Appreciation

Issue #51

How many things do you really appreciate? As in, having a refined sensibility that takes pleasure from its finer aspects beyond whatever surface thrills it brings?

Artists who have inhabited their art for decades have it. But that still leaves the rest of us on the outside, craning our necks to catch glimpses of greatness, unsure if we have.    

Even if we are not creators, we could be refined consumers who appreciate art . . . through long immersion. Our appreciation is unlike that of the artist, but we can develop a taste for it. And when we do, and we catch that glimpse that strums our senses to the artist’s thrum, we are captivated.

All this is to say, I envy those who have it . . . as I don’t have it for anything.

When I hear an oenophile extolling fine wine, I don’t feel that intoxication. When a car enthusiast extolls an air-cooled engine, I don’t get revved. My appreciation for music and painting is not knock-me-upside-the-head level.

To really develop a taste and appreciate something requires years-long immersion and love, and I have none.

Or so I thought. . . till I found that appreciation welling up in me quite unexpectedly.

The occasion was a watch party for the finals of a cricket world cup tournament (the variety known as T20). I haven’t followed cricket in decades except for reading occasional articles when something major happens. Like a world cup final.

So, when the invitation came to make merry with a jolly group of friends, I said yes – and fun it was with whooping, hollering, highs and lows.   

I will spare you the details of the match. If you follow cricket, you know India won (after wringing sweat off your palms), and if you don’t, it will drain the tears out of you. So, let’s get back to taste and appreciation.

The Indian team has a bowler (like a pitcher in baseball) called . . . let’s say, JB (sticking to initials). I’d heard of him but never seen him bowl in a match. When I finally did, about halfway into this match, I was just mesmerized. (Perhaps the only relevant comp is peak Greg Maddux).

JB is atypical, starting his run-up with an odd stutter-step and finishing with an ungainly action that no coach would commend or recommend. But, somehow, he’s able to make the ball talk. (Cue Springsteen Thunder-Roading how he learned to make his guitar talk).

Here’s where the immersion comes into play.

Through much of my youth I was cricket obsessed, particularly about the art of fast bowling. I played a ton, attended many coaching camps, read books, experimented with grips and actions, tested in-match strategies, and a whole lot more.

But my desire exceeded my talent, so it all led to . . . middling . . . success on the field (at best representing the state junior team, and university). Nothing much, compared to many I had the privilege to play with.

And then I came to America, left cricket behind and moved on with life . . . except for the occasional watch party.       

When I saw JB bowl, I realized that fast bowling to me was Iike wine to an oenophile, or a classic roadster to a race car driver. My own passionate immersion made me appreciate the artistry on display, almost to the exclusion of the match itself. Almost. Luckily, it was a thrilling match with a favorable outcome.

I’m thankful to JB for unearthing a long dormant part of me.

I hope you have something in your life that stirs you like that.         

End Notes

If you’ve come this far you probably know that I also have a thing for words and sentences. :)

#artistry, #cricket, #insight, #learning