I was sitting at the Hollowdean Recreation Ground, waiting for the cricket to start. Mirinda had taken the girls for a very long walk and I was about to start reading when I was halted by a voice beside me. “I haven’t seen this view since 1976,” The voice said.
It was a tall chap who was standing at the end of the bench I was sitting on. He was staring out over the cricket ground. I suggested that it probably hadn’t changed much. He laughed lightly and agreed.
Mind you, he added, the Holly Bush had changed a lot. He’d popped over for a look see and was amazed at the transformation. I told him it had only changed in the last six years and before that it was an awful relic of the 1960’s. He nodded, adding that that’s how he remembered it.
We’d just had brunch in the pub and, as usual, it was delicious. I asked if he was going for a pint. He shook his head. He was meeting a bunch of guys he went to school with.
It turns out that he was a boarder at Frensham Heights School, leaving 44 years ago. He was back in Frensham for a reunion of fellow classmates. They were going for a walk to reminisce and talk about what had happened over the last four decades of their lives.
He was unsure if he’d recognise them. I said I’d have no hope of recognising anyone I went to school with 4o odd years ago. Not that I have any desire to reconnect with my past, I added.
I asked him where he’d been for the past 44 years, assuming he was going to say mining diamonds in South Africa or herding camels in Australia or something similarly exotic and adventurous.
“South London,” was his somewhat more prosaic answer. He’d just been too busy with life and work to make the trip back.
Then his old school chums turned up and he left me to enjoy the cricket. I wished him well as he strode over to a group of other 60+ year olds.
And the cricket was very enjoyable.
It was Frensham 1st XI v Grayshott 1st XI in an I’Anson Cup match. Reduced to 40 overs (I don’t know why and neither did the Grayshott batsman sitting next to me) it started fast and furious with mostly boundaries coming off the Grayshott bats.
Then three quick wickets tumbled in very short time. One of them was an excellent reflex catch in slips from a ball that popped up and flew off the batsman’s handle.
It then settled back down and I thought Grayshott were playing very well and looked to be on top of the match by the time Mirinda returned (almost three hours later). When I looked at the final score later, I couldn’t have been more wrong.
Frensham easily won by 8 wickets. They managed to dismiss Grayshott for 170 in 39.5 overs which they easily achieved in 23.1 overs for the loss of only 2 wickets.
On the drive home, Mirinda excitedly told me about her walk while I excitedly told her about the cricket. Mirinda is never much moved by my tales of cricket. She feels that cricket is possibly the most boring sport in the universe. She has told me this many, many times so I know I can only discuss it for about three minutes before she switches off.
While Mirinda considers cricket boring, it’s not half as bad as she feels about snooker. And I watched both today. She really doesn’t get when I say how thrilling a frame is or how edge of the seat exciting an over has been. I’m constantly baffled by her reactions to possibly my two favourite sports.
Anyway, today was the first two sessions of the final of the Crucible World Campionship. The final was between Ronnie O’Sullivan and a young chap called Kyren Wilson.
I’m sure he’s a nice fellow but he looks remarkably miserable most of the time. Not that that matters when you’re playing snooker.
Ronnie was well out of sorts in the final session but even so, he managed to lead Kyren 10-7 at the end of the night’s play. I kept expecting Ronnie to throw in the towel. He was not playing well. Unfortunately, for Kyren, nether was he.
It was a splendid end to a day of not at all boring sport, regardless of what my wife says.
