Lima Cricket

A picture tells a thousand lies. 

Played my first game in Peru, at Lima Cricket and Sports Club, for a team whose name I cannot pronounce or spell, and play in the most ludicrous of purple hats. Eigernossen?

A fabulous bastion of ex-pat life if ever there was one. Clubhouse is called The Cricketers for M.C.C's sake, and they serve Fish and Chips, in newspaper! If you're going to be not living in Peru, you should do it in style, I say.  

And what is less Living In Peru than a game of cricket? That's right, a good piece of driving, I hear you cry (at the pun).  

My otherwise totally undistinguished performance was rescued by a combination of the digital revolution, social networks and no small amount of skill from the wonderful Christine Kradolfer, who I have to thank for this cracking photo. Split second earlier, no top hand at all. Split second later, legs already cramping. But such is the timing (of the camerawork) that somehow the one shot I did middle is captured forever, and now published for the entire world to enjoy.  

Unlike Argentina, regrettably, Cricket Peru is an almost exclusively ex-pat affair. As such, I found more than anything I missed the bizarre Spanish-Spanglish-CricketSpeak that had evolved in Argentine Cricket. To speak in English on the pitches of, well, let's be frank, San Albano was to invite a world of tobogando, as the bitter banter of a pair of not so tiny Paterlinis arrived to remind you that you were a visitor in their country, and to get the papas fritas back to your own if you wannaspeakininglish.  

But, like all dying languages, this one is worth recording.

Credit and thanks to the great Argentines Derek Culley and Nico Schulte full much of this, and especially to the surprisingly trilingual Ryan Butta for the following A to Z for Spanish Cricket Jargon

And yes, this took about 3 years or ropey slip cordon banter to complete. (Like cricket, about 10 people in the world will find this brilliant...):


Agricultural = ... del campo
An Angry Scotsman = Un Escoces Enojado
Bowl = Bolear 
Bowler = Boleador/a
Bat = Batear 
Batsman = Bateador/a

Backward point = a tras de la punta

A BOUNCER = Seguridad

A Chinese Cut = Un corto chino

Chin music = La musica de la barbilla

Cifras del boleador = Bowling figures

Cricket = El creequet/croquet

Cricketer = Un creequetero/a 

CREASE = arruga

POPPING CREASE = arruga estallando

Cow corner = Esquina de vaca

To catch = Atrapar

A catch = Un catch 

To catch like a crocodile = Hacer un 'worsnap'

To field = Fieldear

The field - La cancha 

GOOGLY = Un Politico - looks like it's spinning one way, but on arrival it spins the other way

Gully - un arroyo 

Ground fees = Roberto (as in Robert de Niro (dinero) 

Fine = Fina 

Fine leg = Pierna fina 

First slip = primer resbaloso and so on..

Full Toss (vulg.) = Paja llena

LBW = PFW Pierna delante de los palos

Long on = Largo encima

Long off = Largo afuera

Silly mid off = Medio tonto 

Silly mid on = Medio tonto encima

MICHELLE 5-for = Un Capital Asiatico/Singapor/Cinco por... 

NO BALL = Sin pelotas

Retired hurt = jubilado lastimado 

Run Out = Corre Afuera o Victima del Salvaje  

Short leg = Pierna corta/enano

Square leg = Pierna cuadrada 

SEAM = parece...  He is getting some nice parece out there

Sledging = Tobogando

Stumped = Quedar manco 

TO SLOG = slogear

A SLOGGER = un slogeador/a

SWING = el eswing

Six biscuits = seis galletitas, o 'media docena' 

IN-SWINGER = Portia di Rossi

AWAY-SWINGER = Elton John 

REVERSE SWING = Ojo! Parecio un Elton John pero en realidad era una Portia de Rossi!

The Thing! = Cualquier Lowen

Wicket = Los palos

TO WHIP eg "He whipped it from outside off stump") = Azotar!? "Lo azoto de afuera de los palos. Que bateador!" 

WRONG 'UN =  Un equivocado

And two phrases, for the master class only... 

HE NICKED IT THROUGH TO THE SLIPS. "El lo schulteo a traves de los resbalosos!"

HE NICKED IT, THE KEEPER WENT UP, BUT HE DIDN'T WALK. "El lo schulteo, Luli Fernandez (a real keeper) subio, pero no camino... Pelotudo. No es el cricket para nada."  
* The verb "To nick" derives from the great Argentine batsman Nico Schulte. Hence in the past simple, lo schulteo means he nicked it * 

Surfing in Pipa

It has always upset me how women seem to fancy surfers rather than cricketers. Being a cricketer, I devoted my teenage winters to the loving practice of oiling my bat rather than vainly waxing my board.  

While the cricketer modestly keeps his equally well-honed Scottish opening batsman's physique behind yards of smartly pressed whites, your average surfer lollops along the beach like some sort of half-naked sporting neanderthal. 

No sex wax was required for me to have a good day of honest sporting fun. Just a sun hat, factor 60, a spare rubber and eleven other chaps just as happy hitting the leather as I was.  

Still no euphemisms in this entry. 

Cricket never caught on in Brazil. Apparently, if my history serves, whilst being colonised by the beastly Portuguese, the slave driving brutes packed surfboards when they should of course have packed the more sensible British option.

That is: whites, sun hats, six stumps, two sets of bails, a lawnmower, 3 bats, 2 balls, 6 pairs of pads, a couple of cod piece fitting boxes, batting and keeping gloves, spikes, a couple of batting helmets for the under 15s, a heavy and light roller, a pavilion, covers, a scorer (he'll have his own stationary), two ladies to do the lunches, vaseline, twenty two gentleman and two umpires with a copy of the rule book each.   

The beach on Pipa was a case in point. For some reason, women prefer to waste their time watching this sort of thing than honour the greatest game at, say, Raeburn Place during a drizzly 4 hour Edinburgh Accies' batting performance.  

I have no intention of trying to sound like a know more about surfing than I do, but even a blind novice could how good this break is. Nice even right to lefts that would make an 8 year old look good. And I think the one to the right is a girl!    

And, when I zoomed right in, I saw that that very 8 year old was right there, being made to look good by the easy breaks. To misquote Dennis Hooper: I love the smell of emasculation in the morning. But I bet he couldn't read a tricky leg spinner. He'd play him off the pitch, which is the same thing. 

It's a mystery to me why women fancy these people. Look at this guy. And I know my wife did. I, for one, cannot see why anything here would be considered more alluring that a good forward defensive shot, never mind a cover drive. Women, eh?

Besides, weaving in and out of the boats, riding a wave in to the shore...? That sort of showing off smacks of insecurity. Whereas as a drop into the leg side and a decisive quick single? That'll get a pretty lady's heart fluttering.

I think that might be a pretty girly girl. Long board or long room, you should be making the sandwiches.

I rest my case. Bat Oil 1 Sex Wax 0. 

Australia side for 3rd Test

With all this Bring Back Warne stuff flying around, I thought I should get in on the Ashes act, rather like Bell at 4/452. Here's what should be the Australia side for the 3rd Ashes test because this - according to the comments in the Sydney Morning Herald - is what the supporters want.

Gone are the days when you knew the Australian team (and result) six months before the toss. The selectors just used to copy and paste from the ICC World Ratings. Now, they pick people called Xavier who haven't even had the decency to dominate English county cricket for a decade prior to selection.

Anyway, this is part SMH comments, and part me. I want the series to stay alive, so here's a few ideas to help Hilditch and co:

1. Simon Katich. Keep the Kat. Even on one foot he's still the people's choice. Ticker and stubble, what more do you need? Never really moves his feet anyway, and still averages over 45, so an ankle injury won't bother him. The Kat stays.

2. Kim Hughes. All this talk of young, untried Phil Hughes smacks of panic. Why look forward when you can look back, say the CA and Aussie suppporters alike. You don't need young kids with questionable technique and lack of ticker when you can have all of those plus age like that of ex-captain Kim Hughes, 56. He'd fit in a treat to Pup's side as not only does he have a girlie name, but made history as the first Australian man to show emotions, crying in public back in 1984. Plus he's got the sort of form with the bat that would make even Ryan Harris feel like a hit in the nets: 2 runs in his last 4 Test innings.

Shocker.

3. Mike Hussey. Batting as well as anyone in world cricket at 6, why move him? Because with a tail longer than a cartoon cat, the Huss needs to be in 3. Bear with me while I type this final sentence, referring to him as Mr Cricket, as a contractual obligation. (Note that no one is mentioning his appalling shot against Finn on Day 5, Morning, in the hope that it'll all just go away. I haven't forgotten. Shocker!)

4. Michael Clarke. Captain. Lead the way to defeat with a dreadful 80 before succombing a brilliant piece of bowling from Kevin Pieterson, who bowled a ball towards him, Pup is the man to take over from Ponting. Hated by half the team, he's become a lot like Mike Brearley, just without the art of captaincy.

5. Marcus North. Total shit whose technical deficiencies when playing spin have apparently been exposed by the review system: the problem being that he doesn't really use his bat. Thank God for video technology to pick up that one, and well done umpires. Harris and has a similar problem, but at least he's honest enough to 'shoulder arms', like Strauss.) Smiles whimsically when he gets out, as such good to have him around in case one of the players' cats die; they might need a cuddle.

6. Ian Chappell. Had a fight with Botham in a car park only last week. That's what Australia needs: someone who hates these tourists with Pauline Hanson-like bile. Would kick the sh/t into Marcus North at the other end, which might even induce him to score a run when the score isn't already 440/3

7. Brad Haddin. Loved in Oz like the taste of a cold gold beer opened with your eye socket after walking out on the wife. If you combine his name whilst drunk, he's basically Bradman.   

8. Shane Warne. Bring back Warney! The walking tabloid headline is the answer Aussie prayers: truth be told, England would still be absolutely bricking it facing Warney, at Perth of anywhere else, and no amount of Graeme Swann's media spin bravado will stop that. Only available for every 7th over due to media commitments: still more dangerous than Doherty's best ever ball to a blind man.

9. Ryan Butta. A combative Australian currently honing his technique on the uncovered pitches of Argentina: frankly, the stats speal for themselves. Seaks confrontation like a Bush Administration Foreign Policy, is just the sort of player to ruffle some English feathers, in any of three languages. Like Warne, committment subject to media offers. Like Clarke, has experienced the highs and lows of captaincy. Full info here.  

10. Ryan Harris. Can only improve with the bat, and gutsy as you like with the ball. Good man to have in a fight, which half that middle-order might want, the other will need. 

Dougie's left arm spin didn't cause KP
 the problems Australia had hoped.

11. Doug Bollinger. Because a dark side of me wants to watch Pieterson bat against him again. That would have been illegal in some countries. (See image, right)

12th man. Tim Zoehrer. The ultimate twelfthers. Second best leg spinner in Australia. behind Warnie. Second best wicket keeper in Australia since 1967, behind Marsh, then Healy, then Gilchrist, now Bradman. Second best cricket writer too, behind Phil Lutton.

Dropped. Ricky Ponting. Hasn't made a hundred in nearly a week, so like Sachin is clearly past it, was never a number 3 anyway and can't play spin, and looks a lot like George W Bush. Who needs that at first drop?

Not picked: Phil Hughes. Got 86no last innings, averages over 50 in Tests and 1st Class, he's too good and too young for the current selectors. The man with an off side technique modelled on Alistair Cook's should get plenty of runs this series, but still no one's convinced. Back to back hundreds against the no1 team in the world count for nothing these days. Langer's gushing press conference backing him seems a little odd, particularly the line about Hughes being "special under pressue", months after dropping him questioning his ability to, you know, play under pressure.

Game on, next Thursday. Oh. one change to the England side: Flintoff in for the injured Broad.

The Ashes, or How A Marriage Looks On Cricinfo

"October can be a difficult month for the cricket fan.
It's when he realises that his wife left him in May."

It's called Test cricket because it's the ultimate Test. 5 days of attrition, 5 long days of fighting over every ball, of scraping for every wicket. It is the true test of whether you are a man or not. It's all good macho stuff.

Strauss' average plummets after claims that
Cook's replacement is Aussie 'plant'.



I am, of course, not referring to the Ashes matches themselves, nor the players. Those primadonnas have it easy. I'm talking about the true sportmen being put through their paces: the armchair spectators who face something far more terrifying than an angry Joel Garner in poor light on a rock hard Antigua deck.

I'm talking about facing the wife.  

You think facing 90mph bowling from 20 yards is tough, you try selling the fact that you fully intend to ignore the kids, the house, the outside world, the phone, unpaid bills, mounting admin, invited dinner guests and all else for 5 days straight, 5 times in two months, for the most incomprehensible, inexplicable of sports: Test Cricket. Give me Allan Donald any day.

There are few things that will get the heart going like facing the wife on the morning of Day 1 of a  Test Match, knowing that you've got 15 more sessions like this to go. The stakes are high: play well, and you could be in for a fifty (uninterrupted first session), or even the dream, a Test century (full day's play, with uninterrupted lunch breaks).

Don't expect more than that: not even Bradman went out expecting to bat for 2 days, and you are no Bradman. More likely you're Bell: quite classy in favourable conditions, but fundamentally there are still questions about where you head's at.

Preparation
Preparation is the key, and you can't start on match day. You fail to prepare, you prepare to fail.

The Cricket Lovers' Wife is part McGrath, part Warne. Brawn and guile. With around 1000 scalps in the bank before this series, there are no playing conditions where she's not dangerous, no amount of planning or acclimatised preparation in an oxygen-free hydroponic batting net tent that can prepare you for Day One, Morning Session.

But plan you must.

The week prior to the test is key, as it's way too late by Thursday. Sort the house, clean the car, pay the bills, take the kids off to wherever the f'hell they go during the day, get the girls' day out booked in early. Treat yourself, dear, you deserve it.

Discipline
Do NOT do any of the following in the final week: do not mention the cricket, do not say the word 'Ashes', do not bookmark cricinfo, rehearse on-drives in the living room. and never ever ever get caught late at night scrambling for the remote control to switch off the 2005 Ashes DVD Box Set. If you are very lucky she will think you were watching pornography, and let's hope she does, cause if it's Freddie's hundred in the 4th Test, it's all over.

Match Day
If you've done your preparation well, you should be good for match day. Let's say you've played a blinder, the Husband Hundred, and you're settling in for the full day. Golden Rule: stay humble. The bowling might look unthreatening, but any ball is good enough to get you out. The last you thing you want is to come this far and get Run Out backing up. Katich.

And this is how it translates.

What A Marriage Looks Like On Cricinfo
Well, after all the talk, and the preparation, here we go at last. Wife is bowling to a very attacking field. Three slips, a gully, and a man under the helmet. Husband will take on the new ball. He's been in good form, and prepared very well through the week, buying flowers and getting a range of household chores done, but the real challenge this morning is how to cope with the aggression and late swing of Wife, who has his hard new cherry in her hands.

0.1 Wife to Husband, Ah. Is the cricket on then? No, no, enjoy it. You're 'earned' it.138.4 kph, Wife sends down a gentle loosener there well wide of off stump, and Husband has nothing to do with that. Good foot movement early on, but not interested in playing at that. Husband looks very focused out there, as well he might, a lot at stake.



0.2 Wife to Husband, Are you... planning to watch... much? 142.3 kph, no run. Questions asked already and a dreadful mix up there, shades of Katich-Watson there. A good ball on off, Husband defended into the covers, said "Yes... wait... no!" before grovelling back to his ground. A lot of nerves out there.  

0.3 Wife to Husband, Who's winning? 144.3 kph, ooh, that's nasty. Wife knows that'll wind him up, but tempts him toplay at a wide one. Canny bowling, she's really getting in his head, and comes a long way down in the follow-through, but Husband sensibly avoids eye-contact.  

0.4 Wife to Husband, It's just that there are a few things we need doing... 141.7 kph, no run. Wife asking questions all the time here, she's settled into a lovely line, and Husband just can't get off strike. I'm not sure if Husband's technique stand up to this constant barrage. 

Warney for Channel 9 is loving it: "I've been in a few of these skirmishes myself." he chuckles. "Best plan: get to the other end and keep your head down!" Well, he'd know. Back to the action.  

0.5 Wife to Husband, And I've had the kids all morning. 145.6 kph, no run. That was quick. Hint of a no ball, as Wife lets go a nasty bouncer which flashes across Husband's eye line. 'Smell the leather' the Windies used to say. Husband is clearly troubled by this, a wicket looks inevitable here.

Steve, from Melbourne, texts in. "This is like McGrath to Atherton!" You're not wrong, Steve. You're not wrong.    


0.6 Wife to Husband, How long does this game last anyway? OUT, 146.2 kph, gone! Wife strikes! That was absolutely unplayable. Stumps all over the place and there is simply no answer to that. Replays show nought but fear in Husband's eyes as that came down. I tell you what, he shouldn't be too upset, even Bradman didn't have an answer to those.  

Strauss v Smith update

Strauss is winning. And it has been Swann that's made the difference. Go you Onions last over blocking. Go you Saffa imports. Go you Strauss!

Strauss v Smith

Warning: This entry contains strong and frequent traces of cricket.

England v South Africa

After a bizarrely unsatisfying Ashes series victory, England take themselves to South Africa to continue to not really dominate the world of cricket. On the back of a one day series that had England become only the 2nd foreign team to win a 1 day series on that soil, the question raises itself: why does no one still think they're any good?

In this series, England won 2 games in their sleep, and got absolutely hammered in the middle. The other two got rained off.

It was like mini-Ashes. When England played well, it was as though everyone was waiting for the bubble to burst, but sort of went with while it lasted. Collingwood batted like Strauss, Anderson swung it and therefore won a game within half an hour, Strauss caught like Collingwood.

Only hours before, Collingwood batted like Strauss circa 2006-7, Good Anderson bowled like Bad Anderson, and Struass caught like Panesar, dropping 3 catches in an hour.

Has there been a more perfectly imbalanced series as the forthcoming one between England and South Africa this winter? I would suggest there hasn't, and this is in no small part becuase England are essentially playing England. Or, the Trottskyists might argue, South Africa are playing South Africa.

But like South Africa, England look a good side when, and only when, their captain is at the crease.

They make for interesting comparison, the two captains: Strauss and Smith.

They're both captains, who took over their teams in relative peril. Smith took as captain when he was ridiculously young, 22, and the first thing he did was kick out Lance Klusener - a demiGod in South Africa at the time - who he thought was a divisive influence in the dressing room. A massive call. He essentially did to South Africa what Nasser Hussain did for England - kicked out anyone he didn't think had the hearse and turned them into the side that recently beat Australia in Australia. His 150no to win the series against England in England is one of the great Test innings (although, obviously, I wanted him to lose, and he was, as ever, plump lbw on early in his innings). Strauss took over a coachless/managerless England team destroyed by another South African, KP, in the West Indies, and turned them into an Ashes winning unit in 3 months. Sort of.

They're both lefties (batsmen, that is; one suspects not politically), and both open the batting. Although while Strauss, in form, plays with silken and effortless, his innings punctuated with grace square of the wicket, Smith often looks like his batting with half a tree, half a shovel, and somehow makes a perfectly played ondrive look hideous and arthritic.

Both are brave cricketers. Smith's bravery is more obvious; he would bat with two broken hands and temporary blindness if he thought he could help South Africa win a friendly. Strauss' is more of the public school type: he might sound like he'd run for Mummy if someone called him a chubster, but don't be fooled. He got a hundred against Australia inspite of Warne saying lots of things about his Mummy, and Brett Lee hitting him on the head every 15 minutes. More tape, please, don't call Matron.

Smith has the superior average, 50 to Strauss' 44, but Smith does get to bat against England's bowlers, and at regularly bats at the runfest that is the Wanderers, whilst Strauss has to bat with the comically straight-limbed Cook, and plays at Chester-le-treet in April, which is surely worth 6 runs a year.

Both field at slip, although Smith's nucket hands make in anatomically impossible for him to drop a catch, like dropping a football into a volcano. Strauss generally catches blinders.

Both carry the hopes of their country on their shoulders, and have both recently won series against Australia. When Strauss makes runs, as he did all summer against the Australians, the side looks balanced, confident, purposeful. When the captain falls early, so does his team, like skittles, often all of them before it's even time for lunch. When Smith doesn't get out early - which actually means, if he survives the inevitable and palpaply out LBW shout in the first 2 overs - South Afrca wins. When he falls, they collapse like only... England can.

But then there are the differences.

First and foremost, it's very hard not to like Strauss, whilst it is physically impossible to do anything but loathe Smith, with his George W face and massive hands. Strauss is a gent and is, in spite of being brought up in South Africa, unimagineably English. Smith is a bully. Strauss, I have no doubt, would find a stray cat and search the streets for hours to return it to its owner. Smith would think about it, then kill, skin, and eat the cat if he thought no one was looking. According to cricinfo, Strauss went to Radley and then to Durham, wheras Smith has no education whatsoever.

These are the simple facts.

The rest
Without Kallis, the rest of the team are like a carbon copies of each other. Cook and Amla: both good, both fail to convert good starts.

Both teams have talented middle orders who average in the 40s by scoring like this: 10, 10, 0 ... should we drop him... 150no! Totally unreliable. Duminy looks the best bat, but is in Bopara-like form and Swann, the best spinner, might have him pinned.

Both have compative, pugnacious and yes unpleasant but quite good wicketkeeper batsmen in Prior v Bouncher. Broad is a good all rounder but miles from the finished product, and so becomes a tasty Morkel. Anderson and Steyn are world beaters... when fit, when it swings, and when the good one turns up.

Is that such a surprise when the England team is very South Africa. In order of South Africanness, you have Trott (he's there right now!), Pieterson (famously), Prior (born there), Strauss (born there).

Either way, I still find that I want England to beat South Africa more than anyone. With Australia it's like fighting Goliath. But with this lot, for some more than others, it's a bit like they're playing themselves.

Enjoy the series.

Over and Out.

(Warning: this entry requires some knowledge of, or interest in, cricket)

Holding to Boycott. Warne to Gatting. Ambrose to Jones. Flintoff to Ponting.

From time to time a single over in a cricket match is so sensational, so reflective of the best of game, so packed with incident that it moves immediately from cricket field to cricketing fokelore

Well, kindly add to the list : Fergusson to Paterlini.

To those of you, and there can't be many left, who haven't read about it, or heard about it already, from the mouths of taxi drivers or landlords or soothsayers, here's the full story, straight from the Hurlingham Horse's mouth.

The context.

Hurlingham v San Albano. Traditionally a meeting of gentleman and hoodlums, where the blood runs high and the insults fly, where Northern grit overcomes Southern spite. This occasion, a First Division Declaration League match, was to be no different.

San Albano wins the toss and bat.

Opening the batting is a figure of controversy, one M Paterlini, perhaps Argentina's most talented batsman: a man whose strokeplay is as sweet as his mind is sour.

I came on to bowl the 11th over, with the score 43-1 (Paterlini 19no), of a game that was moving along surprisingly quitely and sedately. The key word in that sentence: was.

This is what happened next.

The Over

Ball 1: The loosener.
Paterlini has clearly seen this bowler before. First ball he dances down the wicket and smashed a straight drive down the ground, over the ropes, through the trees and half way across the fairway for 4. "Go fetch your sheeeet, Englishman," he thinks. 47-1

Ball 2: The reply.
Straight drive that! You can't. Cause it's a wide outside off stump. Bowler has a polite word to the umpire. 48-1

Ball 2: The second reply.
Short and wide, hit into the ground to the fielder. No run. Order restored to the kingdom. 48-1

Ball 3: The beamer.
High full toss, mistimed to cover. Called 'no ball' for height. Bowler has another polite word to the umpire. "Shut up and bowl," Paterlini tells Fergusson.

Fergusson shuts up and bowls. Paterlini not ready. Various comments pertaining to "Shut up and bat" are heard. Some verbal sparring.

Bowler is still whinging about the no ball.

Umpires meet, tell everyone to calm down. Bowler told to shut up and bowl, this time by his team mates.

It was never a no ball. 49-1

Ball 3: The mis-field.
Short and wide again, batsman mistimes to cover. One R Butta, combative Australian, fails to stop a ball that is barely moving. 1 run taken. Batsman laughs at fielder. 50-1

Ball 4: The single.
All round good bloke Tommy Frances drives a full toss to mid off and takes a single bringing the far more interesting Señor Paterlini back on strike. 51-1

Ball 5: The mis-field: Part II
Short and wide, Paterlini again mistimes a cut but picks his fielder. Ball once again passes through hands and legs of one R Butta. Paterlini, laughing, says words to the effect of, "You are sh*t" to fielder. Bowler agrees. Fielder goes mental (and white, and a little scary).

Umpires intervene. Paterlini and Butta involved in verbal sparring. Captains intervene. 53-1

Ball 6: The straight one.
Not only straight, but swinging, and fast, as Paterlini tries to flick it through the off side, off and middle stumps are splayed by a Younis-like inswinging yorker. Bowler screams like a happy, yet angry dog. Batsman walks off. Slowly. 53-2

Folklore people. Tell your grandkids.