KEY POINTS:
Not so many years ago I'd have been lining up at the gates of Eden Park today, or at least looking forward to this afternoon's game on television. I used to love cricket and would like to love it again.
Many times in recent years I've tried to work out why and exactly when a game that captivated me for so long somehow lost my interest. And I wonder how many of us there are.
It might help to re-light the flame if I had noticed when it died. But I didn't; there was never a conscious disaffection. The last series I remember was in Australia when Shane Bond was knocking them over and our batsmen had worked out how to play Warne and not to play McGrath.
Then Bond broke down and, looking back, that might have been the moment. The team looked limp without him. But I'd followed them through lean times before. Why not that one?
Maybe it was the game that changed. The 20-over slog was devised about that time and it sounded like cricket had lost its soul. But I'd been dubious about the 50-over format until I saw it. I've never watched 20/20, never given it a chance.
There have been other changes in the game since then. Indian professional leagues are sucking the players away, much as rich sponsors in England and France are doing to our rugby players, yet I'm still following rugby.
Whatever has happened to me and cricket, it seems impervious to effort. A few weeks ago I was in the vicinity of Eden Park when the West Indies were opening their tour against Auckland and since the sun was shining and I had the day off, I paid $10 and went in.
The match was about to begin. Nothing in sport used to excite me more than the first few balls of a cricket match. Of all the games I've tried to play, cricket is by far the hardest.
It is unforgiving. Play the wrong shot in tennis or golf, miss a rugby tackle or drop a pass and there are usually ample chances to recover. Misread the trajectory of a cricket missile just once and you're probably finished.
And nothing in sport feels more foolish. One moment you are the centre of attention, the next you are dismissed in every sense of the word. You walk away trying to look astonished at the whims of fate and neither the fieldsmen you pass, nor your teammates when you reach them, want to catch your eye.
It was hard enough batting down the order, I can't imagine what it is like to open an innings, when the bowlers are bursting with energy and the best a batsman can do is keep his head straight, eyes horizontal, shoulder to the bowler, raise the bat on the delivery stride and hope to see the ball.
So I settled down on the grass above the mid-wicket boundary rope and the Windies came out to field. What could be better. They always had the most fearsome bowlers.
The Auckland batters came out, fussed over the wicket and the field as usual, then faced up. The first ball sizzled down and was blocked. Then the next, and the next. A scrambled run was taken. I was trying not to admit I was bored.
Most of the other spectators looked as dedicated as I remember. A woman nearby, who'd brought a collapsible chair, regarded me with patience when I asked the names of the batsmen. One of them, she said, was playing for a place in the Black Caps.
He was still in when I left, having forced myself to see out an hour.
Across the Tasman this summer South Africa have shocked Australia, overhauling record second innings targets. I could have tuned in to it on television but didn't. I really don't know why.
Nor do I know that cricket needs to care; the Eden Park 20/20 was sold out and, weather permitting, today's one-dayer might be too. But if serious cricket is worried, I want to be helpful.
Probably my interest has been exhausted subconsciously by the symbiosis of satellite television and professional sport. They feed off each other, creating too much of a good thing.
The players need fulltime employment, the channels send it around the world. International contests are so frequent that few seem to matter as much as they used to. It takes a rare event such as a quadrennial World Cup to make anyone care.
Cricket, like rugby, needs to find a way to make every match matter. Long established professional games such as soccer and baseball must have found the essence of competitions that keep enthusiasts interested year after year. It can't be too hard. Here's one lover cricket could recover.
