Cricket Stats Sonnet.

Cricket statistics, how I do love thee,
Thy averages in columns neat and fair;
The run rate’s pulse, the bowler’s mystery,
Each wagon wheel a map of patient care.

When scorecards bloom with fours and wickets bright,
And strike rates climb like swallows in the sun,
I read the game by figures clear as light,
Where every dot ball tells what might be won.

The partnership that swells from one to ten,
The economy that guards a slender lead,
Thy numbers make the pitch speak once again,
And lend the long day rhythm, craft, and speed.

So let the scoreboard sing its measured art:
In cricket’s sums, I find the game’s true heart.