The King and I

From Nepal, we moved to a more developed cricket nation for some more Twenty20 matches.

India – home of the Indian Premier League (IPL), the late Mother Teresa and more than one billion people in less than half Australia’s land mass.

Crowded you think, that’s an understatement, and a Delhi train station, our 13-hour train ride or a wander through the streets of Jodhpur (located in India’s north), rammed that point home and managed to hit every single bodily sense along the way.

From the beggars, to the kashmir rug shops and dodging motorcycles, bicycles, camels and tuk-tuks in between, was all simply part of a normal day’s existence.

So was a journey on a rick shaw but it had the adrenalin pumping more than a ride on the Bush Beast at Sydney’s Wonderland and brought me closer to the outside of a moving bus than I had ever been before.

But as Tim Robbins famously said as Andy Dufrense in the 1994 movie Shawshank Redemption, "get busy living, or get busy dying".

From the Jodhpur street scene to the Indian state’s highest point – the Mehrangharh fort – and dinner under the stars, in full view of the stunning speckled city and semi-desert, complete with traditional Indian music, dancing and food, with none other than the Maharaja (the King of Rajasthan).

And no, the King of Rajasthan was not Shane Warne, despite the fact he lead the Royals to victory in the 2008 IPL and the Victorians tried to vote him into power.

But in all seriousness, no words will do the magic of that star lit night any justice, however, it was a fitting way to spend our final meal together after almost seven weeks on the road.

In between the geographical highs and lows in India we experienced three Twenty20 matches (won two and lost one) at the Railways Stadium (a ground former Australian test player and Invincible Lindsay Hassett played on during WWII).

All matches were complete with music and commentators, some Rajasthan cricket representatives, on a deck that struggled to reach above Mini-Me’s knees, and an infield that would have been more at home on the dusty confides of the playground behind the Manse at St Peter’s in 1999.

Beyond the boundary and while still in the sub-continent there was also a safari-like trek in a jeep to remote villages and an opium farm all owned by a mysterious, yet friendly man named the Colonel; a tour of the Royal Palace; cricket bat hunting; an overabundance of cultural dances, music and traditional welcomes; and more curries than this chicken schnitzel loving boy from Bolwarra had ever come into contact with before.

And just like that, it was over.

One more hand of euchre in Jodhpur airport when our aircraft was delayed for an hour or so but we had done it.

Around the world in 50 days.

Nine countries, four continents and 24 matches.

A cricket experience, actually an experience, none of the tourists will ever forget, and for me, at 22-years of age, bloody lucky.

A couple of runs, a couple of wickets and a couple of beers with good people sharing good times all around the world.

Part of me did not want it to end but when the big kangaroo hopped into Mumbai I was one happy little Vegemite.

The freedom flight had arrived, people understood when I said, “G’day, how ya’ going”, Angus and Julia Stone were playing on the radio and I was homeward bound to 44 Kensington Road: Julie’s baked meals, Will’s beer out of the back fridge, Aimee’s laugh, Dan’s guitar and a much needed hug from Al.

Thankyou for sharing this unforgettable journey with me and I hope you enjoyed reading about it as much as I enjoyed doing it.

Until next time…

Josh Callinan

Pic: Two boys from country NSW and the King of Jodhpur. Wingham's Ben Cole (left) and me with the Maharaja in between.

Cricket, curries and organised chaos

Have you ever heard the saying – it goes through you like a hot Indian curry?

Well, it really does.

Whoever uttered those infamous words was spot on the mark.

Curries in India are seriously hot and can force grown men to desperately call for water, to cringe and cower in pain, and to lose weight in less time than a Todd Carney binge drinking session.

The final leg of the 50th anniversary Australian Old Collegians (AOC) World Tour took us to Asia and while India was on the cards, first stop was the home of the Himalayas – Nepal.

We arrived and immediately the humidity hit us like an Anthony Mundine jab and we left Kathmandu airport with sweat on the brow, flowers around our neck, an orange dot on our head and a spot on national television.

A trip down town on our air-conditioned bus (all windows down and overhanging fans, covered by nothing more than a rusty metal cage, at full throtle) was a real eye opener.

Sacred cows wandered the streets, poverty lined the pavement, monkeys posed as sparkies on power lines Energy Australia would not believe, and piles and piles of stench-ridden rubbish dominated the gutters.

And the traffic – there’s lots of it and there’s no road rules.

It’s dead set honk the horn and go for your life.

And I mean literally grit your teeth, hold your breath, cross your fingers, pray to whatever God first comes to mind, hope your girlfriend will take good care of your car at home, and go for it.

But after another novelty horn honk we made it through and while still alive in Nepal our touring group was able to kick a big one off Morgan Freeman’s and Jack Nicholas’ bucket list.

A flight: over Nepal’s answer to Kosciusko, over Edmund Hillary’s playground, over the mother of all mountains – Everest.

Absolutely magic!

We also tried rice wine (code word for rocket fuel) and travelled to a traditional Nepalese village, hidden amongst the rows of rice paddies, and we witnessed the real faces of this country, beautiful friendly children and an old bearded man smoking out of a large cylindrical instrument (but that’s another story).

On the cricket field, which was beautifully set at the foot of the Himalayas, we played three Twenty20 fixtures in hot and humid conditions against many of the Nepalese under-19 national players (They won three matches at the under-19 World Cup in Malaysia earlier this year, reached the plate final against the West Indies and gave Australia a run for their money as well).

We were well and truly outclassed in all facets of the game, especially with the ball and in the field, and consequently lost all three matches.

Former Sri Lankan representative Roy Silva is the head coach and he has done extremely well with local talent.

Not only that, but the interest in cricket in Nepal was unbelievable.

We had at least 300 people at each of our matches, including many village children, and made the Himalayan Times each day.

Hopefully the Australian Cricket Board can help out the Nepalese cricket family with junior development through money or equipment because it would go a long way towards assisting a developing nation striving to improve its home grown talent.

Josh Callinan

Pic: A typical passenger on a Nepalese ute.

Down under in the Old Dart

I have travelled half way across the world to play cricket in the Old Dart and the only bowlers I have faced are Aussies.

It’s like facing up at Lorn Park and seeing the likes of Matthew Trappel, Andrew Kealy or Michael Eccleston ready to send down another delivery against Northern Suburbs, just with different scenery and sporting a vest to battle the slightly colder conditions.

Alright, I may be over exaggerating, it was not that cold (I actually wore thongs, or should I say flip flops, for three days in England) and not all the bowlers I faced were Aussies – there were some New Zealanders and South Africans as well.

In all seriousness, out of the four matches I played in, just three of the bowlers I confronted were Englishmen.

At Old Hill against the Midlands Club Cricket Conference, we were up against Belmont all rounder and NSW Country Representative Mark Littlewood (4-11 from six overs).

It was a similar story with the bat.

In the same match Littlewood (38 not out) combined with QLD Country Representative, and comfortably the best batsman we have come up against this tour, Brian May (80 not out) to ease the home team to victory.

Four days later against the Middlesex League XI at Ealing, it was 2006 Australian under-19 representative Jackson Bird (2-15 from six overs) as well as two other Australians, two New Zealanders and a South African.

Against the Club Cricket Conference (CCC) at Bushey Park, Teddington, it was South African Wes Morrick (78) who did the damage.

And in the AOC’s final match in Pommie Land the tourists were up against the internationals again with Auckland opening bowler and English county player Lance Shaw (5-30 off 15 overs) and Australian Michael King (4-66 off 14.4 overs) playing the starring role for the Marylebone Cricket Club (MCC) at Arundel Castle.

Unfortunately we went down in all five of our matches in England but we were up against some tough opposition.

Our final match at Arundel Castle, the same venue that has been used by the Australian team for its first match of previous Ashes Tours, presented the best opportunity for a win and the AOC fell just 11 runs short of the 184 runs required for victory in the time and declaration match.

Batting at nine, Rob Flanagan made a dashing 27 not out in pursuit of victory instead of shutting up shop and playing for a draw against the MCC, the oldest cricket club in the world.

Flanagan also took 3-36 from his 11 overs in that match and Terry Humphreys bowled tightly for figures of 1-45 from 18 overs, which included eight maidens.

In other matches Flanagan was the only batsman to stand up at Old Hill with a fighting 47 while Humphreys also made a fine half-century against the CCC.

The match against the CCC was a special one for the AOC because it will most likely prove to be the last overseas innings (36) for Australaian rugby league representative and AOC veteran Les Johns, who embarked on his final world tour in 2008.

We played on some magnificent and historic grounds, saw the big London sights (Lords, Big Ben, Parliament, Westminster Abbey, London Eye, Wimbledon, Baker Street and Madame Tussauds), visited Shakespeare in Stratford-Upon-Avon, and discovered the real meaning of lunch and tea at the cricket.

I also have a greater appreciation of why the Ashes means so much to the Australians and after suffering a white wash in England (although nowhere near the scale or importance of the battle between the national teams) all I want to do is go back and beat the Poms.

Josh Callinan

Pic: Holding up the Belmore, I mean, Tower Bridge.

Castles, customs and Cuddles

From downtown Dublin we left for Glascow, Scotland, in an aircraft more suited for Fred Flinstone than flying.

But we arrived safely, despite one Northern Suburbs player (aka Terry Humphreys), who joined the tour in Dublin, attempting to get through customs without his passport - Oh Terry!

We settled in Coatbridge, ten minutes outside Glascow, and before long we had picked up a straggler from the side of the street.

He was a rough looking bloke with thin brown hair and bloodshot eyes from the night before and he was wearing a red tracksuit top, dirty shorts and no socks.

Welcome aboard Josh “Cuddles” Geary.

Cuddles, better known in Maitland as the opening batsman for Northern Suburbs who counts himself dreadfully unlucky not to bowl more, is currently playing for Dumfries in one of the Scottish national leagues, and he decided to join up with the AOC World Tour for a week.

For the sake of his parents Pat and Trish, who will be reading this from the comforts of their Ashtonfield lounge room, I will spare you all the stories but Rob “Flash” Flanagan and I looked after him, he always had a roof over his head and overall, he is doing well.

Although, he may need some more money, new underwear and a pair of fresh socks, sooner rather than later, to survive the fresh Scottish summer.

In Glascow we played two matches at Drumpellier, including one against former NSW player Ed Cowan, for one win and one loss, while the final match, at Titwood (a one-day international approved ground), was washed out.

Flash scored valuable runs in game one to help us get across the line in the final over while Customs (aka Terry Humphreys) batted well for 74 runs on day two.

While in Glascow I tried haggis, (a local word for deep fried mince and let me tell you I won’t do that twice), had a week’s worth of the most satisfying hot breakfast’s and also managed to drink a couple of Tooheys Extra Dry at the Walkabout Bar, which were easily the best brews of the tour.

If there is one thing I have learnt while being away, it’s that Australia has the best tasting beer anywhere in the world.

What’s even better is that no one really knows about it other than Australians because the only beer from down under that is exported overseas is Fosters – and no one in Australia drinks Fosters.

From Glascow we went to Edinburgh for a night, with the likes of Keira Knightly and co for the film festival and a sneaky look at the infamous castle.

From the land of Loch Ness it is onto the Old Dart for a five match series (Bring on the Ashes!).

Josh Callinan

Pic: Edinburgh Castle

In love with the luck of the Irish

I have been swept off my feet, I am completely and madly in love, and I am down on one knee ready to propose.

Ireland, will you marry me?

From the moment I laid eyes on the evergreen fields that lace the land of leprechauns and four leaf clovers, Ireland and its people have cast a magic spell on me stronger than a Harry Potter potion at Hogwartz.

It started with the girl at the airport who generously gave me the inside running on what pubs to frequent in Dublin, then the gentleman at customs smiled and let me through without a landing card, and to top it all off, the luggage trolleys were on the house.

Just when you thought it could not get any better, it did – the Australian Old Collegians (AOC) squad was picked up by a bus company called Callinan Coaches (Coach of the Year 2008).

It’s only the best service for Aussies in Ireland!

But the dream run did not stop there, it just upgraded from Erin McNaught to Jessica Alba.

Instead of going straight to the hotel we were transported directly from the airport, with uniforms still on and luggage in the boot, to the welcoming gates of Ireland’s finest institution – the Guiness Factory (I’m not sure if this says anything about the Callinan drinking habits but that’s another story!).

With such a top start to the morning it was little wonder that I felt completely at ease upon arrival in Ireland, especially coming from The Big Apple.

What a contrast downtown Dublin was when compared to the hustle and bustle of downtown New York and a district like Times Square.

In Ireland the district is Temple Bar and after a grade three Chinese burn it was off next door to this mystical community and the luck of the Irish kept falling our way – the beer was cold, the live Irish music was playing and the people were just happy.

The Irish are so friendly, so easy going and show a genuine interest in talking to you and sharing a laugh, actually, lots of laughs.

On the cricket field we won two from two (Malahide and then Strabane in Northern Ireland) and both were 10 run thrillers where victory was only secured in the final over.

I picked up two man-of-the-match awards, skippered the team at Malahide and broke my captain’s duck on tour but it was the shenanigans afterwards that struck harder than a Brett Lee bouncer.

Following the official post match presentation and dinner we shared in some sterling renditions of traditional Irish ballads like Danny Boy and When Irish Eyes Are Smiling.

We quickly replied with some Aussie classics such as Waltzing Matilda and Advance Australia Fair (despite the fact that most of us, except the man known as Stuart “the human iPod” Aley, only knew the first verse and chorus of both tunes).

Another Irish highlight, another magic moment, another reason to fall in love with Ireland.

The only thing left for me to decide is when I am coming back.

And that all depends on whether or not she accepts my proposal!

Josh Callinan

Pic: Another Guiness anyone?

Do you guys play baseball?

If I had a dollar for every time that a North American asked me what cricket was, I would not have paid for a beer in the last two weeks.

“It’s just like baseball” I explain to the avid and inquisitive, yet slightly confused, American sports fan – “but better”.

This response has reeled in more perplexed expressions than Daryl Cullinan facing Shane Warne but it has definitely been worthwhile.

So has the North American leg of the Australian Old Collegians (AOC) World Tour.

From a surprise helicopter ride over Niagra Falls (on my 22^nd birthday) to the depths of despair at Ground Zero in New York, and from the hallow turf of Yankee Stadium to the heights of the CN Tower in Toronto – the last two weeks have been an absolute whirl wind.

And although the beer in this part of the world does not taste anywhere near as good as Tooheys Extra Dry on a summer’s afternoon, or any afternoon for that matter, it has not seemed to matter at all.

On the field during the last two weeks we have played five matches and won three against players ranging in abilities from Canadian internationals to rich, retired businessmen.

Our first match in Vancouver was played at Brockton Park, which lies within the confines of Canada’s beautiful Stanley Park.

It is a venue, which has been described by Sir Donald Bradman as the “prettiest ground in the world”.

And after playing cricket amidst the greenest of grass, seemingly endless rows of long, slender pine trees, superbly crafted totem poles, on the edge of a beautiful harbour, with ice capped mountains in the background – it is hard to disagree.

Beacon Hill Park in Victoria (Vancouver Island) was also picturesque while in the east of the country, the Toronto Cricket, Skating and Curling Club proved difficult to play on with a hessian mat-like surface laid on top of an unprepared pitch.

But another venue highlight, besides a pub in Victoria aptly named the Sticky Wicket (we definately got stuck on a sticky wicket that night), would have to be our unscheduled match in the heart of New York’s famous Central Park.

A group of nine Australians playing cricket as a stream of yellow taxi cabs drove past and passers-by stared in our direction as if to say – that’s not baseball.

Consequently that morning, my faithful Slazenger V1200 made history by becoming the first ever cricket bat (as far as I am aware) in the Empire State Building, Madison Square Gardens and Times Square.

The people have been just as random as the experiences and who would have thought that half way across the world you could meet so many travellers from Maitland.

First of all, former Maitland Mercury sports journalist Cecilia Peoples watched our match at Brockton Park, then Maitland cricket umpire Glen Crew was lining up for a helicopter ride at Niagra Falls, and I also met the brother of my Year 8 metal work teacher (So, if you read this Mr McGrath, your brother and his wife said to say hello).

An amazing fortnight and with 31 days still to look forward to – bring on the UK!

Josh Callinan

PS – I am in serious trouble on the euchre score board. Flash 11 – Cal 4.

Pic: "Take me out to the ball game." Me at Yankees Stadium in its final year before being demolished.

Argentina Ace

I am six-one down on the euchre score board and its not looking good five days into a 50-day world tour.

Cessnock John Bull Shield skipper and Kurri Kurri Station Hotel player Rob “Flash” Flanagan has me playing and missing like Mike Atherton against Glenn McGrath on the opening session of a 1990’s Ashes contest.

I’ve had more bad hands than a country full of Edward Scissorhands and in the process churned through partners like Lindsay Lohan on a big night out.

From a bar in Santiago airport to an Argentinean hotel room at six in the morning – I’ve barely had a look in.

But the one match I did win was as sweet as the 2007/08 grand final win against minor premiers City United at Robins Oval.

What made it even better - it went down to the final card.

It was down to the final hand, both teams all but, and the winner would take home the last of the unopened beers.

I was teamed with Victorian tourist Darren Fletcher while Flash was partnered by Tamworth’s Steve Newman.

Hearts were trumps and lead on the final play where Flash, in third position around the table, put the queen of hearts down with a rather confident flick of the wrist.

For at least two and half seconds he thought he had won, so he slowly started to rise from his seat to victoriously punch the air.

Both bowers were gone, as was the ace, but Flash slowly slumped back onto the bed when I produced the king of hearts and needless to say I could not help but smile as the beers made there way back to room 704 with me.

This tight finish was similar to our first match at the 120-year-old Hurlingham Sports Club, which besides cricket, hosts the Argentinean Golf Open, has the only lawn tennis courts in Latin America and is home to an exclusive polo club.

We, the Australian Old Collegians (AOC), were up against the Argentina Cricket Association (ACA) President’s XI, featuring six national players, and the Aussies claimed victory on the last ball of the day.

The ACA needed two runs off the final delivery to pass the AOC’s score of 200, and one run to tie.

It felt like I was back at Lorn Park for the third time in two years playing in another down-to-the-wire-contest against Tenambit Morpeth.

But unlike tied matches between Norths and the Bulls, this time there was a result, and I was able to grab a run out from my bowling to secure the victory for the tourists.

The AOC also won game two the next day against the Buenos Aires XI, featuring eight national players.

An unbeaten start to the 50^th anniversary AOC World tour against a nation who has a 200-year-old cricket tradition (started in 1806).

Combine this with a cocktail party at the Australian embassy, sit down lunches at Hurlingham and a visit to La Boca (the area where Maradonna’s Boca Juniors play) – Argentina has been a wonderfully hospitable experience.

Now, when we get to Canada, all I have to do is win a euchre hand.

Josh Callinan

Pic: My euchre enemy from Heddon Greta Rob "Flash" Flannagan and I ready to check out the sights of Buenos Aires. My smile was even bigger after I beat him with the final card.