Random Jottings

Cricket Lovely Cricket

All Random Readers know that I adore cricket.  It was not always so. I used to find it dreary and boring and tedious, but that was before I saw the light and now I shriek in horror if anybody uses those words to describe this wonderful game. 

I used to work at Camden Libraries many moons ago and we had a chap there who was a cricket fanatic. He was also bone idle and used to drive me mad particularly when the Test Matches were on as he would sit in his office pretending to be busy when, in reality, he was listening to Test Match Special. As we worked for local government hardly anybody got sacked for not doing their job properly, if you wanted to get rid of somebody they were usually promoted elsewhere. I am pretty sure nothing has changed.  We just had to grin and bear it and then one day I was working with him and found that I was tuning in subliminally to his radio and I began to ask him what was so special about the game.  Well, his eyes lit up and his bored demeanour changed immediately as he started to explain to me why he loved it so.

That was the beginning really and a few months later I was staying with friends in Nottingham and was taken to a one day match by my host who was a member of Nottingham CC.  Enormous fun and then later on in the summer he and I were pinned indoors by appalling hay fever and a Test Match was on and Bill explained in minute detail the field settings, the different kind of bowling, the tactics etc and over a period of three days I fell in love with cricket and my love has deepened over the years.

Cricket at the Crossroads by Guy Fraser-Sampson covers ten years in the game when three major crises occurred.  The Close Affair in 1967 when Brian Close was relieved of hte England captaincy in controversial circumstances, the D'Olivera affair saw his place in a touring team to South Africa cause a major incident and the birth of the World Series when Kerry Packer arrived and changed the face of cricket for ever.

I followed all these incidents in the papers though this was prior to my conversion and so I must have been more interested than I realised at the time. What I had not realised until reading htis book was just how much the Gentlemen and Amateur status of players entrenched even in the 1960s, I somehow  had the feeling that this had disappeared years before.   Somebody like Brian Close, a blunt Yorkshireman, who became England captain was regarded as 'not one of us', he was from the North, he was working class.  

"it is difficult for a modern reader to appreciate just how tangible and significant was the distinction between the amateur and professional cricketer, or as it was often expressed, gentleman and players. On many county grounds the professionals were not allowed to share the same dressing room (or even pavilion) with the amateurs.  They were all expected to call the amateurs 'sir' and refer to them as 'mister'...........the difference had been even more pronounced on tour when the amateurs had travelled in separate cars and stayed in swanky hotels, dressing for dinner, while the professionals had to put up in boarding houses"

Almost impossible to believe now but that was the way it was.

I found this book totally fascinating.   My vague knowledge of the three incidents mentioned above has now been expanded by the meticulous narrative and outlines filled in so now I understand what happened.  The D'Olivera affair was particularly distressing and, in the end, led to South Africa being banned from participating in International Cricket for years.

One thing that struck me when reading this excellent book was the dithering and faffing about of the selectors.  Why is it that this always seems to be a feature of those in charge of selecting the team? Some of them come across as weak, spineless and self-interested and so lacking in authority and interest in the game that you wonder how they got the job.  The answer is, of course, that most of them were 'Gentlemen'.

This is not a dry, dusty read. We are given the social and political landscape prevailing at the time and then we are given detailed breakdowns of England's tours in the West Indies, the Ashes, Pakistan and India.  Many of the names in these teams are familiar to me though I never saw them play at that time as my interest in cricket was very much in its infancy, but it is fascinating to read with hindsight and my current knowledge of the game and even non-cricket lovers or those not totally involved in the game, would enjoy Cricket at the Crossroads. 

While pondering on the Gentleman and Player attitude I could not help but think of the current Test Match Special team which I listened to day in day out this summer.  On one side we have Henry Blofeld ('Blowers') with an upper class, rich fruity tone of voice and on the other we have Phil Tufnell, Essex boy, both of whom are great commentators and great fun.  Lovely to hear Blowers greet Phil each day with 'Tuffers dear old thing, how are you?' and to hear Phil reply 'I'm ok Blowers old mate, how are you?'  Listening to this double act was sheer delight and the real affection between the two came across to the listener.

Seems the old cricketing barriers are now all gone and about time too.

Well, it's all over now

Another fortnight of tennis played on the green lawns of Wimbledon, SW19 is now over and I am not sure that it can be classified as a vintage year.  No great tennis, no huge peaks of wonderfulness this year, but there have been upsets along the way.   Here are my thoughts which I am sure you are all breathlessly awaiting...

First up - the ladies tournament.  I am sure I am going to outrage a lot of people here, but I am sorry I totally disagree with the equal prize money paid to the Ladies Champion.   The disparity between the male and female game has always been obvious but the Wimbledon Committee bowed to the hollering and shouting of Mesdames King, Casals, Navratilova et al back in the 70's and 80s and decided they deserved the same pay as the men. I disagreed then and I disagree now.  Most of the ladies tennis matches have been lacklustre and pedestrian and SHORT.  Oh yes we have had some goodies, not that many but some (Bartoli v Lisicki being an example) though these have been few and far between.   I am all for equal pay for an equal job but tennis is not a good example.

Watching the grunting Williams sisters is not exactly an aesthetic pleasure and their ungraciousness and consciousness that they are The Best and everyone else is lower than the dust beneath their chariot wheels, grates.   Serena put in a complaint that she and Venus were not on the main courts enough and that she found pushing her way through the crowds to get on Court 2 or 3 'uncomfortable'.  Well, hey welcome to the real world lady. Those horrid sweaty proles are the ones who buy the tickets and pay your prize money.  Not surprising that when her defeat was flashed up on the Centre Court during a break in a match the crowed clapped and cheered. Nice - no, understandable - yes.   I know she has a hard year, in fact we know all about it as it was raised and aired at every single interview and press conference and must have been seriously scary to be so ill, but time for Venus and Serena to learn that the world at Wimbledon does not revolve around them.

Heavens I was even wishing Sharapova  would win just to keep them out, shows how bad things have got.  

And the grunting and the screaming and the shrieking and no, I am not talking about the spectators, I am talking about the women players.  Sharapova makes no noise when she is practicing so we are left to draw our own conclusions as to why she does it when playing.  It was a pleasure to see a nice, QUIET girl come onto the court and wipe the floor with her and we have a new champion.   But that match was two sets of pretty mundane tennis which lasted just over an hour and a half and for that they get the same money as the men.  This year the men's final was not a classic but four sets of good tennis, nearly three hours so tell me why do the women get the same?   OK, better shut up now I suppose.

Delighted that Djokovic won the title, I am not a fan of Nadal as I find his time wasting tactics between points acutely irritating.  He regularly takes longer than the time allowed but is never penalised because of it and I think he should be. Other players are.  I know everyone says what a nice guy he is and sure they are right, but he has a really nasty mean look in his eye all the time which really puts me off and yes I know he is trying to win a match and I am being illogical but there you go.

Andy Murray - well what can one say?  He has the skill, he has the talent but until he stops behaving like Kevin the Teenager and getting all sulky and irritated when he makes a bad shot, he is not going to fulfill his potential.  Nadal, Federer, Djokovic - make a bad shot. Bugger. Forget it, don't do it again.  Murray ponders and pouts and slams his racket and winges and by the time he recovers a set has gone by and Nadal is thundering shots round his ankles and past his ears.   And I know I am going to sound like a fussy mother here, but really get a shave and a decent haircut and don't turn up looking like you have slept on the sofa all night and have not seen a brush or a comb for days.  If you turn up looking immaculate and taking pride in your appearance, it all helps.   This is Wimbledon for heaven's sake not the local Rec.

Andrew Castle said a shocking thing on the BBC the other day when asked about Murray. He said that 'perhaps he just wasn't good enough'.  Blimey, somebody actually coming out and saying so.  He is good but he is not as good as the top three and he is going to have problems in the next few years as there are other stars lurking who will soon eclipse him.   The next two years are his make or break years and I have my doubts.   I would love him to win the US Open in a few weeks, I would love him to prove me wrong. I really would.

Enough I think but cannot close with my moan (yes another one) about the BBC's obsession with slo-mo. After every single shot we see it again in slow motion and as this usually means somebody shouting YEEEEEEEEES, clenching their fist and opening their mouths as wide as the Mersey Tunnel, it is not a pretty sight.   Sweat flying off Nadal's hair in slow-mo also pretty revolting.  This sort of filming is getting very cliched now BBC.

Final word - in papers this morning news that loads of complaints have been made about the constant banging on about celebrities in the Royal Box.  Ok I can see that is irritating and I don't really want to see a parade of sportsmen or women who take part in a sport in which I have no interest, but appreciate that others do.  I don't really want to see Sir Cliff Richard again, though thank goodness he wasn' not singing this time, and I found the sight of the newly Knighted Sir Bruce Forsyth laughing and giggling with the Duchess of Cornwall quite fun. What I DO NOT WANT TO SEE is another bloody close up of Pippa  bloody Middleton who is in the Royal Box because she is the sister in law of the future King of England. She has done NOTHING of note or merit thought she looked rather fetching as she walked up the aisle behind her sister, but the BBC seemed obsessed with her and when Andy won one of his matches the camera zoomed in on her, not the Murray family, and out comes the comment 'Oh there's Pippa, bet she's pleased'

Pass the sick bag.....

Wimbledon - love it or hate it?

Been a busy week folks and had a long long long but simply wonderful day in London yesterday, not only with my darling Florence but also with lots of interesting people and had lots of fun.  When I tell you I was up at 6am and driving to London and then drove home at 10pm in the evening you will understand that today was a day for lying in a poleaxed heap on the sofa not moving, not doing anything at all except watching Wimbledon.

Of which I will give you my thoughts while I am at it - you know I am going to don't you?

Trying to work out who is the worst commentator of the lot the BBC hire each year. Well, first up I will admit that I find John McEnroe witty, brilliant and huge fun in this role, but also know that there are millions of you out there who disagree.  He used to be such a little shit when he played, couldn't stand him and would never watch his matches as I found the way he was allowed to behave by the spineless umpires and referees totally inexplicable. There were several occasions when he should have been thrown off the court and if I had been a linesman and had him ranting and spitting in front of me I would have thumped him.  So the transition from little shit to elder statesman was a shock at first but now I find I like him and wonder why he did not show this side of his character when he was playing. He admits that he behaved atrociously and should have been defaulted and dealt with more severely - bit late in the day John baby, but I have now forgiven him.

Boris Becker - poor at first but has now warmed to the role and strikes me as being a nice man.  Several of his fellow commentators have said he is a 'good guy' and he is another one who is prepared to admit his mistakes.

Tim Henman - well, what can one say about Tim? Nice Tim, sweet Tim, well dressed and well mannered Tim?  Tim who has the most BORING DRONING VOICE IN THE WORLD and is charisma free.

Andrew Castle - morphed from being the British No.1 - gosh we are all overawed - to being a thoroughly good TV presenter and Wimbledon chap.  Took part in Strictly Come Dancing a few years ago and admits he was terrified throughout.   Easy listening voice, does not intrude when he should not and I really like him (Letter in the paper the other day from a reader who says he drives her mad...)

John Lloyd - also ex British No. 1 (do they all end up at Wimbledon? If so Hello Andy Murray in 2020). Knows what he is talking about and comments well but he does have the most peculiar cockney/American accent with Australian overtones. Prof Higgins would have a field day with him. 

Pat Cash - ex Wimbledon Champion. You know he is the one who wears black and white headbands and climbed up into the box to hug his parents when he won. Aaah sweet. Now done by nearly everyone else including Nadal who climbed over to shake hands with the Prince of the Asturias in the Royal Box when he won.   PC is the owner of a whiny whingey voice and he does not commentate - he witters. He starts a sentence, not sure how to end it and it dies away in silences and odd words here and there and usually while the tennis is being played. Last year I remember an occasion when he moaned about he BBC canteen and said his chocolate brownie was rubbish, and all the time the tennis was playing.  Cannot understand why the BBC hire him.

And now the women.  Tracy Austin is another with a thin whiny voice but somehow I don't find her irritating though I know others do.   I have just watched an excellent ladies single match this evening and one of the commentators was Lindsey Davenport, the Wimbledon Champion on 1999. Always strikes me as being a very nice lady but that means diddly squat when you are there droning on about forehands weaknesses and being focused and boy, does she drone.  Virginia Wade - don't let's go there. Just what IS her accent - does anybody know

Sue Barker - what can one say about the redoubtable lady who keeps it all together, interviews with grace, authority and style and never seems to be lost for a word or flustered. She deserves a medal for the number of times she can ask Will Andy Murray Win Wimbledon without rolling her eyes and thinking I am seriously pissed off with having to ask this YET AGAIN, but she has to do it. One of the reasons I want Andy to win Wimbledon, or any Grand Slam for that matter, is to relieve Sue's suffering. I also wish somebody would tell her what clothes to wear, some of her outfits defy description. Perhaps they do....

I won't start on the gruntings of Venus or Serena Williams, the yells of the Shrieking Shack aka Maria Sharapova or Djokovic bouncing his tennis ball 39+ times between each point or the alarming number of men players who play with baseball caps on backwards, or the seriously weird fashion sense exhibited by some of the lady players, yep Venus and Serena you again, or the.........no I will stop because I don't want you getting the wrong idea that I dislike Wimbledon.

I LOVE IT. I first went in 1964 and saw the Ladies Final, yes I slept out all night (never again), between Margaret Smith and Maria Bueno and used to regularly beat the trail down to the All England Lawn Club  for about 15 years and then I stopped going.  Not quite sure why but I have a feeling that the arrival of Mac the Mouth might have had something to do with it.  Now I am at home with a terrific TV with digital and the red button so I can watch for hours and hours and I do I do.  I have seen some stunning matches over the 40+ years I have been watching and think it is the greatest tournament in the world.

And that is why I grumble and moan and bitch about it. It's what us Brits do.

PS and we mustn't forget the silly hat worn by the spectators.

Anyone for Tennis?

It is the start of the English grass court season and, true to form, after one of the driest three months we have had for ages, the rain is now pouring down and it is cold and grey. 

I have not been feeling too well this week so was glad to loll around on the sofa and watch the Aegon Championships at the Queen's Club.  Everyone and everything is decked out in blue to go with the company's brand which is a vast improvement on the days when it was the Stella Artois championships and everything was in a shrieking pillar box red.  A gift of a week as not only did Andy Murray make the final (he totally demolished Andy Roddick in the semis in under one hour - I have never seen him play so well), but we also had a Plucky Brit, ranked in the nether regions on the computer, also come through to the semi-finals knocking out two players in the top 20 and one in the top 50 in order to get there. Of course when this happens the tabloids latch onto it like a leech thirsting for blood and the whole thing was made even better as the player, Jamie Ward, is the son of a London taxi driver.  Oh Gor blimey Guv this proves that tennis is not a game for the upper class drones in England but is for the proles as well.  Throw in the fact that he has a cage fighter as a trainer/motivator and, well I need not go on - you get the picture.   Of course, nobody thinks for one moment that tennis is for the proles, you just had to take a gander at the audience at Queen's Club with their Pimms and the braying Hooray Henry types watching the tennis in between texting and taking calls. Pippa Middleton was there fresh from her hard week of watching the French Open in the President's Box, who is now a true Sleb and it goes without saying that the Beeb zoomed in on her at every opportunity. No doubt she will appear in the Royal Box at Wimbledon in due course....

(You probably think I am being slightly satirical calling him a Plucky Brit but this is what appeared in at least one newspaper and not a tabloid either.  I simply cannot imagine Nadal or Federer being called Plucky can you?  It is a Brit thing)

Still, he really did well and I was most impressed with his playing and his general on court demeanour and he seems remarkably unfazed by it all.  Considering he has spent the last few years on the lowly Challenger Circuit earning peanuts it was not surprising that his eyes lit up when he discovered that he was guaranteed a cheque for some £22k for this week's work.  Of course, Sue Barker, John Lloyd et al were building him up big time and saying how he could go on from this and do well.  We have all been there before.  Every summer we have a Plucky Brit knocking out a top seeded player and then after all the hoo-hah collapsing the next day against somebody ranked 999 in Outer Mongolia. Let's be honest here, Tim Henman made a career out of it.  I am probably being a bit unkind but the way these flashes of brilliance are seized upon by the sports writers in the summer is so predictable. They should know better by now that if you see the light at the end of the British tennis tunnel it is probably an oncoming train....

With all the rain delays there were lots of fill ins and the best one of all was an edited showing of the 2008 Wimbledon Final when Nadal beat Federer in five sets in one of the best tennis matches of all time.   Of course, being the BBC they couldn't just leave it alone. Oh no.  We had Rog and Raf reading out bits of Kipling's Poem 'If' which is above the door of the entrance to the Centre Court. Hugely embarrassing, cringe, cringe.  And then the slow mo....this was just so uber cool in the sixties when it was first used but now is just old hat and yet it is welded to the hearts of sport producers.  Yes, watching the balletic grace with which Rog plays in slow motion is beautiful but after he has pirouetted his way around the court dozens of times it gets a tad boring.   And somebody really ought to mention to the Beeb that a slow mo of Rafa's sweat drenched hair swinging round his head with the perspiration flying of it and his mouth also wide open is, quite frankly, likely to put you off your dinner.

Best fill in was a feature all about Boris Becker and how winning Wimbers at age 17 changed his life and how he found it really difficult to handle and then all the appalling racial abuse he and his black wife Barbara suffered. I remember reading this at the time and they had to leave Germany and live elsewhere. He was also very honest and open about The Encounter in the Broom Cupboard at Nobo Club which led to a daughter being born some nine months later who he could not deny was his as she is his spitting image.  Boris was very frank and humorous about his many mistakes and came across as a really nice guy.

Anyway, no matter how many times I know I will have to turn the sound off to avoid Pat Cash's witterings and mutterings and avoid a clearly uncomfortable MacEnroe trying to be positive when asked for the umpteenth time Do you think Andy Murray can win Wimbledon, I am looking forward to a fortnight of glorious tennis.  I love it all and have done since I first stood on the Centre Court back in 1964 and watched Maria Bueno play Margaret Court. Yep, that dates me.  I also saw John Newcombe, Roy Emerson, Fred Stolle, Billie Jean King, Martina Navratilova, Chris Evert, Nastase, Connors...oh the roll call is a long one and I tell you that though I now watch it in the comfort of my home on my super duper TV, there is nothing so wonderful as being on the Centre Court in the evening at the end of a long hot summer's day (yes we did have them) and watch a mixed or a men's doubles being played out. Though the doubles was taken seriously and all the big names played them, unlike today, it was usually played in a more relaxed and friendly manner and the players would sometimes goof around and the crowd loved it.  One marvellous moment I always remember, Newcombe and Roche were playing against Tom Okker (from Holland and known rather predictably as the Flying Dutchman) and his partner (whose name escapes me), when a ball came back to them.  N & R both shriekd MINE rushed to hit it, crashed into each other and fell over flat on their backs, somehow managing to get the ball back over the net, whence Tom and his partner also shriekd MINE rushed towards it and also crashed into each other.  I think it is the only time I have seen four tennis players flat on their back on the Centre Court.

Ah, happy days...........

Cricket lovely cricket

Read a quote recently, forgotten where, that people who love reading love cricket and vice versa. Well in my case this is correct.  I LOVE reading and I LOVE cricket. If you can understand the fielding positions and appreciate the difference between fine leg, silly mid on, third man and long leg, then you will have no trouble reading War and Peace.  I know this is true - my conversion to cricket and the reading of this might tome happened at the same time.

I have two daughters who both read and both love cricket so that is a joy to me as well.  Kathryn has tickets for the Sydney test and I am trying hard to batten down the Daughter Envy but not succeeding very well at the moment.

Am bog eyed this morning and yesterday also as I sat up till the early morning listening to Radio 5 with the live commentary.  Kept dozing off and then would be woken up by a yell from the commentators when a wicket fell (which did not happen during England's batting) or a groan of despair when another Australian bowler was tonked over the park (all the time).  Thank goodness that ITV4 coughed up the money for the highglights - the BBC said it was 'too expensive'.  Yeh, right. Cut back on the use of taxis by the Director General for a year and they would have the dosh easily. 

Papers full of joy this morning and the Aussie team are really getting it in the neck back home.  Ponting, their captain, was dignified and generous in his after match interview and I felt so sorry for him.   However, having watched so many Brit sportsmen trying to make the most out of a bad situation, I don't wish to grind his nose in the dust...much

Not sure if the Aussies can come back - their team is pretty poor and they lack Shane Warne who could wipe us out single handed, or Glen McGrath et al, but I never underestimate their fighting spirit and sheer bloody mindedness and will not write them off yet.

But oh wonderful to wake up this morning and know that we have won the this Test.   I let out such a yell when the final wicket went down that I am sure my neighbours would have wondered what I was up to.

Who said cricket was boring?  WHO?

 

Cricket, lovely cricket

This post is going to be about cricket so if you wish to run screaming from the room, then do so....NOW

My daughter Kathryn told me the other day I was always moaning about the BBC and after a few mins ponder, I thought You know she is right and then I sat and wondered why.  Multiple reasons, but one of my main gripes was their letting the broadcasting of cricket lapse a few years ago.  It went over to Channel Five which filled me with horror (all those adverts!  utterly ghastly!), but then they proved me wrong by doing a superb job.  However, the dreaded Sky intervened when the next round of bargaining came up and they did a swoop and that was that - no terrestrial cricket coverage thus disenfranchising most of the country as, contrary to popular opinion, the vast majority of viewers do not have Sky.  I was one of them  (living in a block of flats and getting everyone to agree to the installation of dish has been impossible) and fuming and last summer when we won an incredibly exciting Ashes series I had to rely on my laptop all day and checking on the scores and highlights in the evening which Channel Five had managed to secure.

However, that was only for the series at home and England are now currently in South Africa and, once again, an exciting first couple of tests and no highlights, nothing.  I was moaning about this on one of the cricketing forums I post on (yes, I know, my daughter thinks this is tragic...why?) and have got to know quite a few of the regulars and it is all highly interesting, witty and fun.  I did my usual moan and up pops an answer 'Elaine, why don't you get Sky player and watch it via your computer?'

Well, I had no answer to that save I am not totally au fait with modern technology and can be a bit wary of same, but I duly got on line, did a bit of research and decided to go for it.  So I subscribed, downloaded the necessary software and within ten minutes was watching cricket live from South Africa.  Totally thrilled and as my laptop has a decent sized screen, it was not hard on the eye.  In fact, bearing in mind that the very first television we ever had when I was a teenager was an old 15" black and white set and I am watching in colour on a 17" screen, this is luxury.  My neighbour has a lead which he is going to demonstrate to me which means I can link and play it through my TV which will be even better.  I am delighted with this and have dropped a line to the forums to say a big Thank you.  The cost is £25 per month and I have chosen what I can receive and the bonus about Sky Player is that I am not locked into a contract, I can pay for as long as I choose and stop when I choose, so I may well just keep it until this Test series is done and then cancel.  Rejoin later on in the summer when we have the Test Matches here.

(Alistair Cook who, I will freely admit, is rather gorgeous.  I do watch the game purely for the cricket but when you have a bit of a dish as an opening batsman, it does help...)

Sorry I am droning on about this, but I am thrilled to bits and have been glued to the screen since 6 am this morning until close of play just about half an hour ago.  Wickets falling all over the place and when England began to lose players rapidly as well, I began to fear the worst.  However, the batsmen have stuck it out and have blocked, defended and nurdled their way to close of play and are only just over 50 runs behind the Saffers first innings total which looked almost impossible at the start of their innings.

I had forgotten just how fascinating and interesting cricket can be when you sit and watch it all day and see the ebb and flow of play, the field settings for the different bowlers, the tactics, the timing...I know non-cricket lovers cannot appreciate this and that is fine, I used to find cricket boring for years and years until I saw the light.  I do think the fact that I sit through long, slow moving Wagner operas and love them has something to do with my love of cricket as well....

The pictures are good, the commentators are good and, what surprised me, is that there were quite often periods of silence where nothing was said at all and we just sat and watched the game.  Usually most broadcasters seem to feel they have to fill in every second with inane remarks but not in this instance.  I was most impressed.

Best line of the day came from David Gower who, on seeing a huge box of doughnuts being carried by a spectator, said 'Oh look, Ian Botham's tea is being delivered'.....

More tomorrow - I Love Cricket.

Calloo Callay O Frabjous Day!!!

    

We have won the Ashes!! I have spent all day listening to the radio and checking the laptop except for a few intervals when I switched off all communication because we needed wickets.  Let me explain. This harks back to when my girls were young and we were watching the Test match and we needed to get our opponents out. 'Go and make a cup of tea Mum' I was told and every time I did there was a shriek from the front room and a wicket fell.  Worked with footie as well when we wanted our team to score.

   

So the other day I  went out for a walk and when I came back Stuart Broad had taken 4 wickets in 8 balls.  Then when I felt we needed some more, I went and fed the ducks and when I came back another two had fallen.  It was getting late and I did not fancy a walk so switched off - checked again ten minutes later to discover we had bowled the Aussies out for 160.

This afternoon, despite the fact the Aussies needed an unreachable score they were doing well and the crowd were getting tense.  So off I go on my perambulations and ten minutes later came back to find that there had been TWO run outs, one of which was the Aussie Captain Ricky Ponting.  I then sat glued to the radio all afternoon and we were wicketless  and it was getting a tad tense and so, yes you have guessed it, I had a shower, made some tea, sang a song or two, made a telephone call and then switched the radio back on and we were off again, another three wickets had fallen.

Now this is all very well but I now have the worry for the future - will I ever be able to watch a full Test match because if I do we will never win!

Heaven knows what my neighbours were thinking as I stayed with it for the last half hour and the yelling and shouting that was going on from moi was probably a bit over the top.  In the midst of this Kathryn called me from a pub in Leeds, where she had been all day watching SKY and as she spoke to me the last wicket fell and the roar down the phone was ear splitting.

And yes I know that to some of you watching cricket is about as exciting as watching paint dry but you will have to bear with me here.  It is the greatest game in the world and Test Match cricket is the best.

So there.....

Summer is here - the Ashes and the Proms

Yes, I am talking about the Clashes for the Ashes, so if you are not interested in cricket then go and do something useful and put the kettle on and make yourself a cup of tea because you will not want to read this post.

First test at Cardiff, England were so bad it was embarrassing and for once I was thankful that I did not have Sky as I knew that I would torture myself by watching every ball.  I just had the one hour highlights in the evening on Channel 5 and thank heavens for that channel for taking it.  I will not start here about my feelings on the Beeb allowing Test Cricket to be lost by them as it is pointless.  I have written as have others and the BBC, as usual, don't take any notice of what the viewers and licence payers want, and arrogantly ignore us.

OK I Must Not Rant.

The amazing thing about the first Test was that, despite being awful and despite all our so called leading batsmen being bowled out, we managed to hang on for a draw.  Now I know that some people say 'Hey you played for five days and didn't get a result, what sort of mad game is this?" and yes, I agree that is sounds barmy but this is where Test Matches are so wonderful.  Holding on and not getting out was, in this context, as interesting and nail biting as a superb win.  The Aussies were furious and made all sorts of comments about time wasting (which we did and so have they in the past) and also various snide remarks about England celebrating a draw as if it was a win.  Well, they  have pretty short memories as in 2005 when the position was reversed and Australia hung on to frustrate England, McGrath and Warne and the rest of the team were high fiving and yelling and shouting with joy - goes without saying that the Press have reminded them of this fact...  lots of gleeful comments on all the forums and noticeboards as well along the lines of 'whingeing Aussies'. 

What it boiled down to was that Australia did Not Win the Match, and we did not lose it,  and this was because having out bowled and outplayed us comprehensively, at the end of the day they were unable to bowl out Monty Panesar and James Anderson, two tail enders who doggedly defended for 11 overs.  And out of those two, they were bowling at someone who really is the Worst Batsman in the World.  Sorry Monty.  No wonder they were mad.

Anyway we are now in Test Two and as is the norm the England team started off brilliantly and then came the inevitable middle order collapse which follows as surely as night the day. Once more this morning we had James Anderson and another tail ender who managed to hang on and add another 40+ runs to bring us up to a respectable 425 and then the Aussies came out to bat.

  

No need for me to go into a match report - at close of play Australia were 158 for 8 (Stuart Broad above taking the most sensational catch and diving full length to get it) and need another 70 runs to avoid the follow on.  Oh what joy it would be if we could enforce this and bowl them out twice.  They would then be in the same position as us in Test One and I can tell you now, if the Aussies manage to force a draw in this Test, they will be rejoicing and leaping around and the boot will be on the other foot...

OK so a great day and I am now sitting here watching the First Night of the Proms with the knowledge that there is another six weeks ahead of music to listen to.  I may not attend any more, but each time I see or listen to any of these concerts, my mind goes back to my teenage days when I used to attend each concert and stand in the arena, just about ten feet await from the orchestra.  The Albert Hall is where I learned my classical music, where I heard my first Mahler symphony, stood through Act 3 of a concert performance of Tristan and Isolde, stood behind Stokowski when he conducted the first UK performance of Shostakovitch 5th symphony....I could go on and on and in fact I probably will in a later post.

So another lovely day today - cricket and music - what a glorious mixture.

Tuesday twitterings

 

Exhausting day today driving mother home, doing her shopping etc and then driving home myself. So a tad tired and no long post tonight. Also exhausting day rounded off by the fact that I have just watched Chelsea v Liverpool in the European Cup second leg meeting with Chelsea leading 4-2 on aggregate at the start of the match. Within half an hour that advantage had been wiped out by Liverpool and then in the second half it was raining goals with the match ending in a 4-4 draw and Chelsea going through.  Talk about nail biting.  One of the best matches I have seen for a long time.   When you watch a match like this you realise why football is called The Beautiful Game.

These two teams seem to bring the best out in each other and I remember an occasion years ago when Chelsea beat Liverpool in a match 3-2 when they had been trailing and I leapt into the air with a yell when the final goal went in, came down on a plate I had forgotten was on the floor, having contained my supper, smashed it in two, slashed my foot and ended up in Casualty having my foot stitched up.  

Sometimes supporting a football team can be very painful...

 

The Beautiful Game (and no I don't mean football)

I will state here an now that the up coming Olympics leaves me stone cold and I don't suppose I shall be tuning in much, though I daresay there will be times when it is unavoidable.  My sports interests are fairly limited to football, tennis and cricket and while Andy Murray seems to be a possibility now for a medal, such has been his progress since Wimbledon, cricket is not classified as an Olympic sport and probably just as well as the current state of the English test team would mean an early plane home.

I love cricket but did not come to the appreciation of this magnificent game until I was in my thirties.  Sometimes the good things are enjoyed more as one gets older.  And, yes, I used to belong to the school of 'You mean they play for five days and it is a draw and nobody wins?' school of thought and can fully understand this reaction.  I came to Test cricket via one day matches which initially aroused my interest and thought they were so much more exciting, but now I am a total devotee of Test matches in any shape or form.  For their five day length, they ebb and flow, the match can be finely balanced, or not, periods of quiet when digging in to hold onto your wicket is the best thing to do, then a batsman will hit out with wild abandon, wily spin bowling, fast bowling, bouncers hurtling past the batsman's ears, diving catches, dropped catches, it is all wonderful and unless one team is definitely wiping you out (sounds familiar anyone?), then the game is totally absorbing.  I have sometimes likened watching such a match to a performance of Wagner's Ring Cycle where you have huge exciting bits, and then quiet thoughtful dialogues and then off we go again.  And yes, when I have said this before non-cricket lovers have agreed with me and said that Wagner is boring and so is Cricket.  I held my tongue and did not reply.

Now we have not covered ourselves in glory this summer, the Saffers have just won the test series, their first since being readmitted into the Cricketing world again, and nobody can begrudge this to them, but despite the result I have really enjoyed watching these matches (well perhaps we had better forget about Headingley), and the test last week at Edgbaston was a nail biter.  In the end South Africa won fairly easily but this was not guaranteed until their captain Graham Smith came to the crease and just stayed there scoring a wonderful century.  This test match included all I have mentioned above, moments where nothing much happened, then a simply stunning few overs from Flintoff in the evening removing two batsmen, and then the redemption of an out of form Paul Collingwood with a magnificent century, Kevin Petersen getting to 94 and then playing a daft shot and getting out.  I could go on and on but will refrain from boring you any more.  This test is living proof that it is the best form of cricket and that other pretenders such as the 20/20 matches will never reach this standard of play and enjoyment.

In the wake of this defeat, Michael Vaughan has now gone and KP takes over for the last dead match in this series and this is going to be very interesting to watch indeed.  Lots of anti-KP in the papers and I shall be hoping that he can confound his critics and prove a good captain.  The Ashes await next year - oh dear...

As a final note, in 1997 when Our Beloved Leader (in case of misunderstanding please note I am being heavily sarcastic here) Tony Blair fought his way through cheering happy crowds of ordinary Labour voters (turned out they were party workers from Labour HQ)  after the Labour landslide, and John Major had packed his bags and left No.10, where did he go?  back home to sigh over lost power, sell his story to the tabloids?  Au contraire.  He turned up on the balcony at Lords, beaming all over his face and sat down to watch the cricket for the rest of the day.

Now that is what I call getting your priorities right.