The Man whose Head has Gone

Well, we found ourselves out at beautiful West Park again, a long way off in Long Eaton, to play Sawley and Long Eaton, as opposed to mere Long Eaton who I've played three times now, and been thrashed every time.

I have always enjoyed visiting West Park, which is public open space as I love to see being used - sports, leisure, relaxation, a proper olde worlde bandstand from which we could hear some ooom-pah music going on early on in the match, and families just enjoying the day out.

It is immaculately maintained, clean and tidy, and with pollinator friendly plants in the beds - the bees were too fast moving to photograph today but I got close ups of a footballer hoverfly! - I love playing here, despite the nature reserve being too faraway to visit today. Or the magnificent old mill with its huge chimney.

As to the match, we batted first and it was a bit of a struggle on a pacier pitch to what we are usedto at our home grounds...wickets fell regularly despite a vicious blast of aggression from the third of the three brothers who put a couple in the lavender beds, and indeed a talented young leg spinner did usfor a hat-trick - I survived the 4 from 4 ball.

Unfortunately I didn't survive my next one from the other end, and missed a huge shot and overbalanced and was stumped. Moron! My batting head has gone at the moment, I don't know whether to attack or defend and have picked up bad habits from going in with a couple of overs to go and needing to hit in the last couple of matches. I've had no net practice either.

This, however, will be rectified. I know I can score a few runs, I'm pissed off I have failed this weekend.

Thank god for our two youngest lads, who did really well and got us up to 87, which looked impossible at one point. Not enough, but our bowling has been very good this year, and we could still give them a scare.

Which we did! I didn't bowl early on, but the third brother turned out to be equally rapid with the ball as the bat, taking wickets - another edge behind wasn't given, another was dropped, and the skipper was pretty quick too. We had them 5 down, and then I tried to be quick too, and caused problems early on before messrs 6 and 7 decided to slog their way out of trouble, to victory.

I threw my cap on the ground to go with the bat throw I had done earlier, although this was to entertain the travelling spectators more than anything else - a grumpy batsman is always very amusing.

Inside though I'm screaming. I can't score any runs when I ought to be able to, and can't take wickets when bowling well, while others can. A friend said "Well, you do many other things well, cricket doesn't really matter" but I just want to feel that bit of respect, the joy of a winning performance - a 50, or 5 wickets.

And it ain't happening.

Si

All text and images copyright CreamCrackeredNature 10.06.18