Young Charlie Chilcott

Today marked a bit of a milestone in our house. Normally, when I play the latest Talking Newspaper recording, Mirinda will announce, after a bit, that she’s had enough. I change it from general broadcast, lock myself away somewhere and just listen alone.

Today, however, she actually listened to the entire recording. Even the sport. Even the cricket report in the sport section. Mind you, I bribed her by saying she had to wait for my Nicktor mention.

Speaking of cricket, I had another lovely couple of hours at Frensham again today following our brunch at the Holly Bush. This week it wasn’t interrupted by rain although we did have a fair old sprinkling at one point which had a family of spectators running for their umbrellas.

The game was between Frensham 3rd XI and Farncombe 3rd XI. Frensham chose to field and, at first, it seemed the decision was wrong with the Farncombe batsmen hitting boundaries all over the place. But, having checked the score later, the Frensham team came out winners.

There was a big moment early on when young Charlie Chilcott (he looked about 12) came on to bowl. He conceded a few runs but he showed a lot of promise. He looked to me like quite an intelligent bowler, mixing up his pace enough to baffle the batsman.

Charlie only had three overs to impress and he didn’t take a wicket but I reckon his performance will earn him another start in the future.

The only reason I know about him is because the skipper yelled to the the scorer that the new bowler was ‘Young Charlie Chilcott!” He was also given a lot of encouragement by his captain both in bowling and fielding.

There was one moment of high drama.

At one point, one of the batsman held up his hand to stop play. He spoke to the wicket keeper as he pointed up the hill. Standing, watching was an older chap, his bike resting against his legs. The batsman was pointing at this chap.

Suddenly everyone on the field turned towards him, as did all the spectators (about 20 people). A voice came from the outfield:

Can you take off your hi-viz jacket please sir? Or move? It’s distracting the batsman.

I don’t think the cyclist was used to being the centre of attention. He quickly removed the jacket and then pedalled his bike away. The game continued.

All up it made for a most enjoyable couple of hours following an equally enjoyable brunch in the Street Shack.

Sally (the Holly Bush owner) explained that her husband had built it all during lockdown. It’s a marvellous use of the back section of the beer garden. We were very comfortable.

On a glorious summer’s morning, it was a perfect way to indulge in eggs, sausages and mushroom, washed down with a latte.

Back at home, as I said, we listened to the FATN recording. And I can’t fault Mirinda’s decision to listen all the way through. It really went very well. While my reader didn’t get what anyone would call ‘chatty’ he did ad lib a few times. I think we were both entertaining and newsy in equal measure.

After it finished, I said that I hoped someone else (other than us) actually listened to it.

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