Best 161 quotes in «cricket quotes» category

Sachin is the greatest role model I've ever met.

Sachin was so focused. He never looked like getting out. He was batting with single-minded devotion. It was truly remarkable. It was a lesson.

Sachin Tendulkar has carried the burden of the nation for 21 years. It is time we carried him on our shoulders

Overseas, language barriers keep me from doing a lot of talking and some of the jokes that I think are funny and they're like crickets. I have to sharpen up on that.

Sachin is the greatest player I have seen. I consider it an honour to have rubbed shoulders with him

Sachin Tendulkar is in my time the best player without doubt - daylight second, Brian Lara third.

The future of Indo-Pak cricket will depend on how the peace process goes.

Sending us Ebola bombs in the form of sweaty Glaswegians just isn't cricket.

She heard pa shouting,"Jiminy crickets!It's raining fish-hooks and hammer handles!

Silence And a deeper silence When the crickets Hesitate

The English invented cricket to make other human endeavors look interesting.

The key thing was to learn the value of economy with words and to never insult the viewer by telling them what they can already see.

Those were the great days when plenty of amateurs could spare time for cricket.

The other advantage England have got when Phil Tufnell is bowling is that he isn't fielding

The last positive thing England did for cricket was to invent it.

The only reason I would have liked to have gone to university is because I like cricket. Not a very good reason to want to go, but as good as any, I suppose.

Two things in India are religion - one is cricket, and one is movies - these are two things.

We have started calling him grandfather.

Very sorry to disappoint you, guys. It was not for my girlfriend but for Sachin Tendulkar.

Village cricket spread fast through the land.

At all times and in all places, in season and out of season, time is now and England, place is now and England; past and present inter-penetrate. The best days an angler spends upon his river – the river which is Heraclitus’ river, which is never the same as the angler is never the same, yet is the same always – are those he recollects in tranquillity, as wintry weather lashes the land without, and he, snug and warm, ties new patterns of dry-fly, and remembers the leaf-dapple upon clear water and the play of light and the eternal dance of ranunculus in the chalk-stream. A cricket match between two riotously inexpert village Second XIs is no less an instance of timeless, of time caught in ritual within an emerald Arcadia, than is a Test at Lord’s, and we who love the greatest of games know that we do indeed catch a fleeting glimpse of a spectral twelfth man on every pitch, for in each re-enactment of the mystery there is the cumulation of all that has gone before and shall come after. Et ego in Arcadia.

With Sachin Tendulkar and Brian Lara, it was better to be friends and make them smile rather than wind them up.

You can cut the tension with a cricket stump.

We living beings, right down to crickets, ants, mosquitoes , and flies, all possess life that is without beginning or end.

Well, all cricket invites attention.

Were cricket and football abolished, it would bring upon the masses nothing but misery, depression, sloth, indiscipline and disorder.

Archie Henderson has won no awards, written no books and never played any representative sport. He was an under-11 tournament-winning tennis player as a boy, but left the game when he discovered rugby where he was one of the worst flyhalves he can remember. This did not prevent him from having opinions on most things in sport. His moment of glory came in 1970 when he predicted—correctly as it turned out—that Griquas would beat the Blue Bulls (then still the meekly named Noord-Transvaal) in the Currie Cup final. It is something for which he has never been forgiven by the powers-that-be at Loftus. Archie has played cricket in South Africa and India and gave the bowling term military medium a new and more pacifist interpretation. His greatest ambition was to score a century on Llandudno beach before the tide came in.

As in diamonds so in batting, perfection requires flawlessness and nowhere is a batting imperfection more quickly recognised than in the dropped catch. For this reason any innings worthy of consideration deserves to have all its flaws studied to establish whether or not it is the genuine gem or just masquerading as one under the glitter of big hitting or weight of runs.

Before you start your full day of watching Equestrian Square Dancing, Soccer Balling, Hoop Dreaming, Cricket Batting, Rugby Punching, Volleyball Chopping, Skateboard Falling, Martial Arts Bowing, Bicycle Peddlers, and College Football Hecklers, maybe we have time to learn something Scientifically.

Batting is like another language for Sachin, he always answers his critics by this language.

Behind an able Indian Cricket Team there is always able Sachin Tendulkar.

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Bowling has the problem of wildly differing methods so that placing Wasim Akram against Bishan Bedi is rather like hanging a Rembrandt next to a Picasso and trying to produce a valid comparison.

Century was an occasional thing in cricket, Sachin made it frequent.

Enlightenment is playing every ball of life with perfection, sincerity and love without perturb by the blame or praise of the world.

Cricket must be proud, "I played by Sachin Tendulkar".

cricket my first love, its my passion

Come on! Think of Miandad hitting that six off Sharma. If he could do that, you can do this.

Compete vigorously and with passion in the face of uncertainty and intimidation.

Cricket is about a lot more than playing by the rules, Mistry. It’s a gentleman’s game. Don’t you ever forget that.

Football said,"Why I am not a cricket ball to get a shot from Sachin".

Far from marking the end of nationalism, the IPL is the ultimate triumph of that principle: a global tournament in which the same nation always wins.

He has played some outstanding innings in the past, and I've got no [sic] confidence whatsoever that he'll come back and play very well in the near future.

Heavenly weather really. If life was always like that. Cricket weather. Sit around under sunshades. Over after over. Out. They can't play it here. Duck for six wickets. Still Captain Culler broke a window in the Kildare street club with a slog to square leg. Donnybrook fair more in their line. And the skulls we were acracking when M'Carthy took the floor. Heatwave. Won't last. Always passing, the stream of life, which in the stream of life we trace is dearer than them all.

He glances down and notices that I'm still wearing a certain blue something, and, this time, it's HIS index finger that wraps underneath MY rubber band. I shiver wonderfully. "I'm never taking it off." Cricket brushes the delicate skin of my wrist. "It'll fall off." "I'll ask you for another one." "I'll give you another one." He smiles and touches his nose to mine.

For once cricket has claimed you, it never lets you go

Hell! His beard grows fast as blazes, like a damp wicket in springtime sun, green, and Rachel's skin is so fine, his bristles can score her red the way a new ball marks a bat, English alum on English unbleached willow, finest quality, special selection, Rachel-grade. Zach, my man, you have cricket on the brain! Thomas has asked him to play on Sunday. Bring Rachel, he said. Thomas 'All Souls' Aubry, gentleman, corinthian at heart, and half French yet more English than a true-born.

He looked at me with a smile that I still remember and ran a finger along his impeccably trimmed mustache. “Cricket is about a lot more than playing by the rules, Mistry. It’s a gentleman’s game. Don’t you ever forget that.

He suddenly exploded in a flurry of arms and legs, out of which flew a ball.

Heroes in fact die with one's youth. They are pinned like butterflies to the setting board of early memories—the time when skies were always blue, the sun shone and the air was filled with the sounds and scents of grass being cut. I find myself still as desperate to read the Sussex score in the stop-press as ever I was; but I no longer worship heroes, beings for whom the ordinary scales of human values are inadequate. One learns that as one grows up, so do the gods grow down. It is in many ways a pity: for one had thought that heroes had no problems of their own. Now one knows different!