Fatty Batter by Michael Simkins

Author:Michael Simkins
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781446446171
Publisher: Ebury Publishing
Published: 2016-06-03T16:00:00+00:00

Harry

The following spring I answer an ad in the classified section of my local newspaper inviting keen cricketers to join a local team for a Saturday afternoon league. It seems the easiest and most effective way of seeing if I would still enjoy the same camaraderie, the humour, the odd, oblique view it gives practitioners on the foibles of human life. I even purchase some new kit and a Duncan Fearnley bat to show willing.

But Saturday league cricket turns out to be a strange and menacing world. A bit like an episode of The Avengers, it may appear normal, but everyone stops speaking when you enter the pub.

For instance, all club cricketers seem to be called Dave. The bloke I have to ring up to get a game in the first place is called Dave. His best mate Dave gives me a lift to the ground on the outskirts of the town, but first we have to make a detour to pick up Dave who has the kit bag.

The other players in the team are Dave Smith, Dave Garrard, Dave Kelly, Dave Finney, Dave Brown, Dave Wyatt, Dave Clarke and Dave Davies. There’s also a bloke everyone calls Davey because he’s a bit of a wit, in that he likes dropping lighted matches down your cricket shirt and putting dog turds in your cricket boots.

Not that I’ve got anything against Daves. Some of my best friends are Daves. But Saturday cricket seems to attract a certain sort of bloke, and all of them wash up in either this team or the ones we play against. Before they can play they each seem to have to put on an array of surgical appliances and elasticated supports: knee pads, shin pads, trusses – all supplemented by a variety of aftershaves that could fell Wes Hall at a hundred yards. Their pre-match warm-up involves gathering round the open driver’s door of their cars to listen to live football commentary on the radio, or chatting up the divorcee with the enormous knockers who runs the adjoining tearooms.

To my joy and surprise I score a couple of decent twenties and even a thirty-odd, but it’s impossible to enjoy my unexpected success as each innings is played in a climate of impending fear lest I do something stupid. Dropped catches or first-ball ducks are mercilessly berated or ridiculed both during and after the match, with the result that each fixture usually ends with a beer-fuelled altercation in the pub. And I’m no aesthete, but conversations about how to fix a faulty starter motor on a Vauxhall Cavalier and whether Tina takes it up the arse have a limited appeal.

After several matches in May and June I stop returning Dave’s calls, and my gleaming kit bag is soon gathering dust in the loft. It’s odd. I thought I would enjoy the crack but be useless at the game, whereas the opposite has occurred. I’ve batted far better than I thought possible and have discovered a new poise

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.