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COPYRIGHT 2005 The Spectator Ltd. (UK)
A stranger to this country curious to know what summer means for the English, and to sec for himself the rituals involved, should take himself to St John's Wood during a Test match. There, at Lord's cricket ground, which for many Englishmen is a sequestered arbour of Elysium here on Earth, he will find much to inform, amuse and perplex him.
First, let us dispel the notion that he need know anything of cricket--a game that may last five days without either side winning--since the white-flannelled players are no more than a pleasing backdrop against which the spectators--I use the word loosely since the spectating is at best fitful--may indulge their appreciation of what it means to be relaxing in the open air on a summer's day. Naturally, it would be good to picture the scene as sunlit, the flickering players enacting their mysterious and leisurely...
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