I love cricket. I mean I really love it. It’s a big part of my happiness. It centres me, washes away the bullshit. I need it. In the winter I miss it. In the spring I look forward to it. It defines my summer.
But every now and then, it tests my faith in it.
This was a testing game.
It takes a lot for me to not enjoy a game of cricket. Mostly, there’s something joyful. Even last week, when we were soundly thrashed by a vastly superior side, we fielded fiercely, Court and Ryan took stunning catches, Rob and Howard bowled brilliantly. Outclassed, we gave a decent account of ourselves.
This week was awful.
Because of football, we started at 11. Many games were off. It rained heavily all Friday, and Joel had covered the wicket. Without covers, this game was not happening. When they rolled off, the strip looked green. Clouds and drizzle scudded by. A bowling day, surely? Surely.
Anyone who’s ever played at Damerham knows it is characteristically low and slow, even in great weather. What are the chances of it being a road having been covered for a day and a half of heavy rain? I mean, almost none, right? Well it gave the best impression of a road Damerham could possibly manage. Hard, flat, lifeless. (No shade on Joel – quite the opposite; what a fantastic effort from him. Extraordinary wicket, under any circumstances.)
It was crazy windy. So windy that you couldn’t hear anyone more than 10 yards downwind. Bowling into wind like that is nasty. Setting a field when you can’t hear anyone is shouting at yourself.
I can’t quite put my finger on what made it such a hateful day. The Wind? The early start? The drizzle? The betrayal of the Damerham Dog? The team with eight youngsters in which 90% (no, 86%, let’s be accurate) of the runs came from the three adults? The Hampshire over 60s captain with the unbeaten ton? The fact that I personally bowled like I had someone else’s arm sewn on? By someone who can’t sew?
They’ve all happened before. Any of them alone I’d just shrug off.
Somehow they combined to contrive the least enjoyable Saturday for many a summer. Hated it. Next week will be better. Can’t fail to be.
Written by Si
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