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The sun in the heavens was beaming,
The breeze bore an odour of hay,
My flannels were spotless and gleaming,
My heart was unclouded and gay;
The ladies, all gaily apparelled,
Sat round looking on at the match,
In the tree-tops the dicky-birds carolled,
All was peace -- till I bungled that catch.Basball is to America, quite the same as cricket is to India. And although that little piece above, was written with cricket in mind, I think it speaks about most games in general, well atleast the ones people are passionate about. All is peace, till you bungle a catch :)