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venkyloquist 's review for:
Penguins Stopped Play
by Harry Thompson
One book which perfectly fits the category of the aforementioned quote of the genius is the memorable “Penguins Stopped Play – eleven village cricketers take on the world” by the late Harry Thompson. Remarkably hilarious and laced with an irrepressible sense of wit and wisdom, this is one work which every book lover in general and a lover of cricket in particular would savour to the hilt.
A motley crew of also-rans deprived from experiencing the exhilaration of playing the pristine gentleman’s game by more accomplished cricketers, decide to take things into their own hands by forming a team of their own with the inspiring name of Captain Scott’s XI (a tribute to the legendary explorer who perished in his endeavor to obtain ‘Pole position’). Captain Scott’s XI is comprised of an extraordinarily eccentric bunch of self-proclaimed batsmen, self-anointed bowlers and universally pitiful fielders. But the one thing which binds this resolute eleven is an unyielding and unbending determination to play the game.
Tours are organized as the proud Captain Scott’s XI scour the seven continents (literally) to face many a proficient team and more funnily many a perilous incident. Whether getting entangled with Customs and immigration authorities at various airports, or frolicking with scantily clad Argentinian women in an isolated pub, or getting an absorbing game of cricket remorselessly disturbed by an obstinate group of spoilsport Adelie Penguins, the Scott’s XI plough on unrelentingly in their mission to distinguish themselves in white in various parts of the world ranging from Sydney to Singapore, Kuala Lumpur to Delhi and even in the Arctic and Argentina.
Endearing characters and their embellished escapades continue to linger and loiter within the confines of the reader’s mind and unerringly bring a smile to the lips even long after the last page of the book has been completed. The personalities between the covers are fascinating, fiendishly funny and flamboyant. Eiran, the Michael Bolton look-alike with his drop-dead gorgeous looks is not only a fabulous hit with the ladies but also a proficient middle order bat and an avid lover of narcotics. The barrel chested Sean, the sibling of Eiran is hopeless with both bat and ball, but a force to reckon with upon his biceps being tested in a brawn! The two opening fast bowlers Riaaan and Aidaan are poles apart both in their outlook and their out swingers. While the former is an epitome of line and length and nagging accuracy, the latter is a mood bowler who whilst on his day can make Jeff Thomson look like a kindergarten warden, when not in one of his memorable moods makes Mark Ealham look like Tarzan the Ape man!!! Then there is the suspicious and creepy Greg who whilst not spending time engaging in emotional blackmail, does his fair bit by playing many a dour innings at the crease.
Come rain or shine nothing seems to come in the way of the indefatigable spirit of the Scott’s XI. Wins and worries are treated with equal equanimity. Whilst a bruising bashing (more the norm) is relegated to the deeper recesses of memory by drowning in kegs of beer, any surprising and miraculous victory (an obvious exception) is also impartially forgotten by copious consumption of the same alcoholic beverage!!
All in all “Penguins…” is one book which will make the reader live the book, laugh the story and love the experience. It is no wonder then that this fascinating author who unfortunately lost his match with cancer was buried in Brompton Cemetery with a bat placed in his hands and a ball beside him. This is one batsman who will forever be “NOT OUT”
A motley crew of also-rans deprived from experiencing the exhilaration of playing the pristine gentleman’s game by more accomplished cricketers, decide to take things into their own hands by forming a team of their own with the inspiring name of Captain Scott’s XI (a tribute to the legendary explorer who perished in his endeavor to obtain ‘Pole position’). Captain Scott’s XI is comprised of an extraordinarily eccentric bunch of self-proclaimed batsmen, self-anointed bowlers and universally pitiful fielders. But the one thing which binds this resolute eleven is an unyielding and unbending determination to play the game.
Tours are organized as the proud Captain Scott’s XI scour the seven continents (literally) to face many a proficient team and more funnily many a perilous incident. Whether getting entangled with Customs and immigration authorities at various airports, or frolicking with scantily clad Argentinian women in an isolated pub, or getting an absorbing game of cricket remorselessly disturbed by an obstinate group of spoilsport Adelie Penguins, the Scott’s XI plough on unrelentingly in their mission to distinguish themselves in white in various parts of the world ranging from Sydney to Singapore, Kuala Lumpur to Delhi and even in the Arctic and Argentina.
Endearing characters and their embellished escapades continue to linger and loiter within the confines of the reader’s mind and unerringly bring a smile to the lips even long after the last page of the book has been completed. The personalities between the covers are fascinating, fiendishly funny and flamboyant. Eiran, the Michael Bolton look-alike with his drop-dead gorgeous looks is not only a fabulous hit with the ladies but also a proficient middle order bat and an avid lover of narcotics. The barrel chested Sean, the sibling of Eiran is hopeless with both bat and ball, but a force to reckon with upon his biceps being tested in a brawn! The two opening fast bowlers Riaaan and Aidaan are poles apart both in their outlook and their out swingers. While the former is an epitome of line and length and nagging accuracy, the latter is a mood bowler who whilst on his day can make Jeff Thomson look like a kindergarten warden, when not in one of his memorable moods makes Mark Ealham look like Tarzan the Ape man!!! Then there is the suspicious and creepy Greg who whilst not spending time engaging in emotional blackmail, does his fair bit by playing many a dour innings at the crease.
Come rain or shine nothing seems to come in the way of the indefatigable spirit of the Scott’s XI. Wins and worries are treated with equal equanimity. Whilst a bruising bashing (more the norm) is relegated to the deeper recesses of memory by drowning in kegs of beer, any surprising and miraculous victory (an obvious exception) is also impartially forgotten by copious consumption of the same alcoholic beverage!!
All in all “Penguins…” is one book which will make the reader live the book, laugh the story and love the experience. It is no wonder then that this fascinating author who unfortunately lost his match with cancer was buried in Brompton Cemetery with a bat placed in his hands and a ball beside him. This is one batsman who will forever be “NOT OUT”