Whilst the climate in Britain may ensure that we aren’t battered by tornadoes, hurricanes or anything else similarly horrific, summer is rather brief and therefore opportunities to play the summer game are somewhat limited. So on Sunday just past, I was delighted to play my first game of cricket for 7 months. And it was a triumph, of sorts.
I have actually only being playing cricket for a year, despite having been an avid enthusiast since I was a nipper. Cricket wasn’t really played at my school, I can only remember playing it a few times in P.E. lessons. Whereas the football-morons of course, got to play all year round. Anyhow, last year, having reached the grand old age of 25, and not undertaken any sort of physical exercise in the previous 9 years, since my last P.E. lesson, in fact, I decided that rather than sitting in the pub moaning about this that and the other about cricket and cricketers, I would get out there and prove, should anyone ask, that in fact, no, I couldn’t do any better.
So last May I dropped an email to the captain of a local team asking for a game or two. I was, I must confess, what you might call 'economical' with the truth. I told him that I hadn’t played since school, which was true, but didn’t let on that I hadn’t ever actually played a proper game either.
So first up, I play against some team that have amongst their ranks a youth player from Worcestershire CCC, I am slightly incensed by this. Cricket is a delicate game, insomuch as when one side is markedly better than another, it can make for an immensely tedious afternoon fetching balls from distant fields. You can probably see what’s coming, can’t you? In 45 overs we are put to the sword to the tune of 400+ runs. The young tyke, who looks like he still has stabilisers on his bicycle, scores an almost faultless 150. I field reasonably well but don’t bowl. Amazingly, I’m sent into to bat at 10, rather than 11 as I would have expected. More amazingly I get off the mark first ball, squeezing the ball down to fine-leg, but I’m not done there, a further single follows shortly afterwards, before the chap at the other end is out LBW. Now, I appreciate that you are probably thinking 2 not out is not a very impressive score, and you’d be right, (unless you’re Chris Martin, in which case you’d be buying the beers after the game and possibly making a speech or two), but up until this moment, I had never faced any ‘proper’ bowling, never played on a real wicket or worn batting gloves or pads. We were eventually skittled out for about 170, everyone looked at little shell-shocked, but not me, I was happy as happy could be.
By the end of the season I’d played 8 games, with a top score of 9 not out, at an average of 4.3. This wasn’t too bad for a first attempt, I thought, mainly because, I had invariably batted at 10 or 11 so never got much of a chance, hence a number of not outs. As for bowling, I once had a terrible anxiety dream about bowling on the first day of a test match, sending down wide after wide after wide, with 100,000 Australians baying for my blood. I’ve called it the ‘Steve Harmison dream’. With that in mind, I declined to bowl. This season however, I’ve taken the plunge and actually bowled in a match, very badly it must be said, but I do have a bowling average, having taken 2 wickets for 30 runs. I did however, only bowl 3 overs and conceded about 10 wides, I swear I bowled 9 balls in one over and was starting to wish that the ground would swallow me up, but then, against the run of play, (probably more against the run of play than any other event in history to be honest) I took a wicket! A simple catch to square leg, followed a few balls and a fistful of wides later, by a second wicket in the same place. “That’ll teach you for trying to slap me over mid-wicket you bastard” I wanted to say, sadly, the standard of my bowling is so very, very low, that any attempt at sledging the opposition would be utterly farcical, so I gracefully and gratefully received the congratulations, disbelief and sarcasm of my team mates instead.
My skipper for the day, a wonderfully avuncular character in his 50's, was most encouraging, “every week now you have to bowl” he said, “keep practising and you’ll be fine” and so on. I may be quite useless at bowling, but I can be very determined when I want to be. I’ll keep you updated on my progress.
The opposition scored 220 in their 40 overs, which we chased down quite easily in the end, despite being 100-5 at one point. The skipper and a chap who normally plays in the Birmingham Premier League, which is completely different from renting some county youth player, no it is, I promise you, flayed the bowling to all parts. The highlight of the day came right at the end. The ringer from the Premier League was on 98 with the scores tied. The captain at the other end blocked out an entire over, including running 2 meters outside leg stump to defend a ball that was so wide as to have nearly been a legitimate delivery on the adjacent wicket, just to give the young man a chance of his ton, which of course he got, thrashing a four down to cow-corner off the 2nd ball of the next over. My batting skills weren’t required, apart from to knock my mate Dave’s beer over, whilst he provided me with some throw-downs, which he wasn’t best pleased about, but there is always next week to test my prowess with the willow.
In the rest of the cricket world, the rain prevented a result in the first test at Lord’s and Warwickshire, I’m almost in tears writing this, lost to Ireland, that is IRELAND!!!!! In the FP Trophy, a competition in which Ireland haven’t won a game since it was the C&G Trophy, about 3 years ago. The Bears have since beaten Notts, but their chances of progressing in the FP Trophy are somewhere near zero, just next to bugger all.
The IPL is still going, a lack of Sentanta Sports prevents me from following too closely, but as far as I can tell, the Mumbai Muthafuckers, or whatever they are called are the team to beat – whoopie...
The visionary lies to himself, the liar only to others.
I have actually only being playing cricket for a year, despite having been an avid enthusiast since I was a nipper. Cricket wasn’t really played at my school, I can only remember playing it a few times in P.E. lessons. Whereas the football-morons of course, got to play all year round. Anyhow, last year, having reached the grand old age of 25, and not undertaken any sort of physical exercise in the previous 9 years, since my last P.E. lesson, in fact, I decided that rather than sitting in the pub moaning about this that and the other about cricket and cricketers, I would get out there and prove, should anyone ask, that in fact, no, I couldn’t do any better.
So last May I dropped an email to the captain of a local team asking for a game or two. I was, I must confess, what you might call 'economical' with the truth. I told him that I hadn’t played since school, which was true, but didn’t let on that I hadn’t ever actually played a proper game either.
So first up, I play against some team that have amongst their ranks a youth player from Worcestershire CCC, I am slightly incensed by this. Cricket is a delicate game, insomuch as when one side is markedly better than another, it can make for an immensely tedious afternoon fetching balls from distant fields. You can probably see what’s coming, can’t you? In 45 overs we are put to the sword to the tune of 400+ runs. The young tyke, who looks like he still has stabilisers on his bicycle, scores an almost faultless 150. I field reasonably well but don’t bowl. Amazingly, I’m sent into to bat at 10, rather than 11 as I would have expected. More amazingly I get off the mark first ball, squeezing the ball down to fine-leg, but I’m not done there, a further single follows shortly afterwards, before the chap at the other end is out LBW. Now, I appreciate that you are probably thinking 2 not out is not a very impressive score, and you’d be right, (unless you’re Chris Martin, in which case you’d be buying the beers after the game and possibly making a speech or two), but up until this moment, I had never faced any ‘proper’ bowling, never played on a real wicket or worn batting gloves or pads. We were eventually skittled out for about 170, everyone looked at little shell-shocked, but not me, I was happy as happy could be.
By the end of the season I’d played 8 games, with a top score of 9 not out, at an average of 4.3. This wasn’t too bad for a first attempt, I thought, mainly because, I had invariably batted at 10 or 11 so never got much of a chance, hence a number of not outs. As for bowling, I once had a terrible anxiety dream about bowling on the first day of a test match, sending down wide after wide after wide, with 100,000 Australians baying for my blood. I’ve called it the ‘Steve Harmison dream’. With that in mind, I declined to bowl. This season however, I’ve taken the plunge and actually bowled in a match, very badly it must be said, but I do have a bowling average, having taken 2 wickets for 30 runs. I did however, only bowl 3 overs and conceded about 10 wides, I swear I bowled 9 balls in one over and was starting to wish that the ground would swallow me up, but then, against the run of play, (probably more against the run of play than any other event in history to be honest) I took a wicket! A simple catch to square leg, followed a few balls and a fistful of wides later, by a second wicket in the same place. “That’ll teach you for trying to slap me over mid-wicket you bastard” I wanted to say, sadly, the standard of my bowling is so very, very low, that any attempt at sledging the opposition would be utterly farcical, so I gracefully and gratefully received the congratulations, disbelief and sarcasm of my team mates instead.
My skipper for the day, a wonderfully avuncular character in his 50's, was most encouraging, “every week now you have to bowl” he said, “keep practising and you’ll be fine” and so on. I may be quite useless at bowling, but I can be very determined when I want to be. I’ll keep you updated on my progress.
The opposition scored 220 in their 40 overs, which we chased down quite easily in the end, despite being 100-5 at one point. The skipper and a chap who normally plays in the Birmingham Premier League, which is completely different from renting some county youth player, no it is, I promise you, flayed the bowling to all parts. The highlight of the day came right at the end. The ringer from the Premier League was on 98 with the scores tied. The captain at the other end blocked out an entire over, including running 2 meters outside leg stump to defend a ball that was so wide as to have nearly been a legitimate delivery on the adjacent wicket, just to give the young man a chance of his ton, which of course he got, thrashing a four down to cow-corner off the 2nd ball of the next over. My batting skills weren’t required, apart from to knock my mate Dave’s beer over, whilst he provided me with some throw-downs, which he wasn’t best pleased about, but there is always next week to test my prowess with the willow.
In the rest of the cricket world, the rain prevented a result in the first test at Lord’s and Warwickshire, I’m almost in tears writing this, lost to Ireland, that is IRELAND!!!!! In the FP Trophy, a competition in which Ireland haven’t won a game since it was the C&G Trophy, about 3 years ago. The Bears have since beaten Notts, but their chances of progressing in the FP Trophy are somewhere near zero, just next to bugger all.
The IPL is still going, a lack of Sentanta Sports prevents me from following too closely, but as far as I can tell, the Mumbai Muthafuckers, or whatever they are called are the team to beat – whoopie...
The visionary lies to himself, the liar only to others.
1 comment:
Good on you William. My playing days are long behind me. Maybe you should take your whites to Edgbaston next week, looks like they need you.
Safe.
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