My father was a man of his generation, which meant when summer rolled around and the cricket season started, he insisted on muting Channel Nine's coverage and blasting the ABC's radio commentary instead. Ours was a complicated relationship but one thing for which I'll be forever grateful was the way my father shared his love for Test cricket with me.
I grew up as a cricket obsessive. My love for the game survived childhood, adolescence, and even the realisation that, given I was batting No 11 for South Melbourne under-12s, my dream to open the batting for Australia was unlikely to be fulfilled.
So I dashed to the car when my mum picked me up from school, desperate to turn on the radio usually to hear one the great West Indies teams of the 1980s had yet again laid waste to the Australian batting order.
When my life took me away from Australia, it was always easier to find the cricket on the radio than on the TV. I sat in my London bedsit and listened with mounting disbelief to VVS Laxman crafting his masterpiece during India's famous come-from-behind victory at Eden Gardens in 2001.
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