We can watch the cricket? Really? Promise?

(very nearly entitled A Post especially for Anonymous of Sarajevo)

Given our total overexcitement of being able to watch most of the 20 20 Cricket series last month, you can imagine the excitement in the Brits In Bosnia household when it was discovered that not only can we watch the Ashes (the England vs. Australia cricket for the non-Brits amongst you), we can even watch it live.

No, Eurosport has not suddenly decided to broadcast it (for some bizarre reason 5 x 5 days of cricket was not top of their list to show in Bosnia). It turns out that you can watch the games live, online, for a small fee, if you live somewhere where the English Cricket Board hasn't sold the rights of the games to. So, to the fellow Brits in Bosnia, if you want to watch the matches or their highlights, ECBTv is where to go.

We will be watching far more of the cricket here than we would be able to in the UK, given that we refuse to pay Sky for the priviledge. The summer working schedule has just been thrown out of the window.

Is that cricket?

Dave loves cricket. Absolutely adores it. Will watch all 5 days of a test match and then watch another 5 the following week. Has seriously been considering going back to the UK for the entire summer this year in order to watch England play Australia in The Ashes series. Sadly for him, he also abhors Sky and refuses point blank to buy any channel they offer, muttering darkly about the evils of media control and using words that are not printable in any way or form. This (and an ability to adhere to principle which I can only admire) means that he has not been able to watch cricket on TV for the past 4 years.

Earlier this week he casually switched on the TV and nearly fell over in shock and excitement to discover that the TV was showing the 20/20 World Cup live (for the American and non-British readers who don't have a clue what I am talking about, it is a big cricket competition and all terrifically exciting). Not only were they showing it, but it was complete with Bosnian commentary.

Where, we asked ourselves, did they find a Bosnian with enough knowledge of cricket to commentate? They seemed to know what they were talking about - at least we heard cries of 'sest!' and 'cetiri!' in the appropriate places (that meaning six! and four!), and suitable intakes of breath at a disguised googly. Tragically we then let the side down a bit by spending the rest of the evening in an attack of the giggles, imagining the Bosnian translations for 'gosh, is that a pigeon flying over silly mid point?', 'I say, this lemon drizzle cake sent in by Mrs. Miggins of Upper Toddington is jolly good', 'the batsman's Holding, the bowler's Willey' and 'Oh Aggers, do stop it'.

We had to wonder if there was anyone else in this country watching the matches? And we had to remark upon the irony of having to live abroad to watch an English national game live on TV. Dave is waiting with bated breath to see if he will get to see The Ashes after all.