@ elodieunderglass if people haven't been exposed to cricket before, here is the experience. The person who likes cricket turns on a radio with an air of happy expectation. “We'l just catch up with the cricket,” they say. An elderly British man with an accent - you can picture exactly what he looks like and what he is wearing, somehow, and you know that he will explain the important concept of Yorkshire to you at length if you make eye contact - is saying “And w’ four snickets t wicket, Umbleby dives under the covers and romps home for a sticky bicket.” There is a deep and satisfied silence. Weather happens over the radio. This lasts for three minutes Agentle young gentleman with an Indian accent, whose perfect and beautul clear voice makes him sound ke a poet sipping from a cup of honeyed drink always, says mildly “Of course we cannot forget that when Pakistan last had the biscuit under the covers, they were thrown out of bed. In 1957, | believe.” You mouth “what the fucking fuck” Amorally ambiguous villain from a superhero movie says oft-microphone, “Crumbs everywhere.” Apparently continuing a previous conversation, the villain asks, “Do seagulls eattacos?” “I'm sure someone will tell us eventually.” the poet says. His voice is so beautiul that it should be familiar: he should be the only announcer on the radio, the only reader of audiobooks

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