The dentist’s chair is not the place to relax. Visits to the mouth doctor must be on everyone’s list of voluntary torture, and now that we understand much more about the importance of oral hygiene and the many afflictions that might result from poor dental care, torture sessions have become more regular.
My dentist has state-of-the-art equipment and a wonderful “bedside” manner, which helps. Nothing in his modern clinic resembles the unforgettable description of a dentist’s tools by Graham Greene in The Power and the Glory.
Tench, a decrepit English dentist, is a main character of the novel, set in 1930s revolutionary Mexico, and his approach to dentistry and the description of what his patients endure are enough to convince anyone that the exquisite pain that only a carious tooth can inflict must be preferable to an encounter with a Tench.
Fortunately, large, flat TV screens provide the corrective imagery at my dentist’s clinic and obliterate Greene’s fictitious image that lives in my mind’s eye. Instead, my fellow patients have the rare (possibly) chance to view sports of all sorts, but mainly cricket, since my dentist is a cricket fanatic.
The distraction works perfectly for this armchair sports fan. Last week, it was particularly effective. I hardly noticed the awful sounds of suctioned moisture and metal on enamel as my eyes became glued to the colourful antics of what looked like cricketers playing something that scarcely resembled the game of cricket as I know it.
I enjoy the retreat that a Test match affords – four or five days of sheer relaxation punctuated by moments of exhilaration – but the game on that TV screen was not even like a shortened, limited-overs game.
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It was hectic: every ball was walloped and batsmen lasted only about three runs. It was noisy, and the bright players’ outfits contrasted sharply with the memoried serenity of players all in white. It was clearly a TV event – loud sound effects, clipped short edits of the play frequently intercutting to the raucous audience.
It was The Hundred, one of the newest incarnations of the old sport born in England and Wales in which each of two teams plays 100 balls per single innings, lasting 2.5 hours.
It is the antithesis of Test cricket, which requires focus, intelligence and strong character. It raises the obvious question of whether Test cricket can endure if players increasingly change the way they play and hone other skills?
Such new formats satisfy today’s short attention span and desire for instant gratification. They seem in tune too with the time pressures of today’s world and much more a game for all, more akin to football.
Sports do not exist alienated from society. They reflect it, and that might explain why we are here now. Historically, inequalities existed in the game, and players sought ways to earn a proper living from it. I vividly remember the 1970s, when Kerry Packer paid top international players big bucks outside the framework of
