I had a hit of cricket with Michael Jnr at the local school nets this morning. I know I’ll be sore tomorrow.
I’ve always enjoyed cricket, but never achieved much in the sport. I regret that to some extent.
If I was being immodest I’d say that I was a bully of bad bowling. A fairer assessment might be that I was a handy batsman, and if I had applied myself I might have done alright.
I used to play at home for hours each day during the school holidays when I was young. All I needed was a willing friend or neighbor and a makeshift pitch.
I only played competitively for a few seasons and enjoyed limited success, with a few half centuries at Alice Springs in 1988 as an opening batsmen being the highlights. My team won the premiership that year too.
The fact is that I had an ability to belt poor bowling. I was competent against average bowling, but struggled against genuine pace and quality spin. That’s not unusual, I suppose. Most cricketers below the top level would admit to that.
In the field I was a good catch but a poor throw. For some reason I never developed a strong throwing arm; poor technique and training probably.
I always struggled as a bowler and that makes the most interesting part of this post. I’m actually ambidextrous with bowling (playing cards and eating being my only other left-handed tasks). I started out right handed, but was no good, so shifted to left handed and was no good!
At various times I’ve discovered that rare gift called rhythm and felt that I could actually bowl. It’s a lovely feeling while it lasts.
I sensed it today in the nets. Despite not having bowled since January, I warmed up quickly and landed some nice deliveries: left arm and right arm.
Bowling right handed I worked up a decent pace and knocked over Michael’s castle, which is a fast bowler’s delight. I caught the edge of the bat twice.
Bowling left-arm top spinners I landed them on a good length and had them nearly bouncing over Dude’s head. That’s my standard left-arm delivery. I don’t get much turn but I extract a good amount of bounce when I manage to get them on a line and length.
As for young Michael (11), he’s less interested in cricket at this stage than I was. I’d say he’s a better bowler than me, but not as good at batting.
Twitter: delmerw
says:
I got lost just for a second — at the switch from cricket to bowling. When you commented that you’d knocked over Michael’s castle I was back in the game. I wasn’t sure what a castle was, but I knew it didn’t belong in bowling and assumed we were talking about a cricket position.
I can remember playing 1-on-1 baseball with my next-door neighbor (about 37 years ago). We’d pitch to each other and would fill the bases with ghost runners.
Twitter: mgorey
says:
Cricket is complicated if you haven’t been brought up knowing the game. We have an understanding of baseball in Australia, but American football is very strange to us.
Bowling is the equivalent of pitching, which you probably gathered. The "castle" is a colloquial term for the wickets, which are the target.
A bowler is trying to hit the wickets (also known as stumps) while a batsman is trying to protect them, hence a batsman should protect his "castle".
Good to hear you found your rhythm & pace while bowling to an 11 year old. Next time try a younger batsman, you might take a hat-trick.
Twitter: mgorey
says:
Well, it was a composite ball on a bouncy synthetic wicket, and I had never bowled him out before, even when he was 10 years old, so I do think it was blog-worthy.
I wasn’t quite as pumped as that bloke in the TV commercial last summer who ran in at his young son from a hundred yards.