That's the name of a Syd Barrett song, and it is significant relating to what I did today. A bit.
So, the now traditional season closer at Upton cricket club took place today, as usual the wind was blowing a hoolie at this quite elevated ground, and it was a bit colder and mizzlier than the weather forecast would have indicated.
We fielded first, and entrusted with the new ball despite the fact I'm pretty underbowled and rusty having spent most of my last few games playing in the 2nds and (once) the firsts was hoping to ease my way back into things.
Instead I encountered the suave batsman who has played for us a bit, and a mutant 7 foot tall left handed batsman with a very thick bat. Very different in appearance, they both had the same intention - to hit me over the hedges that ringed the ground. This they proceeded to so with some ease, despite me producing my usual edge beating swingers amidst the carnage. I did manage to get Mr Suave out eventually, but the real damage was done by the left hander, who was able to hit any ball I bowled over the boundary at will.
He wasn't doing it just to me by the way, I just got the worst of it. I always theorise that in the team my job is to get hammered by the power hitters so it doesn't happen to the juniors. It was our best junior bowler on the day who got him out in the end, after I'd been banished to field for being rubbish.
Still, it doesn't bother me, I love bowling in any circumstances. It also gave me a chance to watch the twirping house martins and swallows feeding themselves up above the match, with the traditional tower of haystacks overlooking one end.
After what seemed like a long 35 overs, Upton had made 227-7 or thereabouts.
Tea was an excellent spread - hello roast beef and actual half sandwiches - and I ate rather a lot of it safe in the knowledge that despite being in decent form I'd be batting at 11 as usual. However, it did turn out I'd be needed to umpire, and rather than die of boredom at square leg I decided to umpire an end properly.
This gave me the excuse to wave my Touretty arms around for a legitimate purpose, which was rather fun. As our reliable 3rd team opener belted an excellent 50 I was able to do some excellent arm waving signalling 4s, legbyes, a no ball, and some other thing. Dead ball, that was it.
We were never really in touch with the run rate, and I was disappointed not to bat as we scored 157-3. Our young opener batted right through for 20 odd not out, which is a major achevement and augurs well for next year.
Me I'm sad to put my whites away.
All text and images copyright CreamCrackeredNature 09.09.18