One of my resolutions for this blogging-year was to write about cricket, and I was afforded a nice opportunity today when, strolling across Parker’s Piece, I saw a match in session. “Aha!” I thought, “I’ll go over and have a look”.
I was, I must admit, a cricket sceptic (I’d be willing to consider a cricket a sport if birdwatching would also qualify). But it actually looked fairly energetic...a number of middle-aged men bouncing about on their toes. They weren’t exactly doing anything but, well, you’ve got to start somewhere. One of them even had grass stains on his (white!) uniform, though judging by his girth (an asset for a cricketer, I’ve been told) he’d probably tripped on his way back to the buffet line.
Gamely prepared to put my prejudices aside, I stopped to watch. I stayed engaged for an impressive thirty seconds before mine wandering eyes espied a sign that read “Caution, Wet Paint”, and I realised that there were much more interesting things to be done in these parts.
[For (somewhat) more informed cricketing commentary, go here. Just take your coffee or a pillow.]