There are few rivalries as celebrated as that between the Poms and Aussies.  Add in a dash of cricket and you have the perfect festival for Australians and Brits to claim their respective superiority and supremacy. Since it’s endless banter and cruel humour that are the order of the day it’s all pretty harmless stuff although there are a fair few wagers lost and won that can be painful to the wallet.  Such rivalry is mainly a male preserve, not exclusively, but my observation is that sporting rivalry is usually just a polite way of being able to return to their primal instincts and show who’s boss.

Cricket fans, unlike football fans, seem to have the ability to keep their cool and rather than throw a punch in frustration simply drown their sorrows in another beer or perfect their sulking skills. The Ashes seems to generate elite level rivalry between Poms and Aussies. Certainly MT has a lavish dinner riding on the result and thankfully the bill will be in his favour this year compared to four years ago when we last ventured across the ditch to watch the Ashes in Melbourne.

This year’s pilgrimage to the MCG was a little more special as my in-laws are staying.  It’s fair to say that excitement levels were high as we ventured out on the 27 December to take our seats.  It was a gloomy start to the day but experience of last time showed that the Melbourne sky can play cruel tricks so you have to be prepared for all weathers.  Despite being wrapped up well it was freezing cold sitting in the stands for the first session but by the end of the day we were basking in sunshine.

Being in the Melbourne Cricket Ground is an awe inspiring experience.  It holds 100,000 people but wherever you sit it still feels like you’re in a pitch side seat.  I had severe lens envy as I watched the professional photographers wander the edge of the pitch carrying their mammoth zoom lenses which bring them right up close and personal with the players on the pitch. Whilst the pitch was being prepared and the umpired readied the stumps I was happy to play with my smaller lenses to test out the angles and get a feel for the photographic, I mean sporting, atmosphere.

I was determined to get the first moments of play which after all was a momentous time with Poms into bat after the Aussies had disgraced themselves the previous day being bowled out for a meagre 98 runs.  Oh the Aussie shame.

Suffice to say there was plenty of opportunity to take photographs.  After all cricket moves at it’s own gentle pace.  I admit that there were a few moments when I was distracted looking for other things to turn my camera on.  Mostly I was entranced by the ebb and flow of the game which you can enjoy in ways that the cameras of TV coverage just don’t give.

I did a spot of crowd watching too which had it’s own entertainment value.

The most entertainment came from the Barmy Army of course that were in fine singing voice all day.  Can’t help feel that sometimes the stadium security staff were a little overzealous seeking to hold back the tide of Mexican Waves that rippled through the crowd of 67,000 people.  The fans prevailed and the Barmy Army carried on their tuneful support as the Poms continued to march all over the Aussies on the pitch.

At the end of the day the crowds trooped home muttering about the days play.   The Poms seemed to hold their heads high and excitedly chatter about the play whilst the Aussies were more sombre and subdued about the inevitable result.  But I know well how those Aussies were feeling, after all this is a competitive sport with winners and losers change from year to year. With so many Brits living in Australia and so many Aussies in the UK the Ashes is a sporting festival where the balance of fans of the travelling team are better balanced than most such competitions.  I thought this article gives a great insight to the dilemmas of being a England cricket supporter in Australia.

Once again I was charmed by cricket and reminded that what a great day out it can be.  With a few one day matches coming up in Wellington I might venture forth for another sporting adventure.  And maybe I’ll leave my camera at home.  Or maybe not!