BEACHCOMBER 106 YEARS OLD AND STILL NEVER STUMPED FOR WORDS...

THE Beachcomber Towers polar bear never ceases to surprise me. At breakfast the other morning, he astonished me by saying how much he was looking forward to the fourth Ashes Test match.

His previous comments about all sports had been uniformly negative: golf was just people using sticks to knock balls into holes; tennis was arguing about which side of a net people want a ball on; football was a ridiculous spectacle of two sides kicking a ball in opposite directions and rugby was just a belligerent version of the same. I asked why the Ashes was different. “The other games,” he said, “are pointless. Cricket is a perfect reflection of life itself.” “Can you expand upon that?” I asked. “Yes,” he replied. “Fetch me another cup of tea and I shall do so.”

I fetched him more tea and after sipping it, he began his explanation.

“First of all,” he began, “I should point out that in other games the contestants are usually trying to do the same thing, albeit often in different directions.

“In cricket, you have one player launching hard balls at another, who has only a stick to defend himself. This is just like real life, where your enemies are often not trying to do the same thing but merely foil your attempts. “Furthermore, when the stick-bearing side have lost the battle to defend themselves, roles are reversed, introducing a symmetry sadly absent in real life. “And furthermost of all, whoever is on top after five days, the two sides call it a draw simply because it is raining. No tie-break, no penalty shoot-out, just call it a draw and move on to the next game. “This is the epitome of civilisation and a perfect analogy for real life. In Test match cricket, you have two groups of fit people exerting themselves for five days, then, just because it is raining, they call it a draw.

“In the real world, one may also find one’s efforts frustrated by circumstances beyond one’s control. The vagaries of unforeseen factors such as pandemics, politics, war or economics may upset our plans, just as the weather or Mr Bairstow wandering down the wicket to do some gardening may stump our cricketers. Such moments teach us to take life’s disappointments in our stride.”

I shook the bear’s paw warmly, told him I agreed with everything he had said, and we finished breakfast in contented silence.