enough. Why? Because rugby in no small sense defines Wales on the world stage, only New Zealand is as passionate about its rugby. The nearest that America gets, I'm guessing, is the US vs Canada in ice hockey.

But I stray.

What exemplified the Ashes tests was the conduct, of its players, its followers and the ethos of the sport. Fair play. Respect the referee (umpire in cricket). Friendly rivalry, hands shaken afterwards, beers shared in the bar between opponents, gentlemanly conduct, respect for your opponent. Appart from the odd bit of good natured sledging at the wicket (wicket-keeper to batsman: How's your wife and my kids?). It's much the same in rugby. A fiercely violent contest in which people occasionally die; after the game is done the war is over and people make friends with the enemy. What happens on the pitch stays on the pitch.

Which brings me to football (soccer). Without a shadow of a doubt, this game attracts the worst sort of knuckle dragging thuggish lout that the world knows. Go on, name me one other sport that has so many violent supporters willing to kill one another in cowardly gang warfare. I used to watch football, the most popular game in the world, but over the last few years I've grown jaded and cynical about it. It's changed from a tough, physical, endurance and skill test to a greedy ballet of theatrical cheating and diving skills fit for the olympics.

An intriguing column in the Guardian recently observed that there were few scoring opportunities in football, and an awful lot of money. When those few scoring opportunities represent so much money, the incentive to cheat reaches a crescendo, and so does the reaction against such cheating. Score lines of 1-0, 2-1 and so on in a game which largely consists of simply passing the ball around from one player to another with little contest augments the frustration for excitement, and when that lonely opportunity rises to be quelled by a cheat, or a mistake by a referee, the frustration breaks into a torrent of spiteful violence by those that feel robbed.

Games like cricket or rugby allow many scoring opportunities, there is less chance in the outcome, more blame to be heaped upon individual and team performance. Random factors still play a part, but for the most part, people understand the rough with the smooth, they respect the referee, and above all seek to enjoy the spectacle before them and not despise the opposition.

Except when Wales play England in rugby of course!

yechdda,