Saturday, 25 May 2013

Not a game for the logical, the anal, or, actually, the sensible

Actually, it is a funny old game

I was run out. Marky Shep was supposed to look after me, he had the view of what was going on. He gave a bad call, and I was, albeit narrowly, run out. Deserving sympathy, there was none, just laughter.

Apparently, what’s fat, round and has trouble running fifty yards? Me.

What has a turning circle approximately equivalent to that of the Queen Elizabeth II, the raw pace of a slow snail[1], bats with a railway sleeper (which slows him down even more), excels only at eating crisp-enhanced sandwiches and talking non-stop rubbish all afternoon (with the occasional outrageously optimistic appeal thrown in)?

That’d be me too, it seems.

The afternoon started with Rich’s modelling what could be the most redundant sports kit ever: a pair of fielding pads, that made him look like he was wandering about with callipers on his legs. We gave them an over. They didn’t last that long, back in his bag before the start of play.

There was a lot of hilarity in between.

It ended with absolute proof that Gaelic flair either is a myth or hasn’t been transmitted to the genes of B O’S and AD, as the Welsh – Irish pair blocked out for the draw. You could cut the tedium with a blunt spoon. If you retained sufficient will to live, to live long enough to do so, and as long as the boredom had not resulted in numbness and immobility in the limbs to match that of the scoreboard.

The Sunday morning damage test revealed aching knees (responded well to walking the dogs for just over an hour – got things moving), bit of sun-dried skin, and grinning and rib muscles tired from over-use.


A great game at any level

Sky asked the England cricket team a series of questions, like:

What inspired you to play sport? Generally? “My Dad.”

Who are your inspirational ex-players?

Graeme Swann (who answered “a sense of humour” to the most essential attribute) kept a straight face and reeled off Ian Botham, Nasser Houssain, Mike Atherton, David Lloyd, Mike Holding, David Gower, all in the Sky commentary team.

Bumble Lloyd then summed it up: these are all just ordinary blokes who happen to be among the best in the world at what they do, and they enjoy doing it.





[1] An AD joke here: I took the shell off my racing snail to see if he went faster, but now he’s become a bit sluggish.

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